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#after art fight its like i can draw everything but also forgot how I drew before. aka
dojutsufuryfray · 2 years
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@sasuhinamonth
Day 1 Aienkien | Day 2 Basorexia
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fowl-leaf · 4 months
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my 2023 summary of art!
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still not consistently posting anywhere, but I like doing these. they're fun there's a lot of things i would've liked to include but had to exclude, due to not being shareable on this account. maybe i'll have more stuff next year!
this is long, so details under the cut
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JANUARY silly lizard oc i generally dont do much single line hatching, so it was nice to fiddle with it this time
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FEBRUARY the wittle scrunkly lizard last time i drew this one, they were an lps shitpost, so its nice to like draw them normally lol
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MARCH herman is running out of time glasses axolotl but make him neon idk
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APRIL fancy calico i honestly dont know whats up with the clothes, i just kinda drew whatever tbh
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MAY yippie!! toontown oc! was playing ttcc w/shard and co, this is the character i ended up making i also got covid around april-march iirc so i was feeling horrid for a while (and the remaining symptoms didnt clear up till like june)
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JUNE an oc i got years ago but didnt have the confidence to draw for a while lmao anyways i like her colors and shape, she's fun
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JULY mandatory artfight posting this was one of the last ones i did! ocs belong to pookapooka and they were so fun to paint
idk if ill be doing artfight again tbh. ive been doing it consistently since sun vs moon but its honestly felt less fun ever since the tiktok invasion`and how ppls behavior has changed, and especially since the whole ownership thing that happened mid fight this year. (not interested in any of the alternatives ive seen either bc they have the same issues, notably worse issues, or are not furry friendly) but tbh that might just be me being disenchanted with online art spaces due to the intensifying shittification of basically everything, fucking rip
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AUGUST ring but hes going to jail (again but for real this time) the staxie monthly prompt was barbie mugshots but i . . . i did this with ring and lumos and promptly forgor to do this with cakes and ale like i was planning to lmfao im actually gonna watch the barbie movie tonight, renting it so i can watch it on the big tv (didnt watch in theaters bc expensive (movie tickets are generally 15-25 bucks in my area (compared to the 5-10 in my aunt's area (renting is cheaper per person)), and they changed the chairs to these weird uncomfy pleather recliners that make my skin crawl to "justify the price raise" + i hate sitting for more than an hour i need water, bathroom, stretch, and snack breaks))
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SEPTEMBER ganache went over the hedge was very busy w/projects so i did little casual art this was inspired by me comparing the over the hedge version of supermarket by ben folds (upbeat & high energy) vs the one by the clash (melancholy + commercial-induced agony) ever since then i cant stop thinking abt how much the lemon demon guy's voice sounds like the fucking clash guy sdjkhfkjsd also over the hedge was one of my favorite movies as a kid and i watched it at least 10 times before we had to return the dvd to netflix. i also regularly played the flash games on the site until i forgot about it after finding out about miniclip + notdoppler from other kids and decided to use those for flash games instead bc more options lol
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OCTOBER dta img for a new oc i got, funny long neck budgie thingy busy w/projects again so little casual art had to use old mini tablet bc previous tablet was completely unusable fucking rip
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NOVEMBER ganache + cactus pony, they want to know if you have any bubblegum. do you? busy w/projects again so little casual art doodle i made in heavypaint (one of the old layerless versions, i bought a lisence for it a while ago.) i got a new tablet on black friday since the mini tablet was horrible + my broken tablet was making me work very slow
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DECEMBER ring in the void (this is lore accurate) or as nic put it, "fucked up twilight sparkle" lol busy w/projects + gifts so little casual art i actually sketched this w/the mini tablet, but didnt finish it up till getting the new tablet
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for reading this far, you get to see amogus.
i would've put amogus whisper on the chart but decided against it since im not done with that one yet lmao
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tehuti88-art · 8 months
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9/15/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." Whew, rather glad to finally get this guy out of the way.
This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Obergefreiter (Corporal) Adalard von Staden, with flight helmet and goggles (top drawing), with flight helmet and goggles down (middle drawing), and with garrison cap (bottom drawing). He's a young but skilled pilot whose character I rather abandoned for a while but decided to resurrect; as such he needs a background, though he's already developed a bit of plot in the main story. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.
Regarding his design, kind of a journey getting here; I looked up flight helmets and drew one, then when I got to the ear section I realized that with his ears I couldn't give it the standard built-in headphones! The part I'd been studying most. Oops. So he wears external headphones. Then after everything was finished I realized--I forgot his goggles!! So I had to tweak the finished drawing to add them, which also meant adding a third drawing.
Now you see why I'm glad to check him off my list.
TUMBLR EDIT: Adalard von Staden's story is still heavily under development and I haven't had time lately to iron out details, though you can see how part of it developed organically in Vischer's entry. That's from an outside observer's POV; now here's what I know so far from von Staden's POV, which is still heavily a WIP.
Von Staden dates to around the second reboot, circa 2000 or so. Here's how he's originally described:
ADALARD "EAGLE" VON STADEN: Cpl.; Nazi soldier captured by the Trench Rats. Appears in sequel
Firstly, note that back then, I casually equated "German soldier" with "Nazi." This no longer holds in the current version; von Staden is in the Wehrmacht (Luftwaffe), but isn't a member of the Nazi Party. Secondly, I kept track of which story the characters appeared in...I'm not quite sure what I meant by "sequel." Since it's considered separate from "current storyline" on the list yet von Staden wasn't intended to appear in Ultima Thule (the "epilogue") as far as I'm aware, I must have meant Reunion, which, although I consider it its own story arc, is still technically "current storyline." So, that's confusing. As well, in the current scenario, von Staden first appears early on in Reborn and then is absent for much of the plot, for reasons that will become clear; so this notation on the list should just be ignored. Finally, the nickname "Eagle." This was likely in reference to his flying skills, though I'll probably abandon it as hokey. Oddly, I'd THOUGHT it was a reference to his first name, but now I see that's impossible--"Adal-" is merely yet another reference to nobility (see Adel, Edelgard, and Adelina Dobermann for other examples); when I Google the German word for eagle, it's Adler. Close, but definitely not to be mistaken for Adalard. So maybe I had a faulty baby names book (how I got names back then), but more likely I just misremembered how he got his nickname.
Von Staden is a young Junker and a low-ranking member of the Luftwaffe (I don't know if they had such low-ranking soldiers in such positions, PLUS, I'm likely getting ranks wrong, as I generalize the Wehrmacht ranks between the branches, so if anyone knows a correction to offer, feel free, I get too confused looking into it myself); he's likely a flying ace. He's not a Nazi, he's uninterested in politics, but he loves his country and he loves the adventure of flying. He doesn't care for killing, though of course he loves the exhilaration of the fight and especially the victory. (NOTE that while one, the Luftwaffe very much did commit war crimes, and two, von Staden is not based on this person, still, his Wikipedia page offers some interesting details on unusual attitudes regarding killing the enemy, which did inspire some of my character's story actions: Hans-Joachim Marseille. Dude even listened to jazz music! *horrors*) He earns awards and medals and looks like he's going places.
He gets shot down near the start of Reborn and is forced to eject near an apparently abandoned village that was recently bombed. He lands safely, though is injured, and wanders into the village seeking medical attention. While there, he spots large shapes looming from the hazy air hanging over the buildings and steps aside in time to witness a bizarre procession: Large dogs with some sort of saddlebags slung across their shoulders and riders in gas masks high atop their necks, more masked figures atop eagles and hawks, a few riding motorcycles, and a large number of them on foot. (Most recently I imagine this scene in conjunction with Within Temptation's "Mercy Mirror." An earlier, alternate version featured Little River Band's "Middle Man." Frankly, the latter makes more sense.) Von Staden watches in awe as the large contingent of Trench Rats, members of the American Allied forces, move past and spread out through the gutted village, presumably seeking survivors, as the Rats astride the dogs have red crosses on their helmets. In particular, he notices one Rat on foot (Turquoise) who slows to a stop and crumples to his knees outside one house, as if nearly fainting; the Rat beside him hooks his elbow around his and carefully helps him up before gesturing at a few others to check inside. They return a few moments later with a couple of injured villagers in tow, and hand them off to a Rat who climbed down from one of the dogs. Then--a motorcycle with sidecar abruptly pulls up beside von Staden and he finds himself staring down the barrels of two guns, a Trench Rat sergeant and corporal both aiming right at him. Von Staden is promptly taken prisoner.
He's restrained, taken to one of the dogs, bustled up and into one of the box compartments, blindfolded, and has noise-dampening headphones placed on him. The ride--wherever--is long and bumpy. When the blindfold and headphones are finally removed, he finds himself in what appears to be a medical ward; a doctor tends to his injuries, though as he's doing so, the Trench Rat corporal arrives and starts talking to the doctor--the two seem to engage in a brief dispute. At last the doctor says to von Staden, in flawless German, "He wants to know if you're willing to answer questions regarding your identity and your mission. I'm not inclined to waste my time. Will you agree to be questioned or should I just tell him to f**k off now?" (Hahaha, for funsies I Google Translated and this came out as "Er möchte wissen, ob Sie bereit sind, Fragen zu Ihrer Identität und Ihrer Mission zu beantworten. Ich neige nicht dazu, meine Zeit zu verschwenden. Sind Sie bereit, befragt zu werden, oder soll ich ihm jetzt einfach sagen, dass er sich verpissen soll?" Actually not bad retranslated.) Von Staden is speechless for a moment before gathering himself and muttering, "Just tell him my name is Adalard von Staden, I am a corporal in the Luftwaffe, and I have nothing else to say." The doctor accordingly translates; the other corporal looks disgruntled, but retreats. Von Staden is silent as the doctor wraps up his wound, then asks, "What is going to happen to me, now?" The doctor, gathering his instruments, replies, "Now you're going to be treated as a prisoner of war."
Von Staden is uneasy, but soon realizes his fears are unfounded; the Trench Rats aren't interested in harming him. He remains in the medical ward for a time, though he's cuffed to the bed. And they're still interested in trying to get information out of him. He quickly catches on that most of the Rats are nicknamed after colors--the doctor is Burgundy, the pushy corporal is Gold, and the sergeant is Black. Neither Gold nor Black seems fluent in German, though Burgundy is, and either he or another Rat without a color nickname always translates; this fourth Rat is even better with the language than Burgundy is, talking like a native speaker, even with a trace of a regional accent. Von Staden spends a good deal of time trying to determine if he's American or German. Gold and Black, meanwhile, are polar opposites, yet both share the same goal, of trying to get von Staden to talk. Gold is quite voluble and rather loudmouthed--"He never shuts up, does he," von Staden says to the unnamed Trench Rat, who looks vaguely awkward before translating this for Gold, who just gets that peeved look again--whereas Black says few words and is soft spoken. He also seems less easily irritated than Gold; although he never threatens or says anything ominous, he conceals his emotions well, so von Staden can't get a read on him, and this makes him nervous.
Either way, both keep trying to get him to answer questions, and he keeps refusing. He wonders just how far he can push them, and though he remains polite and civil toward Black and Burgundy--both of whom outrank him--and toward the other Rat, who is always polite himself--he offers increasingly flippant responses to Gold, whom he views as an equal and thus fair game. Gold's obviously short temper is hard to resist. Gold does frequently look annoyed, and offers insulting responses of his own (Burgundy finally refuses to continue translating their spats for each other--"You'll have to act like children without my aid"--leaving the fourth Trench Rat to do the job instead), but never quite steps over the line. He and Black share a few words one day and Gold makes a dismissive gesture before saying something and leaving; Black nods at the fourth Rat, who tells von Staden that he'll be dealing with him and Black now. Von Staden feels a twinge of disappointment--his verbal sparring with Gold had been vaguely amusing--but says nothing to Black, who soon also leaves. Von Staden gets the fourth Rat's attention before he can go as well.
