#that's either because a) I didn't know the word or b) the interpretation got lost in translation

[aihoshiino]

Hello everyone! With the absolutely incredible audio drama adaptation of Viewpoint B dropping earlier this week, I was able to revisit my initial translation of Viewpoint B and make various tweaks and improvements – my hearing comprehension is uh a lot better than my reading comprehension so the audio drama was incredibly useful in clearing some things up for me.

My next goal will be to complete my own translation of 45510 to go alongside Viewpoint B and I am also interested in translating some of the Bluray and artbook materials if anyone is able to provide them. If you have anything official you think would be cool to see translated, feel free to drop it into my DMs!

TL NOTES:

1) As mentioned previously but is worth reiterating here: in the process of adapting Viewpoint B into English, there are places here and there where I lightly reordered or combined certain sentences in to flow a little better in English. For example, there's times where a character's monologue will be interrupted by some single sentence aside in the narration that makes things read a little stuttery and occasionally confusing as to which character was speaking. The content should still be largely the same, I just wanted to make sure nobody got lost in the more dialogue heavy exchanges (as I almost did!)

2) Various tweaks to spelling, phrasing and word choice were made. Nothing is massively different but with the audio drama to reference, I had a better idea of dialogue tone and mood and made some changes to my phrasing to better match Takahashi's interpretation of the text.

3) Ai's age is referenced twice in this story, once as fourteen and once as fifteen. I initially assumed this was a typo either in the original text or transcription of the pamphlet as the relatively short timeframe the story takes place in makes it unlikely she would've had a birthday without comment. However, Takahashi can clearly be heard saying both 14才 (juuyonsai) and 15才 (juugosai) in the audio drama so I have no idea what to believe anymore!!! As such, I kept my initial translation of 'fourteen' when her age is first mentioned and changed the second occurrence to the more neutral 'teenage girl' because I genuinely don't know what the intention is here. Unless the birthday celebration that gets mentioned in the story is Ai's?? Is Ai's birthday that close to Christmas???? I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE

4) There are a few sentences and lines of dialogue that were a little ambiguous in terms of subject and who was speaking. Two of these lines I accidentally mistranslated or misattributed (Kanan's first speaking line, a mention of management dictating B-Komachi's romance-first focus) have now been fixed.

5) A line in Part 3 was accidentally erased during a previous editing pass and I didn't catch it while proofreading. Whoops! It's not a major line but obviously it should be in there, so it's been restored.

[brsb4hls]

I think one of the main issues with not only s2 but some of s1 as well as that only neil was involved with the creation of both of them because terry unfortunately passed away. It lost something vital in that moment. In s1, they still had the book and I think s1 did a good job as far as adaptations go with some grievances, but now in s2, it's whatever neil is going to do and with how active he is on tumblr and how the fans are and how he's reacting to them, it's losing the spirit of the original even further. Not BECAUSE the ship is canon, but everything else surrounding the ship and how we got there and how the writers and the actors are changing the characters more as they progress from one season to the next. I watched s2 feeling giddy for more good omens and very quickly that giddiness turned sort of confused and disappointed. I didn't want disjointed filler fanfic with a loose plot. It didn't fit. It didn't feel right. Overall, I didn't hate the season, but I didn't quite like it either. The handful of you good omens critical blogs have summed it up very well for me and I'm surprised it's not a more popular opinion. I've just seen a couple people talking about how book fans are complaining which is the most dismissive way to put it. I'm not sure if people are blinded by their theories and canon ship or they just don't care that this season felt almost fanmade, but I'm sad that the book and tv show versions are now miles apart rather than cousins.

That's a long ask, thank you for sharing!

I actually did like season 1, too. The book is very hard to transfer to tv imo and choices had to be made.

Technically, Adam is the main character, but putting more focus on him would either mean a) a kid show with a lot of stuff about the them or b) more Anathema and conspiracy theories discussion.

That probs wouldn't have worked that well, so Gaiman made the two most colourfull characters the protagonists and in order to flesh them out added to their relationship.

Other stuff was added for comedic reasons or drama. Which I get.

So season one was a fair interpretation with necessary (to appeal to a mainstream audience) changes.

And both actors were doing an amazing job, so that helps.

Another plus is that a lot of new fans had so much fun with the material and created a ton of art/fics and revived the fandom.

And then it went off the rails somehow.

The thing is, Good Omens isn't a drama. A lot of dramatic events happen, but they feel understated, it's mainly weird, quirky and funny.

It also isn't a love story. In the romantic sense.

There is a lot of love in the book.

And I truely do not know what exactly happened, that turned such a unique little thing into the most bland, generic romance.

Probably capitalism.

I mean, just watching Crowley and Aziraphale trying to weather everyday life without having their jobs anymore would have been hilarious, but probs to niche.

And I would love to know what made Gaiman change his tune in regards to the nature of their relationship.

He does not really answer stuff, though, he's good at circumventing.

I hope at least it wasn't tumblr that influenced him. In most cases a creative process suffers from too much social media interaction. (Season 3 could get even worse).

The fandom dynamics regarding criticsm are always complicated.

I do speculate that most hyper positive fans are fairly new, just in it for the ship and going with the flow.

Also critcism is kinda a four letter word these days.

Sadly.

I mean it can be fun and relieving to went or pick apart or even ridicule and as long as it's tagged correctly nobody gets hurt by it.

Maybe 'Good Omens' also is a sore subject, because after years of being vague, Crowley/Aziraphale actually got canonized, and no matter what they represent as, they do look like a gay couple to the general audience, and people might be afraid criticsm might reflect badly on the representation they finally got.

Who knows.

