#someone has to point out that if she hadn’t it wouldn’t have gotten past censorship

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

DPxDC media story prompt

Okay first off, this sort of thing has been done before, but here’s a different version involving Jazz Fenton.

Popular in DPxDC fanfic is that the GIW have a media blackouts—or whiteouts, there’s kind of a difference, where whiteouts work more like… there is a file, but you can’t edit it or it may be locked out for certain users, or an edited version of events where things are ‘whited out’ like with correction paste, among other definitions.

Point is!

The GIW have a media restriction, and among these is social media, probably with certain words or phrases pinging to location restrict the post. There was probably a phase for a while where the A-Listers tried to get around it, but ultimately failed, and since they could only get information IN rather than information OUT, and possibly still a limited amount of outside information in the first place, social media didn’t take off as much in Amity Park than in other places in the world. There’s still a small local presence, but at this point it’s almost like a city wide chat room than actual social media.

Enter in, Jazz Fenton. She’s chronically behind on trends, so by the time she decides to get on social media, the GIW aren’t being as militant on it. And she has that habit of calling the ghosts by code names instead of their actual names, such as Crate Creep instead of The Box Ghost, or Ghost X instead of Skulker. By pure coincidence of her personal language use and Tucker messing with all of Team Phantom’s phone locaters for easier excuse giving, Jazz manages to dodge all the word censors.

She accidentally creates a whole online story community convinced it’s some kind of altered reality game or role playing game, what have you. Meanwhile, Jazz is letting off steam by ranting online with, of course, made up names of all the people involved. She doesn’t even notice the numbers, and that’s assuming the GIW didn’t just—region lock the ability to see them for whatever reason. The few Amity Parkers on social medias see Jazz, maybe look at a complaint post or two, then move on because this isn’t even an unusual video inside Amity Park’s social media sphere.

Heck, PHANTOM has a social media presence and he’s done several rant videos too! One particularly famous one is him complaining about keeping his boots and gloves white while being chased and one of the GIW agents actually stops and gives him advice before shooting at him again.

Those outside Amity Park, of course, only see Jazz’s videos. And she has no idea that she has an entire online presence and mild amounts of online fame. And again, almost everyone thinks the whole thing is just a fun little game, if oddly detailed.

Until, that is, a certain young man by the name of Bernard comes in. One of the few who are totally convinced this is real, he tries to also convince his boyfriend—Timothy Drake-Wayne. Who, in turn, finds it incredibly suspicious that it’s this hard to get news and posts from one random town in the Midwest.

[potteresque-ire]

hello, ily metas! thank you for taking the time for them. i hope you dont mind an ask with two follow up questions to your metas i'm curious about: 1) has mxtx rly been sentenced? i have seen others also share this news but other fans have quickly dismissed and gotten pissed at these reports for being fake news that are bad for mxtx, and as fearmongering. 2) for those who want to support yizhan but not the ccp, do you have advice how to navigate fan support and interaction with their media?

Hello! I apologise for the late reply!  You’ve brought up some interesting points, so please forgive me for responding with an essay.

First, about MXTX — This is a follow-up to this post.

Unfortunately, this is all we got—all everyone has got about MXTX’s current situation: on 2020/11/10, she was sentenced in Hangzhou Shang Cheng District’s People’s Court (杭州市上城區人民法院). No details were given on her verdict, due to “人民法院認為不宜在互聯網公布的其它情形”  (“The People’s Court decided it inappropriate to announce further details on the internet”). Here’s a link with the screenshot that showed all the information released about the case that day.

There are enough copies of similar screenshots to this one online, with the differences dependent on where the publisher pulled the information from the same website: 中國裁判文書網, an online archive of verdicts run by China Supreme People’s Court. There’re few reasons, therefore, to believe the information on the screenshot was fake. The link I used was Sina’s Financial News, which I believe is trustworthy enough for China’s standard.

It is also important to note, of course, that two scenarios may still render this screenshot irrelevant. 1) The verdict, which was not mentioned in the screenshot, was “not guilty” and 2) the name listed in the case, 袁依楣, was not MXTX at all.

Few have seemed to suspect 2) to be a possibility. Her real name might have been prior knowledge among some fans, or the combination of her surname and city of residence. 1) has been the where the concern / debate is.

I included China’s rate of conviction in the original post for this reason: acquittal is exceedingly rare (<0.1%) for the arrested in China. This short article discussed some reasons.