Von Staden: "You. I don't know your name."
Trench Rat: "It doesn't matter."
Von Staden: "You've been respectful with me so I'd appreciate to refer to you by a proper name, rather than 'You.'"
Trench Rat: *seeming vaguely uncomfortable* "I'm just here to translate, I don't mind how you refer to me." *turns to leave*
Von Staden: *quickly* "Are you German--?"
Trench Rat: *halts* "What...?"
Von Staden: "You speak like a comrade, like you're from the city. Were you born there? Is the Fatherland yours?"
Trench Rat: "I'm American."
Von Staden: *slightly disappointed* "Then I must say your command of the language is impeccable, I thought for sure you must be one of us. Even your doctor doesn't speak with a German accent. How did you learn it so well?"
Trench Rat: *pause* "Immersion." *turns to leave* "I have to get back to my work now."
Von Staden: "Could I at least have your name?"
Trench Rat: *halts again; hesitates* "Weltuntergang." *exits*
Von Staden is left with a lot to think about. The Trench Rat interpreter's codename translates to end of the world. Doomsday. Von Staden knows exactly who he's dealing with now, as well as why he speaks such perfect German. Projekt Weltuntergang is an SS-funded experiment to increase a subject's strength, stamina, and intelligence, the final goal being to create a supersoldier; there's been lots of subdued talk about the perfected serum eventually being used on subjects exactly like von Staden, but the project has been plagued with bugs and this is unlikely to happen any time soon. So far, the project's poster child has been an American soldier who was briefly captured and detained before being rescued upon the formation of the Trench Rats; that's who this is. He wasn't a test subject for long, which is what amazes von Staden even more--during his brief imprisonment, he learned to speak German with a German accent, well enough to fool a native speaker. Von Staden is all kinds of fascinated by Doomsday, and wishes to know more, though the Trench Rat seems uninclined to oblige him.
Black Rat takes notice of this, however, and calls a small meeting with D-Day and Gold. He says that von Staden's obvious interest in D-Day--D-Day is the only Rat he attempts to initiate conversation with--might be used to their advantage, and suggests that D-Day answer the personal questions von Staden is peppering him with. It's quite a long shot, but just maybe von Staden will be a little more open to sharing some information of his own. D-Day doesn't outright object to the idea, but is plainly uncomfortable. Gold is the one who objects: "He could end up compromising himself," he protests. "He wouldn't be sharing any information that the German authorities don't already know," Black says, "the only difference is Herr von Staden presumably doesn't know." He reiterates how there's a slight chance it could lead to an exchange of information--von Staden might even slip up and overshare, or provide a seemingly innocuous detail that proves to be useful--and after an awkward pause D-Day promises to give it a shot, and leaves. Says Gold, "Yeah, well...I still think it's a sh*tty idea, no offense, with too much risk and too little benefit. And frankly I don't think you should've put him in this position." "He had the choice to say no," Black says, to which Gold retorts, "Did he, though...?"
D-Day returns to the medical ward and von Staden, who immediately perks up on seeing him; despite D-Day being American, and the enemy, he sees them as kindred spirits of a sort--they've both been prisoners of war. He asks a few general questions and seems a bit surprised when D-Day answers; yet instead of prying further, he hesitates, then ventures, "You seem uneasy, Herr Doomsday." D-Day dismisses this concern and says he's free to ask him anything else he'd like. "What has changed between today and yesterday--?" von Staden asks, perplexed. This time D-Day pauses before saying, "I've been advised to answer your questions. So, feel free to ask." Yet this comment has the exact opposite effect than intended; von Staden's confusion grows and he says, "Advised?--or ordered?" When D-Day insists he wasn't ordered to do anything, he refuses to believe it, and also refuses to ask any more questions. "I've been terribly rude, and I apologize," von Staden says; "Your life and experiences are none of my business, and it was thoughtless of me to presume they were." D-Day knows he can't press the issue without tipping him off that this was a strategic move, so he starts to leave; before he can reach the door, von Staden adds, "You shouldn't put up with them treating you like some sort of device to get what they want." D-Day stops, turns his head to look back at him. "It's not much different from what we did to you, is it...?" von Staden says, and D-Day exits.
So, Black's plan is a wash; he isn't upset by it, though Gold is rather soured by the attempt, and it has plainly bothered D-Day as he excuses himself to go lurk in the wiring tunnels for a while. Von Staden feels a little embittered as well, not so much by the attempted trick as by the fact that even the Americans stoop to such levels. Despite their relatively decent treatment of him, he decides to try to look for an opportunity to escape. He figures his chances are best while he's still in the medical ward; they're likely to transport him to a regular cell afterward, and he isn't sure if he'll be able to escape from there so easily; at least here, the only restraint he has to contend with is the cuff on his wrist. He figures out how to pick it with a tool he steals from a medical tray and keeps concealed, and memorizes the movements of various staff and visitors. He can hear whenever the Rats bring in other captured Germans, but they're always kept carefully separated so they can't communicate and the newcomers never have any idea von Staden is even there. He also decides to take a cue from Black although it chafes him: He'll try to use the electrical tunnels to escape, banking on D-Day allowing him to do so. It's a very slim chance but it's all he has. He makes one request of Burgundy, that he be given back his Iron Cross which was confiscated with the rest of his uniform; Burgundy is hesitant, sensing some hidden meaning in this, yet can't think of any possible mischief von Staden can get into with a mere medal, so grants his request and gives back the Cross. Von Staden spends some time staring at it and wistfully thinking of home, his parents and his older sister, hoping he can see them again soon.
The nurse, Skye, informs him one day that he'll be moved soon as his injury has healed well enough, so von Staden decides it's time to act. He tucks the Iron Cross safely away and waits for the brief period between shift changes when he'll be left unattended; he chooses a shift change between Skye and another female nurse, knowing he could never hope to take on one of the male interns like Indigo. (Indigo is big and strong and f**king scary. And he hates Germans.) The change occurs, the ward goes empty, and von Staden hurriedly picks his cuff and slips out of bed. Grabs a set of pajamas and slippers as he doesn't have time to seek his uniform, tucks them under his arm, and flees. Working backwards, he goes in the general direction he'd felt himself moving in when first brought there, a pattern he's repeated in his head multiple times. He spots a round door set up higher in the wall; judging by the danger symbols on it, he guesses this leads to the electrical tunnels, and hauls the heavy door open and climbs inside, uncertain of what he'll find.
The tunnel is cramped, but serviceable. Von Staden starts crawling. He spots something he'd been hoping to find: A schematic of part of the tunnel layout. It's not the entire thing, but it'll do. He locates what he hopes is an exit to the outside and heads that way.
Before he can reach that tunnel branch, it happens--a torch beam flickers across his field of vision, and a second shadowy shape crawls into the tunnel. Von Staden and D-Day stare at each other a moment, the latter blinking with surprise and confusion. Von Staden promptly turns and goes scurrying, ignoring the Trench Rat's shouted "Hey--!" though he does reach into his gown and pull out his medal, dropping it behind him with a clatter. He can hear D-Day halt briefly when he finds it, but keeps on going. Locates the portal he guesses he's looking for and tries to open it; he panics briefly, thinking it's locked, before pushing rather than pulling--the door lets out a loud rusty groan of protest but nudges open, barely wide enough for him to squeeze out. Finds himself not outdoors, but in another tunnel, too dark to see; swallows down his rising anxiety, feels around, finds a corresponding portal just across from the first, and repeats the procedure. This door is even stickier than the other, and he batters it repeatedly with his shoulder before it pops open. He scrapes himself up rather badly crawling out as it's almost covered with thorny brush and weeds, plus his shoulder is throbbing by now, yet he makes it out, rolls down a short hillside, stumbles to his feet, and glances around. Nothing but woods, all around him. It's cloudy, so he can't tell which direction the sun is in. He takes a breath, picks a direction, and runs.
He doesn't stop until nightfall, and then only after he finds a small hollow to shelter in briefly. Here he strips out of his robe and undergarments and changes into the pajamas (he'd already put on the slippers), wincing and biting his tongue the entire time--he's just about sure he dislocated his shoulder. Still, there's no time to dwell on the pain; he conceals his discarded clothes, rests just long enough to catch his breath, then crawls out and goes running again, short sprints this time to try to conserve energy. He has no stars or anything else familiar by which to navigate, and just hopes that his luck holds and he finds his way back to his own side.
He has to hide again once or twice when he hears voices, determining that they're those of partisans who are likely to shoot him dead without a second thought. He starts swooning from pain, fatigue, and thirst, so that he ends up surprised by a man with a rifle who appears right in front of him, aiming between his eyes. Von Staden stumbles to a halt, gasping and shaking; he expects the partisan to finish him off, yet belatedly blinks and gets a better look at him. The gunman is alone but he's wearing fatigues and a field cap with the Wehrmachtsadler emblem on it--this is one of his own. The sniper looks surprised as well when von Staden tries to salute, exclaiming, "Mein Kamerad!" before collapsing. "My name is Adalard von Staden and I am an airman in the Luftwaffe," he says weakly when the sniper bends down to help him; "my plane was shot down and I was taken prisoner. Take me to the authorities so I may make a statement, bitte." He relaxes and tries to just let himself pass out, but the sniper lightly slaps his face a few times and something touches von Staden's mouth; realizing it's a canteen, he grasps hold of it and starts guzzling the water greedily. He gets a look at the sniper's name tag, is vaguely perplexed that it displays not a proper surname but the word RATTENHUND--Ratdog. "I think you need to see a doctor first," the sniper says, but von Staden shakes his head; he wants to make a statement, while the details are still fresh. They're in the middle of nowhere, and Ratdog has no radio; he pulls von Staden into the undergrowth, covers him with a blanket and tells him to stay put, and hurries off to find the nearest troop. Von Staden finally faints.
He groggily wakes to the faint voice of someone repeatedly calling, "Herr Obergefreiter? Herr von Staden." Drags his eyes open and blinks blearily, grimacing at the cottony feeling in his mouth and the floaty feeling in his head. His shoulder is still throbbing but it's an odd muted feeling he doesn't really care about. Someone in a uniform is standing at the foot of his bed...he's in a medical ward again. "Can you hear me, Herr von Staden...?" the man in uniform asks.
"Ja," von Staden mumbles; then, after being informed the morphine is likely what's making him feel funny, "I wished to make a statement," he complains, and names his commanding officer. "Who is this person?" the uniformed man asks; "He's my superior officer," von Staden says, "and I'd like to make my statement to him." "That's what I'm here for," the uniformed man replies; von Staden blinks again and squints harder until things come into focus. Then furrows his brow, confused. The man's uniform is the wrong color; he's obviously not with the Luftwaffe. There's a skull on his cap rather than a cockade and winged oak leaf wreath, the eagle is wrong, and he has the Sig runes on his collar. Von Staden stares at him for a perplexed moment. He can't think of why the Allgemeine-SS would want to talk to him, they aren't even military. Yet here one of them is, ready to take his statement. "Start at the beginning, bitte," he says; "Where did you crash, and what exactly happened...?"