In the end, one can always cherry pick. I do like some scenes, I do ship Crowley/Aziraphale, but I'm disappointed that their characters went full on angel/demon cliche contrary to the appealing, nuanced book versions.

And yeah, there is no actual plot so we might as well have gotten smth like Crowley tries to earn money by becoming an uber driver or smth (there's great fanfic about that).

But that's just me, I do get why people enjoy it. Criticsm just helps to deal a bit with the disappointment, because, like you, I was initially thrilled about the second season.

[hhuta]

(3D lbqfm anon) y'know after reading ur post on it i realized i a) subconsciously noticed the de-gaying and that's probably why i didn't like it and b) somehow didn't notice ANY changes despite the fact that I watched the two versions less than a week apart,,, i thought it was just the new cravat (tho i still don't like it. the old one was better) | also,,,, is it too much trouble to ask why u don't like the 3D assassymphonie? guessing smtg to do w the women | also ur opinion on 3D vaec?

where do i start with miss l'assasymphonie.. btw u can watch the video of the two versions side by side here. and my rant got wayyy too long so ill talk about VAEC in another post ldkjasl

tw: self harm/suicide mention just to be safe

im going to start with minor differences that make me prefer the 2010 version but not hate the 2011 one

first of all his dramatic soft gay sappy ass touching his heart when talking about mozarts music i like that a lot :(

then when he sings "killing out of spite everything i create" he metaphorically stabs himself in 2010 but not in 2011

and i love the first version because its a nice and subtle parallel between how mozarts music makes him feel like (lbqfm) vs how his own music affects him (l'assasymphonie) as i pointed out here before. this is on different levels !! the fact that in lbqfm its his inner gay demon stabbing him, representing mozart(s music) and in l'assasymphonie he stabs himself..... bc he is killing what he creates and what he creates is part of himself... so this isnt about him wanting to kill mozart its about him being self destructive... this is crazy this is just one gesture and i can go on and on about it and honestly my rant will only get more insane.

later he grabs the knife at different moments and in different ways and i think the 2010 version is more dramatic and impactful. the editing helps too, it really made me jump, its all done at the right time. but honestly both are valid to me; i feel like in 2010 hes more angry and impulsive, like its the very first time he thinks about doing something like this, whereas in 2011 he feels sad and defeated, like hes going back to a place he fought very hard to get out of and because of this one guy hes back there, but in the end he recognises its his own fault

another minor difference that i think is worth mentioning, and honestly i like both versions, is what he does at the "senseless (or crazy) symphony" part. in 2010 he almost covers his ears cuz obviously it goes along with the lyrics in a literal sense. meanwhile in 2011 its more of a symbolic interpretation? idk how to word it but 2010 feels like hes just talking about his music and the thoughts inside his head making no sense, but in 2011 when he looks at his writs, his veins, its like he is talking about himself as a whole; a being without any meaning, who is losing his mind, and i like that too

and this difference goes on when he talks about the "disconcerting concert"; 2010 feels like hes literally listening to it around him, his performance in 2010 is overall more dramatic lkjslkd, meanwhile theres none of that in 2011, hes too melancholic to be jumping around

here when hes talking about his talent (or rather lack of) u can see how hes more angry in 2010 and sad in 2011 (honestly this corroborates my theory that at the beginning florent played salieri as a legit evil villain but as it went on he added more depth)

anyways so far both versions are good to me now........ the fucking dancers............... i move away from the mic to breathe in.jpg

theres just. so fucking much going on in 2011. there are a shit ton of people moving around, the flashing lights, the constant zoom in and out, the curtains moving the background, im gonna have a stroke????? l'assasymphonie is such a heavy song, emotionally, and florents performance is amazing on its on theres no fucking need to add 100 more elements!??!? it totally takes away ur focus from salieri ....

my biggest problem is with the dancers as u guessed it cuz honestly idk why they are there, i dont understand the need. i get that they are his inner demons, but not the sexy ones, so they are there to represent his inner turmoil and add a chaos element to the performance and a parallel to lbqfm with the whole hands on salieri part, but its way to obvious that it becomes repetitive! inner demons dancing around a character happens way too much on mor; bim bam boum in a way, j'accuse mon pere, la mascarade, comedie-tragedie, si je defaille, lbqfm and now again?!!?!?!?! bitihc dlajsdlkas

and the worst fucking part to me is when salieri goes to kill the female dancer

.....why whY... WHY.. why make the song literal like this!!! this is not what its about??!?! i know she isnt supposed to be A Person, this isnt him being A Murderer, she is him in a way but ?? we already saw him almost killing himself??!!? why repeat that, this is just so unnecessary and it doesnt sit right with me why make him stab a woman!! it makes my blood boil. it takes away all the drama from the other scene, of him with the knife on his wrist, because it is essentially the same!

now lets discuss why i prefer the lost half naked blindfolded men. is it because its gay? yes. is it because of the kinky element? yes. u see how that creates a parallel to lbqfm but in a subtle way? yes thank you.

to elaborate i feel like the 2010 dancers represent his psyche at the moment soooo much better. its not just simply his inner demons haunting him again, making it repetitive.