So, is it possible that MXTX is now a free woman? Yes. Is it likely? Not at all.

Still, since the probability that MXTX is imprisoned isn’t 100%, is spreading this news smearing her name? Fear-mongering?

I can only answer for myself, Anon, but my answer is no for both questions, which is why I’ve felt comfortable posting about her case. MXTX’s alleged “crimes” are things we already knew she did, or common practices among Chinese IP writers. We know she penned MDZS and other BL works; we know MDZS, in particular, has an 18+ element. She was said to have sold merch based on her works, but that wasn’t unusual at all for writers in Jinjiang, where she published her writing. Even those who don’t like her have seemed to agree that it was her writing that got her into trouble, not some other crimes she could’ve committed.

IMO, a guilty verdict doesn’t tell us as much about her as it does about the judicial system, the business practices of her country. It’s worth re-mentioning that media giants such as Tencent are closely tied to the government; Tencent’s WeChat, for example, is part of China’s Great Firewall and is used for surveillance, for censorship and removal of political dissidents. What MXTX’s case hints at is this: the government has (very likely) convicted her, while its close allies are continuing to use her works—works that got her into legal trouble in the first place—to make money. Some fans of MXTX have questioned if the courts have censored the details of the case to save the embarrassment of the rich and powerful, calling what has happened to MXTX 人血饅頭 (“human blood steamed buns”), an idiom used to describe the act of profiting out of someone elses’ life.

As for fear-mongering, here are my thoughts ~ it would’ve been fear-mongering if the public has access to the facts, and not years after they happen. Specifically, it would’ve been fear-mongering to leak the rumours of MXTX’s sentencing, when the judicial system is transparent and the case details will soon be published for all to see. Why? Because “fear” comes from the unknown, and “-monger” is the unnecessary promotion, stirring-up of this fear.

To promote, stir up anything, one needs a reference level. The reference level in this scenario is this: what is the level of fear if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? Of course, this knowledge doesn’t make MXTX’s experience any easier or more just; it doesn’t cause her less fear. However, she isn’t the target audience of this likely-to-be-true rumour. The target audience is the public and in particular, those who consume and/or generate BL material online.

What is the level of fear among this population if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? It’s the (relative) comfort in knowing the government’s stance on what they do: how the administration feels about BL, 18+ BL, and their distribution methods. The comfort comes from having the right information to decide how to act accordingly. For example, if I’m a BL writer based in China and I know the court has found MXTX guilty of bypassing publishing houses but not of writing M/M romance, then I’ll know to not produce paper versions of my writing, but I can keep writing.

This reference level of fear is unavailable here, however, since the government has decided to withhold all details about the case. Without this reference level, fear-mongering becomes a ... difficult to define concept.

Are these likely-to-be-true rumours agents of fear, or are they hints on how to survive in a country that lacks transparency?

Continuing with the example of I being a Chinese BL writer, since I cannot expect to hear more facts about MXTX, this rumour is all I’ve got in choosing what to do with my hobby, in deciding whether it is safe to continue. As I’m aware that a rumour isn’t a fact, I first research on the rumour’s likelihood of truth (similar to what I’ve done for MXTX’s case), and cross my fingers that I don’t get it wrong.

By doing so, I’m turning these rumours into my survival guide.

Is it risky? Yes. Is it exhausting? Absolutely. But this is the way of life for people who live under secretive, authoritarian governments—the authoritarian element making it impossible to demand more facts. It may take people outside such regimes some time to get used to—to the lifestyle, and to the idea that, in a place where news is often synonymous with propaganda, rumours are breadcrumbs of truth that should be sieved through with equal care as one would sieve through the news. Heeding, considering the probable truth of what the authority has deemed to be fear-mongering rumours can be a matter of literal life and death. 

Take...COVID. (I apologize for bringing up this unpleasant topic!)

I shall link to an article about the early spread of COVID in Wuhan here and ask: were Dr. Li Wenliang and the seven other doctors fear-mongering? Wuhanese chose to believe in the government, but at what cost to them? What would the world be like today if they took the early COVID rumours as true and masked up like Hong Kongers—Hong Kongers who weren’t any smarter or better, but had simply learned their painful lessons from the 2003 SARS epidemic? 

(Why hadn’t the Wuhanese learned? Because the government has long changed the narrative of SARS, taught their people that the illness originated in Hong Kong.) 