Von Staden's nightmare officially begins. He outlines his experiences of the past few weeks in full detail (omitting only the empathy he felt for LC Doomsday), having no reason to lie about anything. Yet the SS officer starts asking odd questions that, while not ominous or threatening, make von Staden's unease grow. Why should there even be questions?--he told everything. The officer seems interested in his experience in Trench Rat custody; he was gone quite a while, why?--they wanted to let his injury heal, he replies. His shoulder, did they do that?--no, they didn't hurt him in the least. They interrogated him under pressure, surely?--no, they tried to ask questions but they weren't aggressive about it. He was intimidated or threatened at all?--no, they actually treated him quite well. The officer especially wants to know how he escaped, no Germans have ever escaped Trench Rat custody, how did he do it? Von Staden is reluctant to mention the very slight rapport he felt with D-Day, but otherwise tells the full truth, just as it happened. The officer just stares at him the entire time, and is silent for a while after he finishes. Von Staden fights not to fidget or ask questions himself, though by now he's burning to. Finally the SS officer says, "I notice in your file that you're not a registered member of the Party, is there any particular reason this is so...?" "I've never had any reason to," von Staden says, his confusion growing; "I've served the Reich faithfully, I've sworn allegiance to der Führer and the Fatherland, I've earned awards and commendations--I'm not sure what more I can do to prove my loyalty?" He expects that to be the end of it--he's been loyal and he's been honest--yet the SS officer just stares at him a moment more before saying, "We'll be in touch with you and your commanding officer soon. Feel better, but stay close to home for now, ja...?" and he leaves.
The entire experience has left a bad taste in von Staden's mouth, though he tries to put it out of his mind and get some rest. He's perplexed that his commanding officer never comes to speak with him, but figures the SS officer will tell him all he needs to know. He dozes fitfully and loses track of time, longing to get in a plane and see the sky again. Most of all, though, he misses his family.
A few days later, several SS men arrive and the officer instructs von Staden to get up from the bed. He obeys out of pure confusion; a nervous-looking nurse hands him some generic clothes which he's told to put on, and as he does so von Staden asks, "Where is my uniform--?" "You won't be needing it," the officer replies, and von Staden suddenly finds himself being cuffed and informed that he's being taken into custody for spying and treason against the Reich. "What--??" von Staden exclaims, and starts trying to protest, though the men grab his arms and bustle him out of the room and down the hospital hall. Doctors, nurses, assistants, other patients stand by and watch, dismayed and stunned looks on many faces, and he tries to appeal to a few of them, yet nobody dares intervene. "What did I do? What have I done--?" he cries in bewilderment as he's pulled out of the hospital and shoved into a truck, but nobody explains anything further; the truck door slams, the engine revs, it pulls away. Von Staden continues protesting for a few moments, gets no answers, falls silent at last...not because of the lack of answers, but because the truck is driving to the far end of the city, away from the Wehrmacht administrative building he should be reporting to. His stomach starts sinking though he isn't sure why.
The truck at last pulls to a stop. Everything else happens in such rapid-fire fashion that von Staden barely has time to protest further, though he's so stunned by now he nearly goes mute. There's no way any of this can be real, yet it is. He hadn't been able to get a good look out the window at where they are, but as soon as he's pulled out of the truck it becomes obvious. A gate with a guard station and the words ARBEIT MACHT FREI looms overhead. Von Staden is marched inside; the men with him briefly greet a scowling SS officer standing huddled in a greatcoat; he jerks his head and von Staden is shoved toward a building. He's told to strip out of the hospital clothes he just put on, is pushed into the building, and a shower head blasts him with cold water which makes him gasp and shudder; the minute he steps out, chattering, he's tossed striped clothes, told to dress, pushed into another building, has his photo taken, and a red triangle is affixed to his shirt. Back outside, he has a barracks building pointed out to him--"That's where you sleep tonight"--then is directed to a nearby guard overseeing a group of workers and told to fall in. Von Staden briefly glances at the other prisoners, who glance back with a mixture of dull curiosity and hostility--most are wearing yellow Judensterne, a few are wearing various colors of triangles--but he doesn't get to talk to anyone. The guard snaps an order and the others start to work, picking up and carrying away heavy stones; von Staden gasps when the guard thwacks him across the shoulders and barks, "Get a move on!" He scoops up as many of the stones as he can carry and hurries after the rest of his group.
Von Staden has heard of the camps--most citizens have, by now--though he's never been entirely sure what goes on in them. There are horror stories which he figured were somewhat exaggerated, yet even if they were entirely true, that was none of his business, had nothing to do with him. It's apparently his business, now. He quickly falls into the camp routine of rising before dawn, quickly using the toilets, going outside to get in formation, standing through the grueling roll call, getting his work assignment for the day, breaking for a brief watery meal, getting back to work, heading back to bed on a hard crowded bunk with nothing but his clothes and a threadbare blanket to keep him warm. He soon grows thin and glassy eyed from fatigue, hunger, and shock. Additionally, it's not just the guards he has to look out for; his fellow prisoners turn out to be even more of a threat. Of course the Jewish and Roma prisoners despise him for being a privileged Aryan, one of the same people who have victimized them; they get in shoves and hits and jabs at him whenever they can. Even worse, though, are the other German prisoners. Their risk of being outright killed by the guards is lower, so they're bolder in attacking him, and von Staden takes several brutal beatings--uselessly crying out, "I'm a German citizen!!" the entire time--before he at last snaps and hits back, knowing that if he doesn't start defending himself, nobody will. Every day is spent with his back to a figurative wall, not knowing who that day will try to target him; he becomes suspicious of everyone, rebuffing the few attempted kind gestures he's offered (including a guard's offer to send him to a slightly less strenuous job), and keeps completely to himself. He clings to the hope that this is some awful mistake--it has to be--and that soon it'll be set right--yet days and then weeks slip by, the situation not changing, and his hope begins to waver. Where is his CO, all the protest about such a travesty? Where is his family?
Unknown to von Staden, lots has been going on behind the scenes since he was taken into Trench Rat custody, most of it not good for him. His downed plane had been located not far from the abandoned village; nearby witnesses described seeing the hawks and the dogs heading in, marking an effort by the Trench Rats to find survivors. It's assumed that von Staden would have likewise headed into the village for medical attention, and was likely grabbed by the Rats. He confirms this upon his escape, but this just opens up a hundred more questions. Nobody else has ever escaped the Trench Rats; how did he manage? His assertion that the Rats treated him well, and had nothing to do with his injuries, only compounds matters. The SS promptly seizes control of the investigation from the Wehrmacht and starts digging. They track down Ratdog, the sniper who found von Staden in the woods, and question him; having no idea what's going on, and no reason to lie or suspect their motives, he answers honestly, though his corroboration of the details von Staden gives doesn't help the corporal's case any. They question von Staden's family--though without informing them that von Staden has been found and taken into custody--placing emphasis on checking their faithfulness to the Reich. Did von Staden ever show signs of disloyalty? Apathy? Did he ever speak against der Führer? Why did he never join the Party? Von Staden's peers in the Luftwaffe are similarly interrogated, again, without being told that he's in custody. For all that they're aware, he's still missing. The SS's questions perplex them but they answer the best they can, not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to end up on the wrong end of an interrogation themselves. Von Staden enters the camp system with no one but the SS being any the wiser. There's nobody out there who even thinks to look for him there. Nobody is coming to rescue him.
The months slog by, and von Staden slowly loses hope and goes numb, resigning himself to being a prisoner. He gets used to being referred to by a number and not a name; it isn't tattooed on his arm, that treatment is reserved for the Jews and Roma and Slavs, but it may as well be tattooed on his brain. He reaches a tense middle ground of knowing when to defend himself by fighting back and when to tuck his head down and just take the blows. He does his work without complaint, follows the routine, and speaks only when spoken to. He trusts nobody. And most of all, he doesn't hope, because he knows if he does it'll kill him.
As his luck would have it, it's a complete stranger, and a chance encounter, that ends up saving him. He and the rest of the prisoners are unexpectedly ordered to roll call one day; they drop what they're doing and hurry into the middle of the yard to get into rows. Von Staden stands waiting, not patiently as that implies a choice to wait impatiently, he just waits to be called. The commandant and guards don't seem to be interested in following through for some reason, everyone just stands there at attention as the commandant talks to a Wehrmacht captain, but nobody questions. Von Staden simply stands stiffly and waits to be either called or sent back to work. Then, suddenly, somebody walking by halts in front of him and stares at him. "Excuse me," he says softly; not expecting to be spoken to, von Staden shifts his eyes slightly to look at him. The man is dressed in civilian clothes, is somewhat glassy eyed, and trembles as if he doesn't even notice he's doing it; von Staden recognizes the signs of combat fatigue although he never experienced it himself. This is an older man, though, so he knows they never served together. For the first time in a long time, he feels a twinge of confusion--is this person actually talking to him?--why? He peers at the prisoner to his side, but he's looking straight ahead; peers back at the stranger and sees he's still looking at him; then resumes staring ahead, himself. There's no reason for anyone to talk to him, so he figures he's misunderstood. Then the stranger says, "Ja, you, with the red badge. Could you tell me your name...?"
Adalard von Staden meets Vischer, a Great War veteran who just happens to be taking a tour of the camp with his companion, Captain Harald Altermann. Vischer is secretly in contact with the Trench Rats. He's heard of the Luftwaffe ace, a young Junker, who was polite and well behaved yet escaped their custody, much to their consternation, without answering any of their questions. And now here he comes across a German "traitor and deserter" with a Junker name, in a concentration camp. Vischer takes a big risk asking for Altermann's aid in confirming von Staden's identity and getting him out of there, because they know that he's still officially missing, he was never court-martialed, and he definitely has no business being in a camp, wearing the badge of a traitor. Altermann takes a risk of his own and pulls a few strings. The Wehrmacht contacts the SS and presses a little harder than they normally would. After some nagging, then haggling, an officer heads to the camp with a brusque letter in hand, requesting von Staden's immediate release into his custody. A mistake was made, they need to correct it.
The commandant reads through the letter with growing alarm. "A mistake--?" he demands, voice rising. "This is what you call a mistake??" The Allgemeine-SS officer requests him to keep a civil tone; "Civil tone!" the commandant barks, shakes a fist wordlessly, then orders his adjutant to accompany them to his office. Shuts the door, and promptly lays into the other officer. He's PISSED that something like this could've happened, especially coming from an organization that regularly practices such strict oversight--how did this even happen? He doesn't care too much about von Staden himself; it's the way this incident may taint his reputation and the reputation of his camp that truly infuriates him. "Best pray Herr von Staden and his family don't come gunning for you and yours once this is resolved," he threatens, "honestly, if you were not SS, I'd be coming for you myself!" His adjutant says, "I'll fetch Herr von Staden and get the process started for his release," and turns to go; "IMMEDIATE release," the commandant clarifies, and adds, "Make sure you get him cleaned up. Fetch him a new uniform. Make him at least halfway presentable for his family--Gott knows we're going to have more than enough hassle to deal with aside from this!"