his is how i interpret it and how it relates to salieri:

the blindfold: god it can mean so much... above all i think its his envy and anger blinding him, making him feel lost and afraid. but it can also represent how salieri is a stern man, he only sees things one way and is blinded to other possibilities, other ways of living. because he is so narrow minded, so used to just following the status quo, he doesnt understand mozart and how his carefree way of life is working for him. he doesnt understand his conflicted feelings towards mozart. he doesnt understand how mozarts music can be so unconventional and yet beautiful, etc etc. his world was shattered and he feels lost because of this one little guy

but honestly i think the intention was to give a shoutout to amadeus lmao which is still cool. they do mention in MOR that mozart can play blindfolded so u can view as a parallel to that too

the lack of clothes: around mozart salieri feels naked but not in a sexy and fun way, in vulnerable and seen for the first time way. imagine how strongly he considered changing his name and moving countries after the whole eh bien, maestro? trop de notes? ordeal..... he was caught off guard in that situation so he let the truth out way too much, but he knows he cant fake it around mozart any other time either

their behaviour: they look afraid, lost, in pain and are constantly falling, getting up, then falling again and being pushed up against the wall by something invisible (to me its mozarts music/influence) and honestly i dont have to say anything else ! its all there !!! it represents salieris emotions perfectly !!!!!

in summary, to me the 2010 dancers dont have a lot to do with the lyrics of the song and i think thats good. they are there to add a new element to it, to let us see inside salieris head, while salieri himself is performing what the lyrics are about. so on the other hand i think the 2011 dancers are repetitive and unnecessary, not adding anything new to the performance

[scripttorture]

Hi, lovely to send an ask to your blog. I have a character who's been kidnapped and kept in a cell for an unspecified amount of time. The cell is the size of a spacious room, with a mattress, sink, and toilet, the victim has access to move about as he pleases. The abductor kept my victim well fed, didn't physically harm him unless he had to (ie. Victim tries to escape, attack, bite back with words), he wanted him in good shape. (A)

(B)Whenever my victim acted up, other than sometimes having tophysically restrain him (roughs him up in a corner and leaves), hepunishes him by turning the electricity off, leaving the victim inpitch darkness and icy weather, and with no sound source but his ownbreath. Regularly, the abductor comes at least once everyday (or asoften as five days a week), sits with the victim for a few hours, andeither talks about his life, tries (and fails, at the time) to softenvictim's heart...(E),...left him food and left. Either until he got bored, or when victimcracked and broke down begging for any stimulation and company. Themental breakdowns increased in intensity when the victim lost accessto the TV, he'd unconsciously hurt himself, cry and scream until hepassed out, refuse to eat or move from his spot in fear of themonsters lurking in the pitch blackness in the room, and will justsit stuck listening to his violent hallucinations until the abductorput mercy on him.(F)At the end of the abduction time, Victim starts to show new symptoms,he rather becomes"animalistic" in someway, he loses(forgets temporarily) the ability to put words together, so hesnarls, whimpers, acts physically his needs, becomes very aggressiveand uncooperative, lost a drastic amount of weight, refusing food,tried on multiple occasions to hurt himself for the sake of feelinganything but the emptiness of his cell, and in a psychotic outburst,destroys the TV, and...(G)(oh man I forgot where I left off... please bear with me if I mistookthe paging) He spent the next few days mourning the TV, missing thecharacters he used to obsessed over as much as the family he slowlystarted to lose memories of. It was a pitiful sight. Since thebeginning of the abduction period, the abductor has been feedingVictim lies, from the reason he kidnapped him (preserve his amazingabilities, keep him safe from others who were after his skills, noone appreciated his...(H)His skills as much as he did, and it was obvious b***) but the damagecame when he gradually convinced him his family didn't care, that'swhy he was trapped for so long. And victim was convinced his familyloved him above all else, but as time passed and hallucinationsbegan, he lost that conviction, not at all helped by abductor'sconstant false reassurance. Abductor also lied about the time frame,coming down with cake to celebrate their one year anniversary whenit's been a few months.  (I) Little did victim know, his family werekilled the night of his kidnapping. Finally, at the last day, or afew days after he lost the TV, abductor has moved the broken pieces,only to miss one screen glass shard that victim hid under hismattress. And it happened as victim tried to stab his abductor, inself defense, the abductor threw the victim off, and his head hit thesink. Cue panic stricken abductor, not thinking straight with theamount of blood, and wrapping the victim up...(J)... wrapping him up and throwing him in an alley across the citybefore fleeing the country. Now my biggest dilemma lies in twothings! One: I need him to have amnesia for plot related reasons,very important, but I'm afraid that will make all of what he wentthrough redundant, so the list of after effects I made him have is..Severe anxiety, depression, anger management issues, avoidance ofdark places (full blown panic attacks if forced into an sort of darkroom)… K) Vague, abstract night terrors, extreme loneliness even inthe company of friends, and fear of neglect. He has a few namelesstriggers, any show on TV like the shows he used to watch, not feelingclean, showering more than once a day as he lost that privilegehaving to use the sink to clean up, horror movies for all thereasons. Two: how does the state (any) and hospital actually dealwith this situation, I realize this is out of your expertisepossibly, but I'd appreciate a nudge… (M) A new cycle of abusebegins between him and his boss, manager and unit mates, but I'llleave that for another ask ^^; This got so long, I'm sorry, but I'dlike your criticism and input on my story so far, it actually takesup two other victims of abuse and my MCs road to recovery. I'm veryadamant on making this right. Thank you!!

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This is a follow up to a previous ask. Honestly- I’m still finding the question a little confusing. I’ll answer to the best of my ability but I may well have misinterpreted it.

 That said- I think you need to do a lot of reading and completely rewrite your story if you really do want to make this realistic and respectful. At the moment I think it’s a very long way off.

 I think I said that last time so this time I’m going to be blunt. I do not think you are ready to write torture.

 Firstly, specify the amount of time this character is held. Decide. Don’t keep things vague in the hope that it’ll seem more realistic.

 You don’t have to tell your readers the detail of how long your character is held or every detail of what happens to him but if you don’t know then you can’t work to show the effects realistically.