(How can one learn from past mistakes if one pretends those mistakes never existed?)

You must be wondering, Anon, why I’m talking about COVID when your next question is about YiZhan. The death of Dr Li Wenliang on February 7th, 2020, sparked a demand for freedom of speech rarely seen in internet-age China. Its fury, its ferocity forced the government to change its stance on Dr Li, again an unusual move. Since January 2020, Weibo had been censoring COVID news and opinion pieces that shedded a negative light to the central government; after the death of Dr Li, the censorship apparatus stepped up, making way for the propaganda machine to kick in later and change the narrative of the pandemic.

Here are some questions without definite answers, but may be food for thought for YiZhan fans:

1) While the Chinese government’s censorship apparatus (including Weibo) might have silenced the voices of dissent, of mourning on the surface, was it more likely to pacify, or fuel the anger of netizens, many of whom had lost loved ones, many of whom were still under quarantine?

2) Less than three weeks after the death of Dr Li, a group of fans demanded even *more* censorship from the government—the closing of an internet website that had been seen as a relatively free space to express oneself. How would these netizens react, even though they knew little about these fans or their idol?  

(It was, in the context of the massive silencing of COVID discussions in China, that I learned about the ban of AO3. There had been rumours that the government would censor more websites on 2020/03/01. When I read about AO3′s ban on 2/27, my thoughts were 1) Hmm. This came two days early. 2) AO3? Really?)

(I wouldn’t watch The Untamed or know who Gg was until several months later.)

Now, Anon, this is a good time to get to your CCP (Chinese Communist Party) question.

The very short answer is no. There’s no way to support YiZhan without, to a certain level, supporting the CCP. As mentioned above, the media companies are all part of China’s surveillance system. Weibo is where freedom of speech is curbed. Our two boys have been part of the propaganda machine; the BBC article linked above had a tiny picture of Gg on it, as he was a performer in the Hero in Harm’s Way (最美逆行者), a “real-life based” drama on COVID. DD just did a show glorying the Chinese police force (and here’s a video of the same force welding doors to lock in COVID-stricken residents).

Nonetheless, here’s my first advice: please do not beat yourself up for supporting YiZhan!

Gg and Dd are people who live within the system, inside the Great Firewall. They understand the world the way their government has taught them to—not only in school, but also in the news and media. Like most youths in every country, they’re patriotic—and to expect them to be otherwise, especially because of information they don’t have, is both unrealistic and unfair. Even if they do know about certain things impermissible within the Firewall, in China (as in many Communists countries), openly expressing / performing one’s proper political leanings (ie. loyalty towards CCP) is among the most important pre-requisites for any job. This has been especially true for c-ent in recent years .

They, like most of their countrymen, are doing what they have to do.

In this case, it comes to us, our decisions on how to interact with their works. How should we deal with them, their propaganda elements?

The answer, of course, varies from person to person. Personally, I’ve chosen the approaches of “immunisation” and “restriction”. By “immunisation”, I mean learning about as much historical and sociopolitical facts from non-CCP sponsored sources; this is understandably difficult for someone who doesn’t already have some familiarity with the culture and politics of the region, and/or cannot read the language. 

Restriction means limiting my consumption of media produced by China. I avoid shows (dramas, documentaries, variety etc) featuring topics that are likely to contain heavy propaganda, such as the military, the police, Hong Kong/Macao/Taiwan, and of course, anything pertaining to the CCP, from its rise to its governance of the country.

In general, I’m wary of all information presented about the post-monarchy years (post 1911), even though CCP wouldn’t begin its reign until after WWII (1949). Why so early? 1) Because CCP was formed in 1921 and so its glorification requires a change of narrative since then; 2) because the Nationalist Party (Kuomintang, KMT), which governed China between 1912 and 1949 (the so-called Republican Era 民國), would end up exiling to and setting up a new government in Taiwan.

How much propaganda should one expect in shows depicting the country post-1911? The current TV and webdrama directives (previously discussed in this post) offer some hints. Here are my translations of the relevant items:

D7) Dramas about the Republican era: Glorification of the Republican Era, the Beiyang Government, and Warlord Era requires strict control.