Von Staden has already brushed off his brief interaction with Vischer--of course his pathetic attempt would go nowhere, he doesn't even feel discouraged about it--and is busy breaking rocks in the yard. The adjutant approaches, calls, "Herr von Staden." Pauses, but von Staden ignores him, just keeps on working. The adjutant frowns, starts, "Herr von--" then cuts himself off with a shake of his head--stupid, of course he wouldn't respond, prisoners leave their names at the gate--and calls out his ID number instead. Von Staden halts his work, removes his cap, snaps to attention. The adjutant gestures--"Follow"--so he does so. He's brought to the showers, told to strip and go in; he starts shaking but obeys, pretty sure he's about to die as he peers up at the shower head which rattles and bangs before something sprays out of it in a blast--he gasps at the shock of cold water, that's all it is, and shoves down his terror and confusion, scrubbing at himself as quickly as he can and chattering like crazy. He exits, is tossed a threadbare towel to dry off with--that's different, usually they just re-dress themselves while still wet--then is given a fresh set of clothes, not his striped ones, but a Luftwaffe uniform. Now he's beyond bewildered--WTF's going on?--yet bites his tongue, you don't ever question the guards, and puts it on. It's his size--but it's too big for him. The adjutant whistles through his teeth at von Staden's emaciated sorry figure but there's nothing to be done for it; he gives von Staden his cap (which he clasps to his chest, not putting it on--you never wear your cap when addressing a guard) and gestures. "Follow."
While this has been happening, the commandant has called the von Staden home and let them know they have von Staden in their custody and will be releasing him immediately--"A dreadful mistake, most dreadful, I can't apologize enough, I assure you some heads will roll for this outrage." He instructs the von Stadens to head to the railway station where they'll soon be reunited with their son. To his immense relief, they don't barrage him with furious questions, instead hanging up promptly to follow his advice. The adjutant arrives with von Staden, who looks utterly pathetic in his baggy uniform, grasps his hand, and pumps it up and down so hard von Staden nearly stumbles. Again apologizes profusely for the "most outrageous oversight, someone will pay, I assure you"--and tells the adjutant to drive him to the railway station. Collapses in his chair with a gusty breath and puts his hands to his face. "What a f**king mess," he moans...then pulls out some official letterhead and starts writing, making haste to ensure this incident is kept as quiet as possible.
Von Staden looks up at the ARBEIT MACHT FREI sign as the SS car drives him out of the gate. Stares glassy eyed out the window as the city rushes by. He hasn't seen the outside world in months. The seasons have changed, the clothing has changed, the newspaper headlines have changed; he feels like he's in a foreign country and can't connect to anything he's seeing. It feels like he's been in the camp for years, yet also like his life was paused while the rest of the world moved on. He's numb and has no idea what to think. They arrive at the railway station and the adjutant helps him exit the car; he looks around, blinking, before noticing someone hesitantly approaching from a small group of people--an older woman, her eyes wide and her hands over her mouth. He just stares at her as she lets out a soft whimpering sound--"Adalard...?" The fuzziness abruptly clears from his head--"Mutter...?" he says faintly. And then her arms are around him and she's hugging him tight--"My boy, my baby boy!"--then his father is there--"My poor son," he says through his tears--and then he sees his sister, Constanze, standing nearby, her lip trembling a little but her face otherwise composed; when his parents let him go she steps forward and hesitates only a second before hugging him. "Welcome home, Adalard," she whispers.
They get on the train. Von Staden stares out the window. Jumps when his mother touches his arm, suggests he take a nap. He tries to doze. They reach the station, get in their car; again he stares out the window, sees the big family estate, the sky overhead. Inside, Frau von Staden fusses over the huge dinner she's having made, all his favorites, he must be starving. Constanze protests: "Mama, don't overdo it! Slow! You don't want to make him sick." Herr von Staden agrees, yet his mother insists. Constanze leads von Staden to his room, suggests he wash up, and she'll fetch him some clothes. He can't bear to use the shower again, so just washes himself at the sink. Puts on his new clothes. Constanze says he can rest again until dinner when she'll come wake him; she pauses, then hugs him again, wordlessly. Von Staden raises his arms, hesitantly hugs her back.
He can't fall asleep, just lies in bed staring at the canopy. Constanze arrives to take him to the dining room. The table is practically groaning with food, all his favorites just as promised; "Mama," Constanze rebukes, "why so much food! I said don't overdo it!" "Look at him, he's skin and bone," Frau von Staden insists, eyes welling up--"How could he not want to eat?" Strangely, von Staden really ISN'T hungry...he thought he would be, considering how painfully little food he received in the camp, yet now that he's presented with this veritable smorgasbord, his empty stomach twists and he has to swallow down his nausea. His mother coaxes him to eat, so he tries. His parents chatter, regular gossip like everything is right in the world; Constanze speaks up only when directly addressed, casting furtive looks at her brother as he gingerly bites at his food. "Go on, Liebe, you've hardly touched anything," Frau von Staden says, and he eats a bit faster. His head starts swimming as his parents and then Constanze begin to quietly argue, Frau von Staden saying they need to accept the SS's apology and move on, Constanze retorting that they're owed far more than that, Herr von Staden asking them both to calm down for Adalard's sake, Constanze reiterating that they're being lied to about something, Frau von Staden insisting you do not question the SS and why would they lie about this anyway, and then von Staden jerks to the side and throws up on the floor.
The other three flinch back in surprise--Constanze stands and comes to his side, while his father exclaims, "Adalard--? Are you all right?" and Frau von Staden calls for the maid. "Apologies," von Staden says as if reciting a script, "I'll clean it up. Apologies," and shakily stands. He always cleaned up his own messes in the camp, or else he'd get a stick across his shoulders. "It's all right!" Frau von Staden exclaims. "It's all right, the maid will clean it up," and "Sit a moment," Constanze murmurs, "you're eating too fast, you have to get used to it--I told you, Mama, I warned you it was too much," and "I'll fetch some ginger ale and crackers," Herr von Staden says, "that should help settle you down," and leaves. "Put them on a tray, bitte," Constanze says, "I'm taking him back to his room. Come on, Adalard," she coaxes, and he allows himself to be led away. Sits with him for a while, rubbing his wrists as he sits and shivers. "You want a hot bath...?" she asks, but he doesn't answer, he doesn't remember how to make a choice for himself. Herr von Staden brings by the tray and Constanze pours her brother a glass of ginger ale; "Here, you at least have to drink," and he manages a few sips. "Try to finish the glass," she says; "don't even think about the crackers right now, unless you want them. I imagine it's going to take you a while to get used to things again." He again apologizes for throwing up; she shakes her head: "Next time it happens, just leave it and call a maid, bitte--she'll clean it up." She moves close, grasps his shoulders so he looks at her. "You don't have to follow orders or be beaten anymore," she says in a firm voice; when he says nothing, she adds, "I know it must've happened. You don't have to worry about it anymore. It's over. You're home." She tells him to get some sleep and she'll fetch him in the morning. On her way out the door von Staden manages a faint "D...danke."
He again sleeps only fitfully. Wakes before dawn, stares confused at the canopy, decides to get up. As soon as he does, however, he collapses with a yelp. Constanze hurries in the door with a lamp in hand as von Staden clings to the bedpost, blinking and gasping. "My legs," he exclaims; "Can you feel them--?" Constanze asks, and he says, "Feel them--ja--but they aren't working. What's wrong with my legs?" She grabs hold of his waist and helps him to a chair, where he sits and rubs at them for a few moments; they positively throb, so he knows paralysis isn't the issue, but he's still confused. Constanze theorizes that exhaustion is catching up with him now that he has the chance to rest: "You were running on fumes," she asserts when he asks why didn't this happen sooner. His brain has normalized pain, so it takes a few moments for him to realize his muscles are cramping; they slowly loosen up and he's able to move his feet and knees; Constanze helps him stand again, and keeps hold of his arm as he takes a few tentative steps around his room. "Why are you awake so early?" she asks; "We always wake before dawn," he says, "or else we're disciplined." And quite belatedly he understands why he was so confused; he'd expected to wake on a cold cramped bunk next to other prisoners, not here. He blinks at his surroundings as the adrenaline wears off.
Constanze urges him to sleep a bit longer, but he doesn't think he can. "I'll draw you a hot bath," she suggests, and once it's done leaves him to sit in the steaming water for a while. It feels good, the best thing he's felt in who knows how long, but he barely notices. He stares mutely across the room and keeps imagining himself breaking rocks. Constanze comes back to wake him a couple of hours later when the water has gone cold, yet sleep and waking feel much the same, every time he shuts his eyes or stops thinking, he's back in the camp. She gives him a towel to wrap around himself, helps him dry off and dress--he's too numb to feel embarrassed--and leads him to breakfast. Frau von Staden meekly offers him dry toast and apple juice. He manages to keep it down.
The next several weeks are a tedious process of slowly getting used to being home. His first weeks in the camp, the prospect had consumed him, was all he could think of; now that he's finally free, he's consumed by thoughts of being back in camp. He's used to routine, to being told what to do; choices make him freeze. When presented with options, he never responds, because he can't remember how; Constanze gently rephrases questions to try to simplify them, then often answers for him after observing his reactions. It's almost like she translates between him and the normal world. He very gradually starts responding to simple choices, though he always adds a hasty mumbled "If possible, bitte, danke," at the end, to counteract the sharp stick-blow he always expects for being so presumptuous. No blows ever come, though; not even angry retorts. Von Staden starts eating a bit more and starts putting on weight. He starts sitting and standing up a bit straighter and making eye contact. His tremor and his repeated apologies fade. He sleeps later and starts choosing things without being asked. He politely responds to conversation again. He never returns to 100%...he's distinctly different from the young free-spirited idealist who flew off on a mission that one day. He remains largely withdrawn and quiet and glassy eyed like the man who visited him in the camp, but his parents seem pleased with the improvement. He supposes that's good enough even if he still isn't sure what to do with himself; he's been placed on indefinite leave from the Luftwaffe, as he's obviously in no shape to go on missions. He spends all his time at home, which normally would agonize him with boredom, yet he's still too numb to be bothered.
And then, one day, as he passes by the parlor he hears soft talking and laughter. Constanze is having a conversation with somebody whose voice he doesn't recognize. He peers into the room to see her sitting on the couch, smiling at a young man who smiles back as he holds her hands. The man is wearing a black uniform; his cap with the little silver skull sits on the table. Von Staden blinks. And instantly, the numbness disappears--rage--pure, consuming, white-hot rage--taking its place. He doesn't imagine the stick slamming down across his shoulders, the automatic ja bitte danke apologies Mein Herr--he imagines wrapping his hands around the officer's neck and squeezing until his eyes go dead. He has to step away from the parlor before he can act, though when he gets back to his room he breaks all of the glass objects on a table and then upends the table itself for good measure--smashes the vanity mirror with his bare hands--then makes himself sit down to take some breaths (after rending apart the pillows that had been on the chair previously), though his fingers dig into his palms hard enough to draw blood and his whole body thrums like a live wire. He thinks about looking for his gun.
Constanze arrives shortly after: "Adalard? I heard glass..." She trails off and stares at the state of his room. "What..." Then looks at him and sees the expression on his face. "Adalard...?" She takes a step toward him, seems hesitant. "What is it? What happened?"
Von Staden: "That man you were with."
Constanze: "Man--?"
Von Staden: "In the parlor. That SS man."
Constanze: "You saw that?"
Von Staden: "How long have you been seeing him?"
Constanze: "That's rather a private matter."
Von Staden: "You bring him in this house, it's not so private anymore."
Constanze: "I wouldn't ask you about it if you brought someone home."
Von Staden: *losing his temper, hissing furiously & clenching his fists* "Do you see me ever bringing anyone home--?" *takes a breath* "I'm never going to bring someone home. Never going to sit and laugh and hold hands and start a family. They took that from me. Do Mutter and Vater know--?"
Constanze: *hesitates* "What does it matter what they know? It's my choice who I see, not theirs."
Von Staden: "'Choice.'" *they stare at each other* "Good to know he lets you have one." *stands up* "I'd like you to go now. While I still have the choice to ask you."
Constanze: "Adalard..."
Von Staden: "Go on. Go away. Bitte."