 I can’t decide what your plot should be for you. And if you’re unwilling to define what you’re putting your character through and for how long I can’t give a reasonable estimate of how likely he is to survive.

 Memory loss in torture scenarios does not work in the way you’re describing. That kind of ‘amnesia’ and losing old, established memories of family members does not happen. Not without significant, disabling brain injury that effects other things like being able to move and breath.

 If you want to know what memory loss in torture survivors is like I have a post here that covers it.

 Torture survivors do not regress into some sort of savage ‘animalistic’ state. They do not forget how to speak.

 Frankly I think these kinds of unrealistic tropes are incredibly insulting to survivors.

 It’s saying that torture has ‘made’ the survivor dangerous and unreasonable. Those are exactly the kinds of arguments people use to stop survivors getting treatment in real life. Don’t add to that.

 Hallucinations in solitary are not common.

 They become more likely if a person is held for a long time (over a month), but since you are not giving me a time frame I can’t say whether this is likely or not.

 If the character is held long enough that hallucinations and a psychotic break become likely then- given the conditions you’ve described, the character is likely to die from cold, starvation or disease before the captor dumps them outside.

 People can die from the cold very very quickly. If the character is repeatedly subjected to freezing temperatures for a long time then they are probably going to die of hypothermia.

 Additionally the phrasing throughout this sounds as though it’s taking the abuser’s ‘side’ over the victim’s.

 No one ever ‘has’ to abuse anyone else. It is never necessary.

 On a related note- I think you’re severely underestimating the damage caused by beating. It is very easy to beat a person to death. The way I’m interpreting the question it sounds like the abuser beats the victim when he tries to escape. It sounds like the abuser beats the victim until he stops moving every time this happens.

 There isn’t much difference between beating someone unconscious and beating them to death. If the character is regularly being hit until he passes out then he probably wouldn’t live for more then two weeks.

 Which is not long enough for the extreme effects of solitary confinement you’re describing.

 I think this scenario is a very strange mix of treating people as too resilient and too fragile. The physical abuses you’re describing seem really like to kill the character. At the same time the mental health issues you’re describing are completely unrealistic and-

 Well honestly? As a mentally ill person I think this depiction of mental illness is insulting. It is degrading. It shows no understanding of mental illness and no compassion for people who are mentally ill.

 I struggle to speak sometimes because of my mental illness. It does not make me an animal. It does not mean I can not think. And it certainly doesn’t mean I can’t describe what I was going through when that moment has passed.

 The list of ‘severe’ symptoms you’ve given isn’t what you’re actually describing the character having. Your description does not sound like mood swings, anxiety and depression with a few triggers.

 If you were writing these symptoms accurately I would tell you that your list is not enough. If I was just relying on that list I would suggest more symptoms and writing them to a greater severity.

 But I can’t just rely on the list. Because your description of the character’s mental state and what he goes through contradicts your list. Which suggests to me that you either haven’t decided what symptoms the character should have or you don’t understand what mental health problems are like.

 I do not think you are ready to write mental illness.

 I could go into more detail. But I don’t think it’s going to benefit either of us if I go through this and tell you why every single detail here is wrong.

 My job here is not to write your story for you. And it isn’t to make moral decisions for you either.

 If you are serious about writing torture or abuse respectfully then for now you need to stop writing. Instead I need you to do some reading. Because if you want to do this ‘right’ then you need to gain an understanding of what torture is, what it does to people and how they cope with it afterwards.

 So I’m going to give you a reading list. I think you should read each of these books carefully.

 Why Torture Doesn’t Work by S O’Mara

The Question by H Alleg (if English isn’t your first languages this is available in other languages, pick the one you’re most comfortable with)

A Darkling Plain by K R Monroe

A Sourcebook on Solitary Confinement by S Shalev

To the Kwai and Back by R Searle

 I think you should also read Black Jacobins by C L R James.

 Take your time. Make notes.

 When you’ve done that I think you should go to Amnesty International’s website and look at their recent interviews with torture survivors. Pick two or three large studies. Read detailed accounts from at least fifteen different people.

 Then I think you should come back to the story and completely rewrite it based on what you’ve learnt.

 I am not saying that you should never write torture. But it’s obvious from the plot and characters you’ve proposed that you don’t know enough to write it well yet. Take the time to gain that understanding before you write. You will write a better story for it.

 If you don’t want to do the research don’t write about torture.

 It’s a difficult topic to engage with. If you try and fail then that isn’t your fault. Reading about torture is upsetting. Not every one can deal with it in depth. That isn’t anyone’s fault or failing.

 But if you can’t cope with reading about the reality, if you can’t educate yourself, then you can’t speak on behalf of torture survivors.

 If you can’t listen to them then you simply don’t know enough to tell their stories.

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[cinderscoria]

(if i time it right) the thunder breaks

Pairings: Maxine/Paula, though it’s not the focus Warnings: Small one for depression, not nearly as prominent as my other fics tho Spoilers: Through the season 3 finale Title: (if i time it right) the thunder breaks Summary: (i wanna love you, but i don’t know how)

or, Maxine struggles to understand Five’s aversion to antidepressants and comes to realize she doesn’t really know the Runner at all.

-

Dysthymia, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Post-traumatic Stress Disorder…

Maxine presses her lips into a thin line, dark eyes scanning over the personnel file in her hands. It’s been three years since Five came to Abel and about that long since she’d read through the file Mullins had sent over on their “temporary loan.” Truth be told, she’d barely glanced at the background and psychological portions, more interested in what she had to know about the Runner’s body in order to treat her properly. But years later, Five’s physical well being isn’t what’s concerning her now. It’s been three months since that awful day in London and Runner Five… hasn’t been doing well.