D10) Crime drama: crime drama is the focus of content auditing. The Ministry of Public Security (Pie note: in charge of law enforcement, ie, police) will be involved in the audit. The process of crime solving cannot be exposed; criminal psychology and motivations can however be depicted in detail. Undercover police cannot use drugs or kill, or damage the image of the police force. Criminals must be punished by law.

D12) Dramas featuring realistic topics: realistic topics must adhere to the correct world view, philosophy of life and moral values. They cannot place too strong an emphasis on social conflicts, must showcase the beautiful lives of the commoners. Regular folks should display larger-than-life sentiments and aspirations; they can pursue wealth, but must use proper means to do so; they cannot damage the public image of specific employment types, groups and social organisations. Do not preach negative or decadent world view, philosophy of life and moral values. Do not exaggerate, amplify social issues; do not over showcase, display the darker sides of society; do not preach affluence, avoid things that have no basis in real life.

D16) Dramas featuring the Revolution (Pie note: CCP’s coming to power): 2019 is the publicity period of the 70th Anniversary of the People’s Republic of China. Although the “Three Importances” (important revolution, important people, important events) are still encouraged, the  National Radio and Television Administration requires all departments, at all levels, to strengthen the control of content and the overall management of the industry, and focus on the auditing of content pertaining to the Sino-Japanese war and espionage dramas.

These directives (as those translated in the other post) are as vague as they are restrictive, and to err on the side of caution, production companies tend to “overachieve” to avoid going against headwinds at the censorship board. This means their products have a tendency to malign the Republican Era (D7). It means they will likely twist history in trying to depict the CCP as faultless heroes (D16). It means they'll probably present a utopian-like society and call it reality-based (D12), a society in which the good guys share the same values as the CCP and always win (D10).

Yes, my “restriction” means I skipped Hero in Harm’s Way. It means I’ve never listened to Gg’s version of 我和我的祖國 despite my absolute adoration of his voice. It means I just missed Dd’s performance in the law enforcement celebration event. It means I don’t plan on watching Being A Hero and Ace Troops.

So here’s where I’ve drawn the line, Anon, but it doesn’t mean that’s what anyone should do. Only you alone can decide where your own comfort zone is. I write these metas in the hopes that it can offer a … gateway for those who’d like to understand, with a more telescopic lens, Gg and Dd’s country—a country that holds a particularly strong hold over its citizens’ fate including, yes, their romantic fate. It’s not my wish to impose my opinions on anyone.

If I have other hopes… It’s this. Please, as long as it’s safe for you to talk, do not self-censor—especially about facts, especially on sites like Tumblr or Twitter that have long been banned by the Chinese government. I don’t mean one should go about and confront those who insist on a different version of reality. To undo opinions rooted in years of education, IMO, the process has to be voluntary, and the information is already at the fingertips of those who’re surfing these sites and wish to learn more. More importantly, open discussions of these topics may be risky for those who still have close ties to China, and keeping them safe should always be the top priority. 

What I mean is simply this ~ please do not feel obliged to agree with every perspective presented in YiZhan’s work just because you support the leads. Please do not feel you must remain silent about the CCP—its good, bad and ugly—just because your favourite stars happen to come from the country it’s ruling. And please remember: “Chinese”, as a term, has always included people who live outside CCP’s control, many of whom still fully embrace the culture, traditions and values of Historical China, a 5000-years long string of dynasties with shifting borders, ethnic makeup and customs. The Untamed is a mainland Chinese production, yes, but its genre, its manner of presenting certain traditions, wouldn’t have been developed, or flourished, without the diaspora. The CCP has only been the ruling party of one country, the People’s Republic of China, for 71 years, and as a party with foreign (soviet) roots and a record of destroying the pillar of the country’s tradition, Confucianism, it doesn’t own a monopolistic say on how every Chinese should think and act—no matter how much it insists it does—or how everyone should think and speak about China and its people.

It isn’t qualified.

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Once Upon a December

Chapter 1: A Song Someone Sings

A/N: I can’t believe that there are people that are actually interested in this... I hope it’s not a complete hot garbage. I had to change some aspects to fit all characters and their personalities but I hope you guys like it!

Prologue // chapter 2

---

“Are you fucking shitting me?”

The slap came only a few seconds later, stinging her left cheek and undoubtedly leaving a reddish mark. Shit shit shit.

Clarisse’s rule number one: no fucking swearing, especially at her.