Constanze: "He isn't one of them, from the camp. He hasn't done anything to you--"
Von Staden: *clenching fists & yelling* "THEY'RE EVEN WORSE! The guards are bad enough but you know what to expect! At least they come at you with clubs! With guns! THESE ones--" *points toward parlor* "THESE ones are the ones who truly ruin lives! Sitting behind desks! Never firing a gun! A rubber stamp and a pen! A rubber stamp and a pen send far more people to the gas than a stick or a gun does. A signature on a paper and a chimney is full of smoke. He doesn't even have to fire one bullet. No trial. Doesn't even need to look his victim in the eye. Sign and stamp. Train. Gas. Oven. Ash. A colored badge only if you're lucky--a slower death. Go ahead...ask him how many lives he's ruined, how many he's killed, sitting behind a desk. Should make for good conversation."
*long silence*
Constanze: *quietly* "You saw all this...?"
Von Staden: "It used to be I did not have to see for you to believe me. But go ahead. Believe what you like. And leave me alone, bitte. We have nothing more to say to each other."
He turns his back, so Constanze leaves. He'd been starting to trust her--he has no one else to talk to, he feels his parents won't understand--but that's shattered in an instant. And the numb haze is gone with it. He no longer drifts aimlessly about the house and stares off into space; he seethes with fury, pacing the halls in a futile effort to burn it off, doing everything he can not to destroy anything he comes across. He doesn't talk to Constanze anymore, except a terse word or two as necessary at the table; their parents are perplexed, sensing the tension simmering between them, yet say nothing about it. He has thoughts of what he'll do if and when he's allowed back into active service; he has dark thoughts, treasonous thoughts, of strafing Allgemeine-SS headquarters rather than engaging in dogfights. Then again, part of him reasons, he's already been punished for being a traitor...why not follow through with the actual crime?
He has no intentions of acting on such thoughts, though they help soothe his spite a little bit. It always flares up again the moment he sees Constanze, who keeps hinting she wants to talk to him, though he does a good job of leaving the room and keeping separate from her. Frau von Staden tries a couple of times to get them to talk but he declines. Oddly, he never sees the SS officer again, though he figures this is just Constanze's effort to get on his good side. He's allowed back to work, though spends most of his time behind a desk--even though he knows now exactly what kind of havoc can be wrought from such a position, he behaves himself. He tracks down and goes to visit Vischer, the man whose actions ended up getting him out of the camp, so he can thank him; there he also meets Captain Altermann, who acted on Vischer's request to free him. He can tell Vischer understands, even if only somewhat, what he's going through, and asks if the anger ever goes away; Vischer replies that it might always be with him, but now he has a choice how to act on it: "They can't take that away from you anymore." On his way out, Altermann asks for a word in private. Von Staden had mentioned that he felt like he owed them a debt; if he means it, then Altermann could use a favor: "I don't have anything in mind just yet, but there might come a time when I need your help." Von Staden readily promises his assistance, any assistance, whenever he should require it; his gratitude to them is such that he doesn't ask any questions. Whatever it is, he'll do it.
Constanze finally attempts to confront her brother one day; he tries to avoid her, not liking to think of what he might do if he gets angry enough, but she follows him to his room. They argue briefly, von Staden again bringing up the SS man, Constanze again seeming to defend him, and again von Staden insists he's as much a part of the problem as any camp guard--"You don't understand, you'll never understand, what that was like, to be punished for something you never did. Or to be punished for absolutely nothing at all!" For, as much as his red badge chafed him...at least it was a charge that made sense. He never really understood why a Jew needed a yellow star or a Zigeuner needed a black triangle when all they'd done was exist. He hasn't consumed all the propaganda the Party puts out, so it never occurred to him to think about it too much, one way or the other; his time in the camp gave him a good look at things. Even with his status as a traitor, he was never treated quite as poorly as the non-Aryans, and he got to see exactly what they were put through, and who most often was sent to the room with the fake showers. Fuming, he turns his back on Constanze--"I thought once that we knew each other, I guess it took being in that hellhole to prove me wrong--now go away--I don't have anything else to say to you"--and retreats to his bed, lying down facing away from her. The room is silent for a moment before he hears footsteps then hears the bed creak--Constanze lies down on the other side of the bed behind him. Von Staden clenches his fists and grinds his teeth hard enough to hurt.
Constanze: *long silence* *quietly* "I don't love him."
Von Staden: *halfhearted snort*
*long silence*
Constanze: "...I hate him, and his, for what they did to you."
Von Staden: *furrows brow* *pauses, then pushes himself up & turns to look at Constanze, who does the same* "What are you talking about...?"
Constanze: "They told us you were still missing. When they came to question us, about your loyalty, about our loyalty to the Reich. They never told us they'd found you. I knew they were lying about something. Knew they wouldn't be asking those questions unless they knew where you were." *pause; swallows, lowers voice* "I didn't know where you were. If I had, I would've yelled it from the rooftops, to get you out of there. But even I didn't think they'd go that far, do something like that to someone like you."
Von Staden: *pause; quieter* "What do you mean?"
Constanze: *moves closer; nearly whispering* "Almost everyone's heard the rumors about those places, what really goes on. Mama knows, but doesn't want to believe. Papa believes, but doesn't want to know. You, you confirmed it. The last time we talked."
Von Staden: "Confirmed what?"
Constanze: "The stories they tell. The trains, the gas, the chimneys. Tell me, were there shower rooms...? Shower rooms that weren't shower rooms. Were there men who carried away the dead and then they disappeared, too...?"
Von Staden: *long silence* *whispering* "How do you know about that...?"
Constanze: "You confirmed all the rest, this is true too, ja? So you've seen it. They tried to make it seem like it's not so bad and like whoever is there, deserves to be there. Yet you! You never deserved to be there, not even by their laws, and that's why they're trying so hard to pretend like it never happened. They're not investigating how you ended up there, they're trying to cover it up. Because they have excuses for everything else but not for this. You, you were there, you know you did nothing to deserve it, and I can tell you know nobody else there deserved it, either. Ja...? I'm right...?"
Von Staden: *silence*
Constanze: "I can tell from the look on your face that I'm right. Before this you didn't have an ounce of hate in your heart. You don't have any for them. You know they belong there just as little as you do." *pause* "I wanted to get information. Information on you at first, though after you came back, still, information on what's happening in those places. I didn't know how. I didn't have any connections, I don't know who I can trust. I thought, maybe if I can get one of them to like me. It's not such a big price to smile and flirt a little, if it helps me find you and helps me find out what's going on."
Von Staden: *blinks* "What--?" *under his breath* "What are you thinking--?? Are you mad? Information? Flirting! You have no idea what these people are capable of--!"
Constanze: "I have EVERY idea! They took you away! When all you did was serve the Fatherland like you promised!"
Von Staden: "This wasn't your place to do! What if they'd suspected? You could have put Mutter and Vater in danger as well as yourself!"
Constanze: "Stop acting like I'm a baby! I'm older than you! You honestly think I don't know how to look after myself--? No one else was doing anything. I thought you MIGHT be a little more grateful!"
Von Staden: "Not if you end up getting yourself caught or killed!"
Constanze: *scoffing* "Bitte! It's not even like I'm all on my own! I have connections now too, you know!"
Von Staden: *confused* "What...?"
The two of them huddling head to head like they once did as children, Constanze finally tells him: She's working with the resistance. They started watching her shortly after she first smiled and batted her eyes at an SS officer and he responded--though she had no idea at first. It was only after they'd parted ways one afternoon at an outdoor cafe and she'd retreated to an alley to smoke a cigarette--hands shaking so much she couldn't strike a match--that they'd tipped her off. She'd jumped a little when somebody offered a lighter--she blinked at the woman holding it out to her, stylish and sophisticated and definitely a product of the city rather than the country. She even wore makeup, something frowned upon by the Reich. Constanze held out her cigarette to let the woman light it for her and took a long drag before the woman said, "Looks like you couldn't bear another moment in his company, Liebe." "That obvious?" Constanze muttered, to which the woman had snapped the lighter shut, paused briefly, then said, "If you insist on going through with this foolishness, perhaps I could give you a few tips, for your brother's sake. That is why you're doing this, ja...?"
The woman works for the Diamond Network, a resistance movement that the SS has declared a terrorist organization. Von Staden has dimly heard of them, but never paid much attention. They've been interested in him, though. While the SS was busy covering things up, the Network was busy trying to dig things up; they know von Staden was briefly in Trench Rat hands before disappearing. Now, here was the SS showing inordinate interest in his family. They'd suspected that von Staden had been found and taken into custody and something about this had triggered an investigation. Like the SS, they have ways to find personal information that the average citizen has no access to, and everything they found pointed toward von Staden being a loyal German citizen. Suspecting a smear campaign and coverup was in progress, they began spying on the von Stadens themselves. Constanze's sudden interest in dating an SS man raised a flag that she was trying to gather information as well; after seeing her obvious distaste, the Network operative currently watching her decided to make a move. Constanze has been effectively recruited by the resistance, and now that von Staden is back home--and very plainly pissed off by his experience--she wants to recruit him, too.
Von Staden is shocked and dismayed to learn of his sister's actions; he worries that she'll end up imprisoned "Or worse," and doesn't think such work is the place of a woman; and even though Constanze retorts that she can handle herself just fine, still, the situation doesn't sit quite right with him. Despite his horrible mistreatment, he still feels loyalty to the Wehrmacht and the Reich; it's the Nazi Party, and the SS specifically, that has sparked his ire. They're all hopelessly intertwined, and while he thinks nothing of messing with the Schutzstaffel, he really doesn't wish to be a traitor or to be removed from his beloved Luftwaffe. Result, it takes a lot of coaxing and convincing on Constanze's part to turn him, and even then he's terribly reluctant to commit. He doesn't want to do anything that directly conflicts with his military duties, or that could endanger his fellow soldiers and airmen. Constanze suggests that, rather than actively fight, he be a messenger or courier. He already has the perfect means to assist them: His airplane. Von Staden is still hesitant, but Constanze slowly brings him around; as a simple go-between, his actions won't directly endanger anyone else, he has no reason to directly interact with the enemy, and although under German law it's still considered treason, "They already consider you a traitor, and they've already punished you for it," she says; "how much worse is this? And remember all those others who never once betrayed our country, who are still in there, and have nobody to fight for them to be freed. If you could help them, would you...? Remember how you felt, waking up every morning with that red badge on your chest, going to sleep with it at night. How easy it was to earn it and how hard to have it removed."
And there, that appeal to von Staden's fury--all that seething, bottomless rage without an outlet--that's what turns him. He accepts his first mission, delivering medical supplies to a group of partisans located in the countryside; he buzzes the treeline in his plane, ejecting several boxes with small parachutes attached, then heads back to his regular route. It takes mere moments, yet he has to take a few deep breaths to steady his rattled nerves as he flies back; he knows all the tricks, how to evade detection and make up for lost time, but his heart is pounding and his throat is dry anyway. He goes about the rest of his duties without a peep. The partisans, meanwhile, are beyond confused at first, for a fighter plane to buzz them before dropping what looks like cargo and then flying away; they cautiously approach the nearest box, gingerly poking at it with their guns, putting their ears to it to listen for any suspicious noises, before finally prying it open. And exclaim with surprise at the contents--bandages, plasters, stitches, antibiotics, alcohol, medicines, vitamins, ointments--they hurry to track down the other boxes (one needs to be pulled down from a tree) and find even more supplies. They'd been informed they would soon get a delivery; they had no idea the Luftwaffe would be bringing it.