The doctor had to seriously dig to find this damn file, and reading through it now she’s wishing she’d paid better attention to it. The time stamp is dated almost four years ago—Five would have been fifteen when Mullins took her in. Maxine closes her eyes and tries to imagine the Runner that young and already dealing with the imbalances in her brain. She’s good at hiding it. Five can wipe her face cleaner than anyone Maxine knows—including Janine. Maybe that’s why it’s taken this long for Maxine to look up exactly what is wrong with her Runner.

She skips the background like she always does—everyone deserves some privacy, although what Five could have possibly been up to at fifteen she couldn’t imagine—and peers at the list of medications Five had been on. Trazodone, Zoloft, and Lamotrigine.

“Two out of three ain’t bad,” she murmurs to herself.

“Maxie?”

Maxine jumps but manages to hold onto the file, whirling to find Paula standing in the doorway of the lab, dark eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing up so late? It’s past curfew.”

“I know,” Maxine admits, crossing to her so she could give her a kiss. “I was thinking.”

“About what?” Paula places a hand on Maxine’s belly and they stop a moment to grin at each other, amazed all over again they’re going to be mothers, before Maxine kisses her again, softer this time.

“I’m happy,” she says quietly, moving to put her hand on Paula’s. “I am here, with you, and our baby, and nothing is wrong.”

Paula smiles into her mouth. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there.”

Maxine draws back to look into her eyes, serious for a second. “Did you know that Runner Five has brought in more antidepressants than any Runner in Abel, ever?”

“No?”

“She has. I’ve been keeping track.” Maxine holds up the file. “Mullins diagnosed her with multiple mental and emotional disorders. She had been on medication before coming to Abel, but as far as I know she hasn’t taken any since.”

Paula catches on immediately. “You’re worried about her.”

“I’ve been worried since Moonchild made her hurt Sam,” Maxine tells her. The memory of it is still so raw—she’d been woken from her pod to Janine attempting to hold down a damn near hysterical Sam insisting through a half-strangled voice that they needed to find Five, Jody lying unconscious on a cot and Five missing in action, again. She hadn’t known what to think, couldn’t even get the full story out of Sam until she’d threatened to tie him down so she could treat him. Even then, his story made no sense: Five sneaking back into Abel, opening the gates, knocking out Jody and then confronting him in the comms shack where they’d hidden the ZRD; how she’d smiled as her right hand crushed his windpipe and her left raised her ax to deliver the final blow; how she’d stopped, eyes widening, spilling over with tears, and then she’d dropped her ax and sprinted from the room, leaving Sam distraught and hoarse and baffled in his shack.

“And then Simon,” Paula guesses, breaking Maxine from the memory. “He and Five were close, even after everything.”

Maxine nods. She’s seen Five on the roof of the bunkhouse, fingering the rosary beads and cross Simon had given to her before he’d put on the helmet. “Living an apocalypse is traumatic enough, but come on, Paula. The girl’s not even nineteen yet.” She draws a breath. “I wanted… to find a way to thank her. For not giving up on me, for bringing you back to me, for everything she’s done for us—for Abel, for the world, really. With all the medication she brings in on every mission we have more than enough to get her started. I want her to be happy, too.”

Paula smiles at her and runs a hand through her hair before kissing her again, one more time, lips gentle. “It’s a wonderful idea,” she tells her.

“Why thank you, darling,” Maxine teases with a laugh. “Go on back to bed. I’m going to write a formal request to Hiram Mulligan and then I’ll join you.”

“All right, love.” Paula’s hand lingers where it rests on Maxine’s stomach before she slips out the door and into the night.

Maxine grins, breathless all of a sudden, wondering how the hell she got so lucky.

-

It takes two days for the request to go through, but Maxine knows Hiram likes to be thorough. There’s a lot of danger in prescribing medication nowadays, especially for the mentally ill, because there’s only one professional psychiatrist in the entire township and the man has a lot on his plate on a good day. Monitoring closely is a thing of the past now—but trial and error could be disastrous when some of the medications could literally kill you.

Maxine has a little more faith in Five than that. She’s survived everything life has thrown at her so far, after all. Maxine just hopes she can make her a little more comfortable doing so, that’s all.

Luckily, it’s Five’s rest day when the request goes through, so Maxine sets to tracking her down.

Where does Five go when she isn’t running? Maxine grins to herself and heads straight for Sam’s shack.

Only to find their head radio operator sprawled out on his cot, dead to the world and snoring—decidedly alone. Despite herself, Maxine has to smile softly at the sight. Paula may be her soul mate but Sam Yao is undoubtedly her best friend in the entire world, and seeing him finally able to sleep makes her heart hurt a little bit.

They almost always schedule his rest days with Five’s, so the fact that she isn’t here with him is kind of puzzling, though if the Rice Krispie Treat wrappers are anything to go by she’d been in at one point. Maxine eases the door shut again and gnaws on her lower lip, deciding to check the track next.

Five’s only satisfied when she’s doing something to help the Township. If Maxine had been paying better attention, she would have caught onto her Runner’s self worth issues back when she’d seemed convinced that they would kick her out of the Township if she didn’t bring back a certain number of items out on her run. Maybe that’s Maxine’s fault, for making her swing by the hospital that first run in—the same hospital their previous Five, Alice, had been caught and killed in—before they’d granted her sanctuary. But that was before she’d gotten to know the girl, barely seventeen then, so young and so hard and angry and violent. Her brief flashes of mischievous humor, her gentleness around children and animals, how Sam made her soft, how Sara made her strong. How she’d understood that one day at the damn barn, when Maxine had to see if the message was from Paula, enough that she willingly put both herself and Five in harm’s way just to know. By all rights and purposes, Five should have been furious with her. But instead she’d nodded and gripped her arms and saved her life and eventually, finally, brought Paula home to her.