It was one of the rules that mostly got Lin in trouble, causing the orphanage’s master to leave a series of bruises throughout her body during the ten years she lived in that hellhole. Minor swearings usually earned her slaps or pinches, and if she continued to say them afterwards, Lin would probably receive a full beating. It was absolutely miserable.

Until the year before, however, she wouldn’t be receiving those slaps alone. Until a year before, if Lin was swearing from the top of her lungs, Lysandra was definitely there with her, saying things just as filthy. Sometimes they would get caught, but sometimes not even Clarisse could find them when they sneaked off the orphanage to steal alcohol from the market and then went to a rooftop to drink their asses off. 

Lysandra. Remembering her name, her existence was the only thing stopping Lin from finally lashing out against the orphanage’s master. She needed help and information that only Clarisse or Arobynn would possess, and she was smart enough to know that Clarisse would always be the better alternative.

Even if being pleasant to the woman who made her life hell for ten years made her blood boil.

“Pardon me, Clarisse. I wasn’t swearing at you, it’s just that you caught me by surprise.” It was an understatement. What Clarisse had said completely shattered her plans and hopes. Her throat tightened and her vision started to unfocus. Shit shit shit. “Could you repeat it? Please.”

“I could not care less why you did so.” She spat out, and one of the kids that was coming down the stairs took one glance at the two women standing by the door, at Clarisse’s tone and wisely went back up. “You are finally eighteen, you are not the orphanage’s problem anymore. Just as Lysandra has not been our problem for almost a year now. I will repeat what I have already said: Lysandra was taken to Inish a year ago, and as we do not keep tabs on the adopted children, we do not know if she is still there.”

Lin had to hold her snort and sarcastic remark. Adopted. Clarisse said adopted as if Lysandra had found a beautiful family to sit by the fire during Yulemas and drink hot cocoa, but both women knew for a fact that what had happened to Lysandra had been more of a buying than an adoption. Her blood only boiled hotter, her hand itching to hit the woman across the face.

“And what I said about the railroads and regular roads is true. Adarlan has cut off relations with Fenharrow and Melisande as a political strategy or something like that, I honestly do not care. They will most likely be opened again in a few weeks or months, but currently you are incapable of traveling straight from Rifthold to Inish. Crossing the border on your own is suicide and you will get caught, girl, so do not do anything stupid.” As Clarisse pronounced the last words, she opened the door and the fresh summer air swept in, causing Lin’s golden braid to whip around a bit. “This is my last warning and piece of advice. Now leave, you are not a child here anymore, Lin Sirota.”

Lin clenched her jaw, grabbing her little sack of belongings and walking right out of the door. She raised her chin as she passed Clarisse, and kept it raised as she crossed the orphanage’s iron gates, and kept it raised as she did not look back at the place that had treated her like shit for the entirety of her teenage years. But even as she felt the relief of finally leaving that place, of not being chained to Clarisse and Arobynn anymore, she could not help but feel the weight of her new life crushing her.

She was homeless. Poor, having only the money that should supposedly be used to buy one ticket to Inish. She had no connections, no family and nowhere to go.

-------------------------------

She went to the docks that same day. She went to the taverns in which she knew the riders would be. She went to the railroad offices. All answers had been the same: we do not want to risk Adarlan’s wrath by crossing the border to Fenharrow or Melisande, even for the money you are offering or because of your pretty face. In all three places, she put an extra effort into masquerading her accent. It was widely known that immigrants were not welcomed in Adarlan, especially in its capital. In all three places she put on smiles and adjusted her braids, hoping to look just like an innocent girl who needed a ride. Nothing worked.

Lin was tempted to start crying when she sat down in a bench just outside the railroad office. She used to do that a lot once she arrived in the orphanage. Lin had been eight, and terrified of her own shadow. She had cried when she realized that she could not remember anything from her past, all memories just a thick black canvas in her mind. She only knew she was from Terrasen due to her extremely heavy accent, which also pointed to the fact that she must have grown up in the northern part of the kingdom. It wasn’t unusual for kids of Terrasen to end up in orphanages after the kingdom was seized during a winter night. The memory loss, however, had been a rarity. The only moments that Lin got close to remembering anything was during her nightmares, but once she woke up all the information that the bad dreams contained just turned into ash. It was like being trapped into an iron box inside your own mind. Sometimes Lin would curse the new Terrasen’s conqueror, as if the new queen herself had put her in that coffin. Lin did not even know her real name, had just been given a commoners name and that had been that.