It's a few days before the word gets to Constanze of the successful delivery, and she lets von Staden know by giving him a big hug when he returns home for the day; "What is it--?" he exclaims, to which she excitedly replies, "You did it! It got through. I told you you could handle it. You've done excellently, kleiner Bruder!" Von Staden has to sit and have a stiff drink; he'd been wound up the entire time, not knowing if the mission had succeeded, and now that he knows it did, he really needs a rest. "I'm not sure about this," he mumbles, feeling nauseated; Constanze rubs his shoulder and reassures him that he always has the option to back out--"It's your choice, I won't ever hold it against you"--yet she also throws in a small mention of the SS, and sees von Staden's eyes darken and his fingers curl. He swallows down his nausea. A couple of days later he again buzzes partisan territory, this time to drop a parcel of personal communications. They learn to identify his plane so they don't accidentally shoot it down, though they do take a few shots to make things look less suspicious to any observers.
So this is the state of affairs that continues throughout the war: The Diamond Network hands over the necessary items for transport to Constanze, Constanze passes these and the mission info along to her brother, and von Staden delivers the items via an airdrop. After a few missions he instructs his sister to keep him in the dark regarding what exactly he's delivering--"The time and the place is all I need to know." Constanze knows that in the event of him needing to deliver weapons, he'd rather not be involved; so being ignorant of what he's dropping off means the possibility of running more missions. They space out the deliveries and the times to coincide with times and locations when he's expected to be in flight--he never takes his plane out unplanned--so nobody ever thinks to question why he was there or what he was doing. He's skilled at making quick detours when needed, dropping off, and returning to his route with minimal disruption, and the Luftwaffe accepts whatever excuses he comes up with when needed. "Go figure," he grouses to Constanze after she brings him a drink one evening (von Staden's never been a big drinker, yet needs one to settle his rattled nerves after every mission), "when I'd done absolutely nothing they put me in a camp, yet when I'm running enemy missions right under their noses they don't even say a peep!" He never gets comfortable with the thought of what he's doing--it always feels wrong to act subversively against the government--yet his fury toward the SS overrides his unease, and Constanze's encouragement, including rare news about the ways in which his actions may have aided their other victims, keeps him going.
One day, von Staden receives a telephone call at home--it's Captain Altermann, the Wehrmacht official who, along with Vischer, helped launch the investigation that got him out of the camp. "I'm heading out to Herr Vischer's place," he says in a subdued yet urgent tone, "and I have reason to believe we're going to be dealing with some disagreeable Party members." "SS...?" von Staden asks; "Nein, not SS," Altermann clarifies, "which is why I'm a bit reluctant to ask for your help...yet I'm pretty sure they're with the Party else they wouldn't be interested in us. I'm not sure what they plan to do, but Herr Vischer's out there on his own. You said you felt you owe us a debt...? You don't have to come, and I won't hold it over your head. But if you're on board, I could really use an extra hand right now." Von Staden promises to meet him at Vischer's house, though it'll take him a bit to get there; "Drive as fast as you can," Altermann urges, "and don't even bother to knock!--just let yourself in!" Von Staden wishes he could inform Constanze of where he's headed, yet she's gone at the moment, presumably communicating with the Network--the Allies are said to be close to the city, and order is rapidly breaking down, even way out here in the countryside--so he jots down a quick note to her and his parents, grabs his pistol, hurries out to the car, and speeds off.
What happens next is covered here.
Von Staden chafes at the thought of being taken into custody again, yet the situation has obviously taken a turn--Altermann mentions how the SS has attempted to implement martial law in the city, with mixed results, as word reached them of the Allies' approach. Nobody is sure WHICH Allies--it could be the Americans, though the Red Army is more likely--and Altermann and von Staden don't like the thought of what could happen if they fall into Soviet hands. The Trench Rats promise their protection, and Vischer trusts them, so the other two go along. Altermann is badly wounded and requires medical care; von Staden, suffering only minor injuries, accompanies him. Feeling rather listless and extraneous, and wishing to distract himself from his worries about Constanze, he gestures at the nurse and summons up what limited English he knows: "Have medical...training? Ein bisschen...small medical training. Ich würde gerne helfen...helfen...help? Would like to help. Bitte." The nurse, obviously frazzled, admits they could use the assistance; she uncuffs von Staden from his bed and says, "Scrub in...you know what that means, yes...?" "'Scrub in,'" von Staden echoes; then, "Ja," and he hurries to the sinks. He spends the rest of the evening helping Nurse Skye tend to the various injured Rats and partisans who pass through the ward; it's hectic, bloody work, yet he handles it like a pro, without complaint, and the process moves along much quicker than it otherwise would.
Not long after, a Trench Rat enters and asks his name; upon being told, he says another von Staden, a young woman, has been taken into custody along with a group of resistance members; "Constanze--?" von Staden exclaims; "May see?--bitte?--is Schwester. Ich vermisse sie so sehr!" Constanze is accordingly brought to the medical ward where brother and sister throw their arms around each other and kiss each other's forehead, exclaiming aloud. ("This is the one with the plane--?" another resistance member who's been brought in to have his wounds tended to asks one of the Rats; "Ein Verrückter! You never saw such a thing.") Constanze explains how she had to take shelter with the others as it was too unsafe to head out on her own; they were found by the Trench Rats and brought to Headquarters to make sure no Nazis were hiding among them. "This man then comes and says, 'Your name is von Staden? I believe we have a von Staden here already, in the medical ward.' I was so afraid! Afraid you were hurt, or worse! And it turns out you're helping stitch up everyone else's wounds--of course!" Von Staden rebukes her for endangering herself by taking shelter with the resistance, to which she retorts, "Take a look at you, you're a prisoner of war! Again!" Which he really can't deny. She unfortunately has no idea where their parents are; they'd been in the city, and now they're missing: "We're going to have to find them." "We have each other till then," von Staden says, and though the Rats cuff him back to his bed ("It's not so bad," he reassures his sister when she bristles at this), Constanze is allowed to stay with him, while Altermann and Vischer doze nearby.
They remain with the Rats for a while; von Staden eventually has his cuff removed, once more details are provided regarding his role in Vischer ending up among them (Vischer had aided the Trench Rats himself), and when it becomes clear he won't be returning to the Luftwaffe. The von Stadens and Altermann listen as the new Trench Rat sergeant, Gold, fills them in on the situation (Altermann translating for the other two): "The Reich has fallen," Altermann says, subdued; "the city is under Allied control and der Führer has taken his own life. Soon there will be no Wehrmacht for us to return to." He asks Gold about the von Stadens' parents, but Gold has no answers; he does provide a detail that seems to give Altermann a bit of hope, and he turns to the other two. "He says it was the Americans who took the city--Gott sei Dank! I dread to think if it had been the Red Army. Your parents stand a chance, at least. Hold up your heads and hold hope you'll find them well, I'll hope along with you."
American military officials arrive to question Altermann and von Staden. Constanze again flares with indignation--"My brother is not a Nazi!"--but oddly, for once he's the one to try to calm her down: "They're doing their job, better to ask me some questions than to let a criminal go. I can handle it, I've handled worse." Frankly, by now he's just exhausted and is running on fumes again. The army officials don't trust Altermann to do the translation, so someone else is brought over to handle it: Doomsday Rat. Von Staden perks up a little on seeing him again, though he refrains from pestering him with questions. D-Day translates the military official's questions and von Staden's answers; it soon becomes clear they're concerned about his loyalty to the Reich. Von Staden tries hard to hold his temper as he replies, "I am and will always be devoted to the Fatherland, mein Heimatland, until the day I die. As for the Nazis, I spit on them. The two are not the same. I don't know how I can explain to an American." "I understand Heimatland," D-Day says, "I'll explain," and he does so. The military officials seem skeptical, yet some further comments from him, Altermann and Vischer, and others in the hospital ward soon appear to convince them that the von Stadens have no direct ties to the Nazis. The resistance member who had called von Staden a madman appeals to them especially, describing how he'd delivered supplies with his fighter plane. "That was this guy...?" the official asks D-Day; turns out stories about von Staden's exploits had even reached past enemy lines. They tell the von Stadens not to go far for the time being, but they're effectively cleared and free to leave. Von Staden offers his hand to D-Day.
Von Staden: "You've been far more civil to me than is warranted, Herr Doomsday. Danke sehr."
D-Day: *shakes his hand* "Just D-Day, please."
Von Staden: *slowly, with an American pronunciation* "'Dee Day.' This has a meaning...? Personally?"
D-Day: "Not so much a personal meaning, no. I just prefer it over Doomsday."
Von Staden: "Do you mind me asking why...?"
D-Day: *pause* "Doomsday's the name of something that hurt countless people. People who didn't deserve such pain. I'll always be connected to it, but I'd like to keep as much distance as I can." *pause* "I'm not sure if I can explain it properly."
Von Staden: "Nein...you've explained it perfectly. I apologize, Herr D-Day."
Altermann and Vischer wish the von Stadens farewell--"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," Altermann reassures them, though von Staden makes sure to appeal to the Americans on his behalf--and the two head back home. They wander the empty house (all the staff have been dismissed) disconsolately. "I hope they're all right," Constanze murmurs, "wherever they are." "We should try to stay in touch with those Rats," von Staden muses, "in case they find anything out." He disappears upstairs for a while--Constanze can hear him banging around in the attic--before bringing something back downstairs: A portable radiotelegraph machine. "Maybe this will be more useful than a telephone," he suggests as he checks it over and then sets about getting it up and working. Constanze is skeptical, especially when no one answers the first tentative messages he sends out, yet leaves him to it as she prepares them something to eat. They sit in the dim parlor and eat their simple dinner in silence, contemplating this strange new world they've been thrust into.
After a few days of sending messages, von Staden receives a reply. Constanze hovers nearby as he hurriedly transcribes. Someone claiming to be a former member of the Wehrmacht tells him that many German citizens from the city have been detained by the Allied forces to try to root out any Nazis--apparently, some members of the SS tried to escape detection by blending in with the local population. The von Stadens were almost certainly caught up in the sweep, as the person on the other end says he heard von Staden's earlier messages and checked with what sources he could get to respond; it's not 100% certain if they're still there, but he's fairly certain someone with that name was listed among the detainees. If they can get into the city, they might find their parents. Von Staden asks the name of who he's corresponding with and is told simply ADEL. Adel, whoever he is, wishes him luck.
Von Staden and Constanze head to the city. They're faced with multiple questions, checkpoints, and language barriers; von Staden repeats his name and "Mutter" and "Vater" multiple times in hopes of being understood. The Americans finally seem to get the point, but as an interpreter tells it when he arrives, they aren't sure that they can help; they can't confirm von Staden's identity, and the two of them forgot to bring their papers. Frustrated, von Staden starts to lose his temper and argue with them as Constanze tries to convince him to calm down and they'll just return home to fetch their IDs; "It took us over an hour to get here!" von Staden fumes, "After everything else I'm hardly leaving without even finding out if they're here or not!" His ire just grows and the situation starts looking ugly until somebody passes a message to the interpreter, who passes it on to the officer von Staden is arguing with. He nods, and the messenger departs. The interpreter tells von Staden that somebody showed up to vouch for him. Confused, von Staden asks who; someone named Herr Adel, the interpreter replies. "He knows you...?" Constanze asks; "I don't know how, I've never met any Herr Adel aside from on the radio!" von Staden replies, bewildered.