Unexpected tears spring to Maxine’s eyes thinking about it, and she brushes them away, surprised and annoyed. There’s no reason to feel guilty about it years later. Five was doing her job. She’d been there when they’d found Paula’s “last” transmission. She’d been used as a hostage to lure Maxine out after being captured that first time by Van Ark. And when that was all over, she’d dropped at Maxine’s feet out of sheer exhaustion, her body pushed to the limit, and Maxine had realized suddenly and with violent clarity that Jade Black, Runner Five, was her friend and she was terrified she was never going to see her again.

Maxine shakes herself of the memories and promptly blames all this sentimental nonsense on her rampaging pregnancy hormones.

The track is really just a carved out loop in what must have been a crop field, though it’s been paved now and the dirt has been packed to make it more even. There are bleachers—wooden and hand built. They have to improvise in an apocalypse, after all.

There Five is, jogging at a steady pace, earphones stuck in her ears as she circles the track. One of Simon’s quirks—he liked to pick up ipods, mp3 players and walkmans and hand them to the other Runners (after Jack, Eugene, Phil and Zoe had ripped them of their tracks, of course). They listen to the music as they train until the battery runs out, and then onto the next one.

Five’s the only one who still does it now. Maybe she’s trying to keep something of Simon still alive in the aftermath. Maxine’s not one to snatch away a person’s coping mechanisms.

She waves Five down on her next go around, fingering the pill bottles in her pocket, feeling oddly excited about this entire thing. There goes that sentiment again.

Five is wary as she slows and takes her headphones from her ears. She signs a quick, one handed What’s up? at her as she approaches.

“I’ve been doing some reading,” Maxine starts out, trying to shove her sudden nerves to the side so she can get this done. “Your file, actually, the one Mullins had on you? Anyway, I saw that you used to be on medication before you came to Abel and you stopped, so I dug around a bit.” She draws the bottles from her pocket and offers them to the Runner. “I only got 50 milligram tablets of Trazodone and 200 milligram tablets of Zoloft, so monitoring is going to be weird. We’re going to have to be creative to make it last, but it should be okay if we go slow, I think.”

She beams, waiting for Five to respond. The teen stares at the bottles for an uncomfortably long second before shaking her head. I don’t want it, she signs.

“What?” Maxine blinks, trying to figure out if she read her hands wrong. “Why not? It’s all right here, Five, I don’t—”

And Five cuts her off with a set jaw, signing, I’m fine. I don’t need it.

“Five—” But the Runner has already stuck her headphones back in her ears and takes off again, at a faster pace this time.

Maxine stares dumbfounded at her back as she puts distance between them.

-

“I can’t believe this!” Maxine rages, pacing the length of the comm’s shack. “Do you know how much negotiating I had to do to even snag her spot with the highest dose? Because I know that she has a high tolerance for medication, I knew that from experience! I knew she’d want to work her way up to 200 mg, I knew that about her, and she doesn’t even want to try!”

Sam, sleepy-eyed and decidedly unhappy about being awoken from his nap, says, “Maxine, I really think you might be overthinking this—”

Maxine whirls on him. He startles backwards, eyes widening, as she leans into his face and hisses, “I am not overreacting.”

“I said over thinking!” he protests, hands up. “Listen, Maxie, it’s really nice that you’re doing this for her, but you have to understand that Five isn’t the type to accept help from anyone. She thinks it implies that she’s weak.”

“I just wanted to help!” Maxine says incredulously.

“I know, I just—” Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. “You tell her that, you could probably get her to take the meds, but Maxie, it’s taken her this long to even think that we might actually want her here at Abel.”

Maxine glares and breathes hard through her nose. “What the hell does that mean?”

“She told me once,” Sam says, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, “that she is okay with being needed, even if she isn’t wanted. She thinks that if she has a job to do she has to do it, no exceptions, or we’ll cut her.”

“I… what?”

“Yeah.” Sam looks up at her from his cot and smiles a little, though the expression holds no mirth. “If you imply that the medication is to help her do her job, she’ll take it, but she’ll also think that she’s failing and that probably won’t help at all. So.”

Maxine, floored, drops into the chair at his desk and stares at the wall for a long moment. The anger dissipates immediately, leaving her tired and sad. “Okay then,” she utters. “How do I get her to not think that?”

Sam ponders on it. “I don’t know if you can, to be honest Maxine. She’s always been that way. It’s taken me a long time to get her to understand that she’s enough by herself for me, regardless of what she does or doesn’t do.” He grins, self deprecating. “Actually I think it took her almost killing me to get it through her head. That I’m her friend and I accept her for who she is.”

Hurt floods through her. “She doesn’t think we’re friends?”

“No, it’s not that. She holds herself to a certain expectation, who she thinks you approve of.” Sam runs a hand through his unruly black hair. “She’s good at it, I didn’t catch it for months. It’s like she conforms to whoever she thinks is best for you. Like how with me she’s gentler, with Janine she slips into an almost military persona, with Simon she would pull pranks and joke around, you know?”

“Well yeah, obviously,” Maxine says, furrowing her brow. “We all experience varying levels of comfort around the people we’re closest to, how much of ourselves we can reveal depending on who we’re talking to.”