She could feel the thick tears swelling in her eyes, but she refused to let them drop. She hadn’t cried in a long while, and it would not help her right then. She needed to think and be smart. She needed a new plan, a new route and a way to get to Lysandra and save her the same way her friend had saved Lin ten years ago when she was drowning in fear and despair.

That had been two weeks ago.

Lin was now seated at the rooftop of a shabby old house by the central square in Orynth, taking a swig of cheap vodka. She had decided that since she could not go straight from Adarlan to Melisande, she would need to take the long way. Terrasen’s relations with Adarlan were stable enough that the borders hadn’t been closed, so instead of buying a ticket to Inish, she bough one to Orynth. The city had a series of extensive railroads, a particular one that would take you through the Wastes on the west side of the continent and then straight into Melisande. That’s the train she would need to catch once she gathered the absurd amount of money she would need to buy the ticket and food for the next weeks unless she wanted to starve.

She had gotten two copper coins today and a bottle of Terrasenian vodka, all stolen. She had to admit, it was a new low point even for her.

She watched the people come and go, all of them wearing clothes as shabby as the house she was on top of. Orynth, the City of Learning, had once been booming with life, a beacon to all of those who wished a better life. Its people lived in peace and harmony, and even the slums were better than some Adarlanian cities. Once the kingdom was conquered, however, everything had changed. The new queen had raised taxes so much that even most of the city’s elite became poor, and most of the population had to give up everything they had to not suffer under the queen’s wrath. Access to libraries and theaters was limited only for the new nobility and officials, very few merchants also allowed. There were curfews and censorship, laws prohibiting people from even speaking the name of the old rulers. A city that was once beautiful was now a ghost town, much like the rest of the kingdom.

Not that Lin would be able to know the difference between now and then. She did not remember ever being here, but she had read in books. Part of her wanted to wander around, maybe try to awake old memories in case she did indeed come from Orynth, but she decided against it. It must be an unimaginable pain to remember a beautiful past just to realize it had been ripped away from you.

A silver flash caught her eye. She looked up at one of the cathedral towers at the other side of the central square, narrowing her eyes at one of the windows where she had seen the movement. It was a darker shade of silver, so it couldn’t have been lightning or even a trick of light. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt an incessant pulse. She stared at the window for a few more minutes before shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. She was going insane. Running low on food and sleep and then getting drunk, she was probably on the edge of actual insanity and now her mind was playing tricks at her. Sighing, Lin slowly eased from the rooftop and into the colorless streets. She would need a place to stay tonight, especially if the summer rains in Orynth were as strong as people said they were.

Lin wandered around a bit, her eyes always involuntarily going back to the cathedral. She mindlessly walked all the way to the old castle. It seemed like it was once beautiful, all built from marble and quartz, the towers so high that it seemed that you could touch the clouds from there. But once the new queen decided to build her new castle with the money she tore from the people, this castle had been left alone, vacant. It looked more like a mausoleum than anything.

It could have been a crypt if not for the whimpers she heard coming from one of the sealed doors. Against her best judgment, Lin walked closer and closer to the castle, the pulse in the back of her head as strong as it had been when she looked at the cathedral. She should go back, find some alley to spend the night. She was currently drunk, alone and unarmed. She was a fucking walking target and she should know better. Maybe the whimpers weren’t even true, just another sign of her madness just like the silver flash.

Sighing, she stopped in front of the wood panel covering one of the doors. From up close, it looked more like a window that had probably been shattered and then covered with wood.

Lin was about to go back, snorting at herself when the wood panel moved and another whimper sounded. Maybe she was just imagining things again.

Although you are probably a godsdamned idiot, you are not that crazy yet.

Setting the bottle down, she approached the panel until she could glance around it. It was thicker than she imagined, and when she bent down to try to look inside the castle, something moved, brushing her fingers. Lin yelped and fell right on her ass, staring wide eyed at the dirty golden tail waggling. Only the tail was on the outside, as if the animal had been entering the castle the moment the wood panel closed again. She looked around, realizing that there were new screws and a hammer on the floor. Someone had purposefully let the little animal stuck. Had personally closed the wood panel again. Her blood was boiling and she was half tempted to hunt that person down and pin them to a wall with those same screws.