The messenger returns with Herr Adel and von Staden blinks, for he DOES know him after all--it's Ratdog, the sniper who confronted him in the woods after his escape from the Trench Rats so long ago. His real name is Adel and he's a Junker, same as von Staden. "Figured they might give you trouble," he says when von Staden asks why he's there, "nobody knows who anybody is right now." He himself is relatively well known, as he'd aided the Trench Rats himself toward the end, and has offered his assistance getting people in touch with each other. He confirms von Staden's identity, confirms that he's been cleared of Nazi ties, and gets them in to find their parents. Herr and Frau von Staden are being kept in a cell with some others; Frau von Staden jumps to her feet--"Constanze! My Constanze!"--and hugs Constanze through the bars when she appears, crying, "Mama--! Papa!" Herr von Staden joins them before Frau von Staden exclaims, "Adalard--!" and reaches her arms out to her son, who's standing back. "Mutter...?" he murmurs, hesitantly stepping forward; she grips his arm and pulls him close. "Vater," he says, and a moment later all four of them are embracing and crying.
There's a bit of hassle trying to get the Americans to release the von Stadens--von Staden refuses to leave and insists he'll stay outside the cell as long as he has to, memories of his own imprisonment making him obstinate--it takes Herr Adel losing his own temper and taking it out on the officer to convince them to let the von Stadens out. By this point the Americans are just glad to be rid of them. Von Staden thanks Herr Adel profusely for his help; "Try to stay out of trouble," Adel says, "I can't always be waiting by my radio to bail you out," and the von Staden family finally heads back home.
They remain for a while, though things are subtly different. The news comes that the territory they live in will be turned over to the Soviet Union; although they have enough connections that they're likely to remain safe, still, "I'm not sure we should take the risk," Herr von Staden explains, having called them all together to discuss the situation. He admits that he's been stashing away foreign money--he started doing so following von Staden's release from the camp: "I knew they were lying to us about something. If they could do that to you, they could do it to anyone. I figured it would be best to plan as if they'll come for the rest of us any day." He leads them into the cellar, digs out a box, and shows them the money. Constanze and von Staden gape. Frau von Staden says sheepishly, "I suppose this is as good a time as ever," and she goes to another part of the cellar and digs out an envelope--within are some foreign bills. The siblings both exclaim in surprise at what their parents have been up to. Herr von Staden says he's been asking around and is pretty sure he'll be able to secure them a residence in the west of Germany, should they head out soon; they'll be guaranteed safe passage. He feels they'll be safer there rather than dealing with the Soviets, who've dealt quite harshly so far with the German citizens they've encountered. He doesn't want to take them away from there, however, without making sure they're all on the same page--that means especially von Staden.
Herr von Staden: "I know you feel safest here, at home, and I wouldn't take that away from you. If you want to stay, then we can stay. The one thing is I doubt they'll take you back into the army, should they rebuild it. You'll have the option to serve again in the west, it's only that the west isn't our home. I leave the choice to you."
Von Staden: *pause* "Honestly...I'm tired. I don't think there's a place for me anymore in the military. I just want us all to be safe. We can do that in the west."
Frau von Staden: "Are you sure, Adalard? We'll have to leave behind our home and start over."
Von Staden: "I'm used to starting over. As long as we're in Germany, we're home."
The von Stadens settle it; they'll pack up their most important belongings, and travel west. Von Staden makes sure to let Vischer know he'd like to remain in touch--the older veteran has helped him immensely in dealing with his anger--before telling him, Altermann, and the Trench Rats goodbye. He does hesitate briefly when the train arrives at the station, though Constanze takes his hand, and he takes a breath. The family boards and they take their seats; von Staden peers out the window as the train slowly pulls ahead, and watches as his old life is again left behind. After a while, his hand still tightly clasped in Constanze's, he falls asleep.
[Adalard von Staden 2023 [‎Friday, ‎September ‎15, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:11 AM]]
[Adalard von Staden 2023 2 [‎Friday, ‎September ‎15, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:24 AM]]
[Adalard von Staden 2023 3 [‎Friday, ‎September ‎15, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:37 AM]]
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riisinaakka-draws · 3 years
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part 2/6
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2nd part of my old Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.
This time the drawings are short comics that were abandoned for a reason or another, mostly because I lost the interest or felt like there was too much to redraw compared to the satisfaction of finishing something else more interesting. There’s also some talk about rigid mindset and how overthinking can lead to stagnation.
Contains early silverflint moments, specks of dust, rackham's glasses are found, jealous-Billy spying, desk-Flint gets caught, "squint-squint", a quiet moment and its bird dilemma etc.
And please do not steal and repost elsewhere. But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations!
Long-ish post under the cut!
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“What are you thinking about?”
“Specks of dust.”
“Liar.”
The idea was to show how much they and their relationship had changed. This was around 2016 when the season 3 began and I was still re-learning to draw with a tablet. Another art from the same time period (and idea) is this art: The Dynamic Duet. 
And for some reason I was really stuck up thinking that I’d have to first do the sketch, then the clean line art, then planes underneath, then shadows etc. and I have always struggled with that kind of approach! Mainly because I hate doing clean line work, lol. And I was a fool for trying to start with a white canvas! It’s so much harder to find values and plan things, or at least in my opinion..
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“Rackham’s glasses are found”
To celebrate their new pirate alliance, they share the four lenses of Rackham’s sunglasses as they were also found at the time (because I wanted it to resurface and they could be made into jewellery you know...). This was right after the episode where Anne fights and hurts her hands (here wearing protecting mittens from Max even though she’s not trusted at the moment). Uh, this doesn’t spark joy interest me much and it’s quite stiff and would recuire a lot of redrawing faces, so - discarded!  
I somewhat like the idea still (them having something to share, although it’s on Jack’s detriment). I tried to find a stylished comical easier doodlier? way to draw them and draw clean lines etc, but it just wasn’t for me. Also here too, the background is blank and too bright. Later I started to think things as scenes and draw everything at the same time instead of adding the bg later or trying to show everything (and everyone) at the same time.
Here’s also Billy in the same story:
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He’s spying on them and since it’s so bright he’s wearing his diy “sunglasses” and being envious to the others. *cough* uhhh...Idk? Also people were shipping Ben Gunn (and cheese) with Billy, so that bled into this too... Charles’ spirit is riding the “big white bird” that was mentioned in Teach’ story and in this case it’s a pelican.
As you can see, I also wasn’t using the brushes that I use nowadays. A hard (or soft) round brushes with no change in opacity just aren’t for me. For example, in traditional art, I struggle with markers and copics, but really enjoy charcoals and watercolours. I prefer ragged edges, layering and thus blending things into each other (and leaving the viewer to fill in the gaps) instead of having stark or definite things. I also struggle with vector drawings, although I have decided to finally start learning to use them...somedayyyy.
Also, I wasn’t paying attention to anatomy, like, at all LMAO. I was just so happy to be able to put something on the canvas.
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This is one of my first ink drawings, but I cannot find the original anymore. Again, I like the idea, but not how things look art-wise. And I was so adamant, that I have to get everything right in the traditional drawing and not fix anything later on on photoshop because then it would be cheating. And thus, I was never able to move on or finish this properly the way I liked it (idiot).
BUT! It was a good practise to just draw and test things on paper and gain confidense on drawing things in overall (as I was still getting back into art). To get over the fear of blank paper you know, and try to find my style whatever it would start to form into.
Oh, yeah, Desk Flint.
Desk Flint was a thing for a while (still is, lol). Another drawing from that time is this Slingshot Pirate (2016). And Desk Flint keeps repeating in many later works too. The point is mainly “Flint sitting behind his desk and people interrupt him and I don’t have to draw him fully”
Well, anyway... moving on.
Here’s a plan that has been stuck for years. It’s name is “Squint-squint.” Left is the sketch (with another sketch underneath because the expressions were clearer in the old one). On the right is the continued piece with colour scheme but I cropped the eyes panel and faces out (it was so ugly for some reason) but if I ever continue/finish this, it will be redrawn there in the middle.)
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Left. “On that moment their eyes were literally open(ed).”
Right. “After squinting on the shore for days, they had actually forgotten how pretty the other idiot’s eyes were.”
I still like it, quite a lot, but my perfectionist ass only sees too much “boring” things to draw and get right, so it hasn’t been a priority for a long time and other works have kept me occupied and more interested in them.
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“Quiet Moment.” 2018 (a wordless comic happening after the events of Charles Town)
I’m going to explain after these pictures, but see how big the difference is when you start to look at references and plan things together (the space, “camera” movement, background etc). I also started to colour with coarser brushes:
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I drew this around early 2018. A lot of improvement! Still quite a lot of negative space (empty white backgrounds), but it fits this work. A few things tell where we are (the ship’s cabin and the balcony). Changing distances and how things are cropped/framed make things more moving and focused (and less to draw, lol). Colours and brush strokes are softer, more layered and so on.
But guess why it’s still a wip!
I couldn’t decide what bird is flying over there.
Yeap! At first it was an albatross (doesn’t go to Bahamas?). Then a seagull (but which seagull? there’s so many subspecies! Is the ship at sea or at the harbour? what birds are there on the open water/ close to the shore?? oh noo...) So, yeah, wayyyy too much over-thinking.
At some point I ended up with white-tailed-tropic-bird which was a plus! because it sounds like the bosun’s whistle, but at that point I was so tangled and frustrated and still had so much to finish with this that I left it be. Also Flint’s face looks different in every frame so I would’ve had to change some parts, lol. And then I forgot it for a couple of years! And then I had learned to draw a bit differently and again saw too much things to do, so it’s quite hard to take on this again, especially when there are so many other interesting wips waiting...
But I still really like the feeling of it! And the colour scheme. So I might just limit the things I’m allowed to fix and then post it as it own someday. I mean, it’s 90% finished, but the last reach just feels like miles.
And that’s what usually happens with my wips. They reach a certain point and it suddenly becomes really hard to finish or get back into.
But every time I learn things and then use the information in another work! :D
Final note for this post (altough this has been said hundreds of times): use references and look how things go and try to see the structure and form beneath things. And think where it is happening and how the light and surroundings affects the characters and/or spaces. And maybe think what you’re trying to convey with the art, what idea? what emotions? what purpose? or like, what are you trying to learn with the piece? and so on...
Thanks for checking this out, I hope you had fun <3
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the-space-lady · 3 years
Text
I think it is time to say Goodbye.
Hello! Mod here, Tataia. I’ve come to make an announcement about the-space-lady and edgy-frenchman.
From this day on, I will not be updating these blogs anymore. I will be closing the inbox and delete all unanswered asks.
Don’t worry! They will still be up, you can come back to look through everything as many times as you’d like, but don’t expect any new posts in either blogs.
Now, we all know already that these blogs have been on an never ending hiatus, and it showed no signs of updating regularly like back in the day. So, let’s have a little (okay, kind of long) chat, about how this blog came to life, and how I am happy and thankful with everything that came from it.
Feel free to not read this at all, because it is kind of a long read.
If you have any questions, please send an ask to my main blog, @tataiafurquim​, and follow my twitter where I’m the most active, also going by the same username.
Three years ago, 2017, for the first time in the Brawlhalla history, there was a new legend leak! It was a picture taken with a phone of a monitor screen which showed the character selection screen in Brawlhalla, of the next legend in the default pose (the one that every legend has before getting their signature poses once they’re released); that was the first time everyone saw Artemis. BMG didn’t even announce her on dev streams by that point. The picture was shared in the r/Brawlhalla discord server, and, Calamari-Pop herself had tagged me to see it in one of the text channels, saying, ‘look! female Orion!’. Since I started playing the game, I’ve always been an Orion main, and once I saw Artemis for the first time, I felt like it was love at first sight.