“Yes but Maxine, you’re not hearing me.” Sam leans closer, dark eyes bright. “She does it with everyone. It’s like those flip books, yeah? The ones where you can change the outfit by flipping the pages? Except I don’t think she has a base, Maxie. Like all of these different masks make up her face. I don’t think she even knows who she is at her core.”

“You seem to know,” Maxine points out.

“Yes, but it took three years and a near death experience to get us to where we are,” he counters.

“So you’re saying I should get her to try to kill me.”

“No! Oh, you’re joking,” he realizes, before giving her a light smack on the arm. “That’s not funny, Maxie! You’re one of the mothers of my child, I need you to stay alive! Good grief,” he mutters to himself. “Anyway, listen, Five is just a really tough shell to crack, but what you’re doing for her is good. You should keep at it.”

Maxine studies him for a second before it dawns on her. “You want me to get her to want the meds,” she says.

Sam winks at her. “Got it in one.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

The radio operator shrugs and grins. “Convince her you want her instead of need her.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“You can do it, Maxine,” he says sincerely, “you’re the most stubborn person I know.” He reaches out so he can snag her hand and squeezes it once. “If anyone can convince our Runner that she’s loved, it’s you.”

Maxine sighs. “As if anyone can say no to that face. All right,” she concedes, giving him a small smile as she makes her way to the door. “I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl.”

-

Maxine stands at the edge of the track, worrying her lip and gazing at the far end of the Township. The walls they erected have spread the bigger Abel grows, so what was once a straight cement wall is now a winding ridge that curves alongside the treeline, providing some additional cover.

Five is long gone, of course, probably took off the second Maxine stormed off to find Sam. Maxine just needs a second to process all of this. All… of it.

On one hand, she’s hurt by Five rejecting the medication. She can’t help but feel resentful—her going out of her way to help her friend, all of that work for nothing, Five dismissing it with barely a glance had stung and she isn’t entirely sure why. But at the same time… she remembers being young and angry, unable to be herself around the people she cared about. Growing up gay, black, and female at the same time as being the daughter of a wealthy business tycoon did not coincide with the picture of the ideal Midwestern teenager. Maxine had to fight for every good thing in her life, and she’d had to fight everyone doing it. So she understands, sort of, where Five is coming from. That at least warrants some measure of patience.

A hand appears on her shoulder. Maxine jumps a mile and whirls to find the subject of her thoughts standing behind her, looking inappropriately abashed—be it from her earlier behavior or the fact that she’d scared Maxine just now, the doctor isn’t sure.

“Five,” she exclaims. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

The teen flashes her a grim smile, no teeth. Maxine wants to kick herself. Of course Five can’t call out a hello. Off to a fantastic start already, Maxie.

I’m sorry, Five signs to her. Thank you for the pills.

Maxine stares at her. “You’ll take them?”

Five watches her with a furrowed brow, like she’s trying to read between the lines. That’s what you want, right? she signs with a shrug. Doctor’s orders?

Maxine wants to tear her hair out. This is like trying to navigate a minefield! She inhales deep, keeping a lid on her emotions. “What do you want, Five?”

Five doesn’t have to sign this one—the startled look on her face speaks for itself. Maxine elaborates, “Do you want the meds or not? If you don’t want them I’m not going to force them down your throat. I just figured it would be nice to balanced again. I know you’re going through a hard time, especially lately—”

And at that Five snorts and throws her hands up. Everyone is going through a hard time right now. She spreads her arms wide, indicating the apocalypse as a whole probably. Everyone has something wrong with them.

Maxine holds the teen’s eyes. “I don’t care about everybody else. I care about you.”

Brief incredulity crosses Five’s face, and doesn’t that just hurt more than the barbed words the Runner is signing? Does she really not believe that she’s her friend?

Five seems to read her face, because she shakes her head and looks away. It’s not that, she signs. I know you care.

“You just don’t believe me.”

I believe you think you care, Five counters.

“You don’t think I know you well enough to know?”

I think I lie well.

It’s said so simply Maxine is startled into silence. Five is very matter of fact stating it, almost cold, but Maxine knows what she’s doing.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she prods softly.

Five sighs, caught. She has to think about it, looking anywhere but Maxine’s face. It’s not that I don’t want it, she allows finally. There are so many other people, they need it more.

“And you think you don’t need it.”

I’m alive, right? It’s signed with a sardonic grin, such a spot on reflection of Sam’s earlier self-deprecating smirk it’s eerie. Maxine suddenly understands exactly what Sam meant when talking about Five’s masks.

She shakes herself and carefully maps out how to tread going forward. “Five, you’re not a robot. Nobody expects you to keep going when you reach your limit—”

But they do, Five corrects. I do have to. Or the world ends, remember? Or people die? And her face crumples. People die anyway.

Maxine knows that’s for Simon. She pushes the pang back. “Five, death is not your limit. You know that, don’t you? You don’t exist just to keep other people happy. You do it really well, and I will forever be grateful for that, but I’d rather have you happy and failing than—”

Happy? Five’s brows shoot up, and she huffs a laugh that’s all air and no voice. “Happy” isn’t real. I cannot fix me not being happy. I cannot be happy for you. It doesn’t work like that.

She seems to be on the verge of something. Maxine studies her. Her shoulders are rigid straight, her almond shaped eyes bright and wide, her lips pursed, her fingers fists. It’s then Maxine realizes, all of a sudden, that nothing she says is going to help Five.

She doesn’t understand the girl at all.