Instead, she grabbed the hammer and carefully opened the wood panel. Lin hoped there weren’t any screws directly into the animal’s— most likely a dog— tail. After what seemed an eternity, the lower part of the panel gave away and the dog sprinted forward, going deeper into the castle.

“Fuck. Wait! Hey puppy, come here. Let me check your tail to see if you’re hurt.” She called after the pup, grabbing the vodka bottle from the floor and half entering the castle in all fours. “Hey, come here!”

She groaned and entered a little bit more.

You are broke, drunk, most likely crazy and in the other side of the continent from your destination. What’s a little breaking and entering into an abandoned castle?

Grunting, Lin fully crawled into the castle.

If it looked like a mausoleum from the outside, it was worse on the inside. It wasn’t only the appearance, but the feeling. Everyone knew what had happened ten years ago, and it seemed as if death and despair decided to make this their home. Lin took a step forward, her boots sounding way too loud in the empty entrance. Tables had been turned, vases had been broken and sofas had been ripped apart. Trash littered the floors, and the only source of light was whatever could enter through the holes in the wood panels covering the windows and doors. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes and, despite the terrible condition of the castle, something eased in her chest.

Lin’s eyes snapped open when she heard the dog’s steps from another room in the palace. She started jogging after it, whistling in the hope that the dog would come in her direction. It led her up and down stairs, through corridors. The palace was a maze, and she navigated it as if she knew the way like she knew the palm of her hand.

She finally caught up with the dog when they entered a ballroom. The destruction in this room had been worse than in any other, and even as Lin bent down to pick up the puppy, her eyes could not leave the dance floor, the destroyed thrones, the blood stains in the walls and floor. No one had bothered to clean up, it seemed.

The pulse in the back of her mind became almost unbearable for a few seconds, until it was transformed into a lullaby that she knew in her heart she had heard before, even if she could not recall where. Her eyes became blurry, colors that were not there a minute ago appearing. It was like watching from inside a glass box splashed with oil paint. The colors were vivid, moving around in the rhythm of the lullaby that was so loud in her mind now that there could have been an orchestra by her side. The oil paint figures were dancing, she realized with awe. They were misty figures sweeping around a destroyed ballroom floor according to a song long forgotten by her.

It was like a real party, one that had happened so long ago that blurry memories were everything she could invoke when thinking of it, but the feeling of being home, the beating of her heart along with the music were reborn that moment.

She took a step forward, as if in a daze. As if she could go to the dance floor and sweep around with her eyes closed to the destruction and her mind providing the music. As if she could join those fake memories, go to a better place where she did not know pain of hunger or despair.

She might have done just that, if she hadn’t caught the movement of three figures from the left side of her eye. Immediately the colors disappeared, the lullaby becoming an incessant pulse once more. Her heart rate picked up, and she held the dog closer to her.

Lin turned to the three figures, all of them unbelievably tall, muscular and with their faces hidden by cloaks and shadows. She took a fighting stance, her eyes narrowing and cocking her head. She could swear one of them smiled.

“So what do we have here?” A male voice straight from Hellas’s realm spoke.

From behind her.

There are more.

Fucking stupid.

Shit shit shit.

I’m going to die.

It was all Lin could think as she hardened her grip on the cheap vodka bottle and swinged back, hitting the male behind her straight across the face. He and his companions-- the three she had first seen and other two flanking his side-- were shocked enough by her reaction that they froze. 

Although her stupidity was obviously arguable, she certainly did not have a death wish, so instead of fighting her way out, Lin took their seconds of hesitation and used to her advantage.

She ran as if Hellas was trying to fucking murder her.

It took only seconds for them to recompose themselves before they started running after her. Lin tightened her grip on the dog who was thankfully quiet and obedient. If she got to the wood panel she came from, she could crawl out and they would still be inside. They were too big to follow her through that hole, even though she had the feeling that they could easily knock the wood panel down if they wished.

Please, Lin pleaded to Mala for the first time since she could remember, give me protection. Please, please, please.

The last please sounded inside her mind when she felt a hand around her elbow. She was instantly against a man’s chest, and then before she could blink she felt the cold floor against her back. All the air whooshed out of her, her grip on the bottle and dog faltering. The little pup got up and started growling in the direction of the five men now watching Lin, the one that had stopped her still behind her. 

They were going to kill her, and then probably the dog.

At least she could take some comfort in knowing that it couldn’t get worse.

But then a deep male voice chuckled from the shadows behind her.

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