That said, she can listen. Five needs to get this out. She doesn’t talk much, Maxine knows, outside of mission reports and whatever conversations she has with Sam. And it can’t be nearly enough to get out everything the teen feels on any given day. That’s unhealthy even without them being smack dab in the middle of an apocalypse, where they can die at any moment and lose people they care about. Maxine doesn’t know a damn thing about where Five came from and who she’s lost, and that’s hardly fair. The least she can do is provide the outlet Five sorely needs, even if she doesn’t realize it.

So she waits, and sure enough, Five’s hands come up again. Maybe before, it would be okay for me to have pills, she says, fingers trembling. Before, when I was not the majority and I was sick and I deserved special treatment. But now, everyone is sick and broken and wrong. I can’t complain about it hurting because everyone hurts. It doesn’t make me special.

Maxine has to bite back her argument. Nothing she says Five will believe, but God that’s so wrong Five is special she is important she is allowed to hurt and get help for it and to be treated like she’s precious—

But Five isn’t done. If I can do my job, I can stay. I can protect the people I care about and it will be okay. I have made it this far without pills.

“But unhappy,” Maxine points out, unable to help herself, unhappy too.

Five smiles again. It doesn’t reach her eyes. Did you read the background in my file? And when Maxine shakes her head: I was diagnosed when I was eight. I didn’t get medication until I was fifteen. I had pills for seven months before D day. I will not take away medication I don’t need from people who do. I won’t.

The admission makes Maxine’s mouth go dry. Eight. Eight years old. She can’t even imagine Five being eight years old. She tries to picture a scowling child, hardened already by life’s hardships and the glitches in DNA she can’t control, and can’t quite manage it.

Five nods once, as if confirming Maxine’s thoughts, but the doctor gives her a small smile. “Five,” she starts, gently, “I can’t even begin to understand what it’s like.” The teen remains guarded, sensing a catch—even though there isn’t one. “There was a time when I suffered through a few depression episodes myself. And I know it’s not the same, I know “once upon a time” doesn’t even come close to how you feel every day since you were eight.”

As long as I can remember, Five confirms.

Maxine takes a breath. “That said, you have to know that Dr. Mulligan and I discussed it and we can afford to part with the medication you need. We have balanced it, compared notes, determined probabilities. Between you and the other Runners, we have and will probably continue to have the resources to spare, with plenty left over, to get you started on Zoloft and Trazodone. And if we run out, then we run out, and I will let you know far ahead of time so we can either replenish supplies or wane you off it so you don’t have to cold turkey it, but the point is, I am offering you this because I can afford to, because I have the ability to and because I want to. Because you are my friend and I care about you, and even if you can’t be happy I can at least help you stabilize.”

Five’s still waiting for the but, and Maxine smiles. “So what do you say?”

You’re sure. You’re sure it won’t hurt anybody. Five holds Maxine’s gaze as the doctor nods, and her eyes suddenly fill with tears. Okay, she signs, okay, okay, okay, okay.

Maxine opens her arms, and Five—so adverse to touch—throws herself into them.

Eight years old, Maxine thinks, stroking Five’s hair as the Runner cries soundlessly into her chest. Jesus.

-

Two months later and Five shows up in the lab, rapping her knuckles to grab Maxine and Paula’s attention.

“Five!” Maxine exclaims, getting up off the bar stool. “Come on in, honey, we were just discussing names for the baby.”

The teen arches her brows. Without Sam?

“Oh no, he’s given us his input,” Paula says with a laugh, holding up the list of names the radio operator had scrawled out. “I can’t even read most of these.”

Five grins—the expression lights up her entire face, and even though Maxine’s had months to get used to it the change still surprises her. She looks so much younger smiling like that. Maybe I can help, she signs, pulling up a stool herself. I can read anything.

“I don’t know, Five.” Paula clucks her tongue and turns the paper towards her. “This chicken scratch is worse than Maxie’s when she’s rushing.”

“Unkind,” Maxine says, giving her girlfriend a smack on the shoulder. She smiles at Five. “Anyway, we still got a ways to go before we have to worry about that. How are you doing? Really?”

The teen ducks her head, a show of bashfulness that usually comes from people showing they care about her. She still hesitates, unsure of anything that appears to be free and without consequence, but around Maxine she’s relaxed exponentially. I’m good, she signs, one-handed. Very good. I think they’re working.

“Well that’s good,” Maxine says, beaming. “Dr. Mulligan told me that you seem brighter and more regulated, too, so score one for us, right?”

Five nods, somewhat jerkily, glancing up and then away in the same second. Maxine doesn’t press, and sure enough the teen continues haltingly. I wanted to say thank you. I’d forgotten what it was like to be this high. I’m sorry I fought you on it.

“Five,” Maxine starts gently, “I can’t fault you for not wanting to take away resources from people. That was really noble of you. But you know that even if we were low on medication, I still would have given it to you, right?”

That brings out a spectacular frown of disapproval from the teen, but Maxine holds up a hand so she can finish. “Because regardless of you being important to the Township, you are important to me. And I want you to be okay. Actually I want you to be happy, but, you know. Baby steps.”

“The same goes for me too, Five,” Paula adds.

Five smiles at floor. Maxine reaches out and squeezes her arm once, aware that a good chunk of her mothering towards the teen is pure hormones—but honestly, if she can get in good practice and give Five a piece of the childhood she’d never had at the same time, then she isn’t complaining.

And neither is Five, despite the awkwardness that comes with accepting gifts she doesn’t think she deserves. But they’re working on it, and that’s all that really matters.

Five reaches again for the paper and glances through it. Then she points at a name and fingerspells it for them.

“Sara,” Maxine reads, trying it out. Warmth spreads through her as she ponders the name. Paula grabs her hand, soft and sweet and real and here. Maxine smiles at Five.

“It’s perfect,” she says.