I was instantly hyped for the character, while most people were complaining that ‘BMG had run out of ideas for new legends’, I couldn’t wait for her release, she was so beautiful, I never felt so hyped for something like I did for Artemis. I was probably the first person to make fanart for her and post it on r/Brawlhalla. People’s opinions on Artemis were very 50/50. People didn’t like her because ‘it’s just female Orion’, others genuinely liked her, and were excited to play with the next scythe legend.
I didn’t have many friends at the time who were into Brawlhalla, so for me the hype was kept mainly to myself, and of course, through my art. The picture we had of Artemis was very poor quality, so a lot of early art was missing a lot of details, but I didn’t care; I just kept drawing the only thing that was bringing me happiness.
I was a 14 year old when all of this happened, school was being very rough on me, back in the day I used to struggle so much to study, it was a pain to focus and learn, I’d always give up and go back to video games and art. My grades were horrible, I felt like my personal friendships were kind of faling apart, and so with my family. The only light at the end of the tunnel I had at the time, was the idea of making an ask blog for Artemis.
At first, I was skeptical. What if it flops? The Brawlhalla community wasn’t very active in other social medias, it was small, but everyone was close and if something big was announced, the word would spread fast. I mean, it was worth a short. Worse comes to worse, I delete the blog and move on. Ask blogs weren’t as popular as they were either.
I had claimed the URL even before Artemis was announced in a dev stream, so the blog was ready to go. I remember waiting a little more than a month when the patch of her release was finally online, and I did my move of announcing the blog in every social media I could, and so I waited for the community to show up.
And they didn’t stop coming! It was ask after ask, I was so happy, this little blog was my escape from the real world. Answering people as Artemis was honestly the most fun I was having during that year. And I could also draw her as much as I’d like! The blog was growing, and so was my audience of people who was genuinely following me for my regular art. Even when I was grounded because I did bad on a test, I still answered people with drawings made on paper.
Needless to say, this blog was definitely, a start for me in the Brawlhalla community. “Are you the person who draws a lot of Artemis?” “Yep! That’s me!” It was great, I felt like I was finally becoming someone somewhat important in a community like I always wished to, drawing what I loved, and people loved it. I even met my soon-to-be boyfriend through it!
But of course, that didn’t stop what was happening outside of the computer screen. Things were going even more downhill the more I focused on the internet and forgot about real life. It was helpless; there was no way I was passing that school year, I’d have to repeat it. My parents had decided that maybe one of the issues was that, my old school, was one of those schools that go really hard on the students, and that was not my place. So, the next year, 2018, I changed schools for the first time.
I’ve always had really bad anxiety. On the first day in the new school, you know what I did? I drew Artemis. What a surprise to nobody, but for me, this was my moment of realization, that this space lady from a fighting game, was my comfort character. This possibly canonically evil woman who wants to kill my main because of some fucked up shit he did in the past, was my comfort character. I was depressed? I drew Artemis. I was happy? I drew Artemis. I was extremely pissed off?? You guessed it! I drew Artemis! It is likely that a lot of pieces I made of her that I’ve posted online, were created from strong emotions I had while I drew it. There’s a lot that I didn’t even post either.
In 2018 I was still updating the blog, but I was also focusing a lot more on school. I was managing to get good grades, I made new friends, had new experiences, and my relationship with my family was getting better. Of course every year has its ups and downs, but overall, the important part, was finally being taken care of; I passed the school year, and then I passed again, and I passed again! I have just one more year to go, and hopefully, in 2021 I’ll be done.
Setting that aside, as the blog grew, my audience online did so too. My art improved, I’ve become, for the lack of a better word, an important member in the community. A lot of people have seen my art, and some of them probably don’t even follow me!
Today, I am a Brawlhalla Partner, I have a wonderful boyfriend, incredible friends, an amazing relationship with my family, and I am now hoping for a bright future of work ahead of me, and it was all thanks to this ask blog of a fictional character who I deeply loved. I would have never made it where I am today without Artemis, without Brawlhalla, without all of you. I could ever be thankful, and all I can give you all is more fanart of this amazing game that has completely changed my life, and with how Brawlhalla has been growing? Keep an eye on this one, it’s gonna get big.
Thank you so much everyone who has supported me over the years, and followed me more than just Artemis content. The updates on the blog have stopped because I’ve been focusing on other things. trying out new stuff and focusing on myself to become a better person and artist, creating my own stories with original characters, which I’m excited to share with all of you.
Anyway, take care, whoever read this far <3 Hopefully 2021 will be a better year for everyone.
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fydk-translations · 7 years
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170815 The War Fansign: Kyungsoo fanaccounts
@1248_room:  Me: When did you start to raise Meokmul and Huchu? KS: Ah, because I’ve always liked dogs~ Me: Ah.... I meant the opportunity to!! KS: The opportunity to! (eyes get big) My parents used to dislike dogs! But I was determined and kept pushing until they said yes. Me: Ah~ so they’re at your parents’ home?? KS: Yes~~
@LOVELYRIM0408: I forgot everything as soon as I made eye contact with Kyungsoo... I told him my wedding was in December and his eyes got even bigger as he congratulated me extremely earnestly haha. [On my request] his suggested nuptial song was For Life and when I asked if he could come sing it personally for us, he said “I’d like to....” haha. Kyungsoo, thank you sincerely for your suggestion and blessing
@luv_in0114:  Me: You know how Mr. Jo Jungseok calls you a s..son of a bitch in Brother? KS: Ah, yes ! Me: I have these dog-bird figures.. [t/n: s.o.b. and dog-bird are both spelled ‘gaesae’] KS: Ah? They’re really called gaesae? Me: Yes! KS: There’s really something called gaesae?? Me: Ah n..no there’s not actually something called gaesae, these are just figures ! KS: (looks at boxes laughing) Ah so I have a chance of getting one of these four? Me: Yes ! Please open it later~ KS: (was already opening it) Pfthahahaha
The dog-bird Kyungsoo got was the pug-bird ! When he asked me if “there was really something called gaesae..???” he was really serious about the question...
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@94sh0412: Kyungsoo was the first in line TTT I told him I think can stay alive now from seeing his handsome face after seeing only my brother’s for so long and he gave me his unique bursting ah! ha! ha! laugh TTTTTT
@exo120408998: 
Me: Please suggest a name for a white dog KS: Salt (his haha laugh) TTTTTTTTTTT If I ever get a dog, it’ll be named Salt!!!!!
@bc_0421: Me: Do you still cook often? KS: Yes! I cook often. Me: What’s the last dish you made? KS: It was fried rice. Me: I hear that people who like to cook also get very interested in bowls and plates. Did you too? KS: Yes! Me: What was the last one you bought? KS: The last one was porcelain!
@hjyoung32342: As soon as I got to Kyungsoo, I got on one knee, held out a bouquet, and asked him to marry me. Kyungsoo asked ‘did you ask us to marry?’ with his uncontrolled haha laugh TTT The message is something I asked him to write! It was really nice... I asked him to draw a heart on his photocard too TT
[text: Love you, my girl!]
The ring that I gave him...
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@minnny106: It’s adorable how Kyungsoo wrote my full name and even stuck on a -nim... I asked him to write down something sweet and after getting super pensive he wrote ‘sweetness’ TTTTT
@X_i_u__: Me: Hello! Could you by any chance write ‘my savior who has come to ruin my life’? KS: Of course. ‘My savior...’ Me: Who has come to ruin my life. Have you ever thought about releasing a solo album? KS: If I’m given the chance too, but there hasn’t been one yet... Ruin...? Me: Has come to ruin! My life! When I go, could you call ‘Cherry’? KS: Cherry! Me: Cherry blossom? (then I covered my face and fled) [t/n: pun, also sounds like ‘did you call Cherry?’ if said in an aegyo tone] KS: Please come back (waves me back while laughing)
@bbhsrh804: Me: Do you like odd numbers [holsoo] or even numbers [jjaksoo] more? KS: (thinking...) I like even numbers! Me: Personally I like Kyungsoo! KS: (laughs big) (laughs again after signing) Me: Please write something pretty for me! KS: Something pretty... [text: Happiness!]
@xiudoh_: I remember that when I told Junmyeon I was going to Japan on vacation and asked him to recommend me a restaurant or dish, he told me ‘you need to ask Kyungsoo for something like that’ hahahaha
@cuhyuk: Me: Is there something you always eat when you’re in Busan? KS: Um.. abalone porridge. Me: Where??? KS: There.. at a shop next to where the Busan International Film Festival is held.
Now... somebody please tell me the name of this place.
@Lovelylovesuho: Kyungsoo is so good-looking and sweet.. I asked him about doing a musical but he hasn’t thought about being in one yet.. And I asked what brand of alcohol he likes and he answered Jinro TTTT
@xiu__99_: He drew Huchu for me TTTT
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@marymond0408: “Can I follow up with you after this? Let’s go on an autumn date.” Kyungsoo 👼: Let’s also have a winter date, and a spring date. Let’s go on all of them.
@BH_ZERO_FOUR: Me: Hello. ⊙♡⊙: Yes, hello~ What’s your name? ___? Me: Yes. By any chance are you interested in becoming a lyricist? ⊙♡⊙: A lyricist? That would be really nice, but I have no writing talent. Me: Could you write down a line that comes to mind when you look at me? ⊙♡⊙: A line? [text: She’s my lady!]
@hello_apriler: Kyungsoo always adds a -nim hahaha. He did that at the last fansign so I asked him to write noona instead, so he went ‘Ah! Noona~’ and wrote ‘___ noona!’ The exclamation point is too cute hahaha. What pretty handwriting (⌒♡⌒)
@yeol_spring:  Me: Please suggest something for dinner! KS: Huh? Me: For dinner! KS: For dinner? Um... Busan is... Me: Uh huh! KS: Busan is famous for its daegutang, isn’t it?
[text: Which role would you like to play? 1. Criminal 2. Police 3. Witness 4. Accomplice 5. [Passerby]]
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@GeumNa: One of my friends in Japan got into EXO’s Daegu fansign. I was helping her write messages in Korean last night. When Kyungsoo saw her message, he replied and spoke to her in Japanese, asking if she had come alone and to return home safely :) He’s kind. Even I’m gladdened heheh
@01055708083:  KS: (with his bright smile) Hello~ your name is ___! Me: Hello, please come to Busan often! (literal heart attack at eye contact) KS: I’d like to come here often... Me: I saw Kamome Diner because you suggested it and really enjoyed it~ KS: Isn’t Kamome Diner really good? (his eyes are sparkling with the film topic) Me: I really had fun watching it. Could you suggest another movie? KS: Um.. have you watched Megane [by the same director]? Me: (it was loud so it was hard to hear) Huh?? Mega what??? KS: Me! Ga! Ne! Glasses in Japanese (eyes get round) Please watch Megane!
@kimnungom: Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo all asked me to get well TTT My leg was injured, and as soon as I appeared Kyungsoo asked me how I got hurt, even skipping the introductions... I got hurt while watching EXO... I’ll stay healthy! EXO is the best!
@cosmosgroove: Kyungsoo’s one-of-a-kind autograph. His drew it past the page and across the album’s side. He was apologizing, but Kyungsoo... that’s nothing to be sorry for T^T If you did it, it was the right thing to do....
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@hotxiu: I asked Kyungsoo to tell me ‘fighting!’ because I was studying art hahahaha and he wrote “Work hard on your art and become really cool!” I’ll promise to become cool ❤️
@a_little_moon: Kyungsoo says he’s stopped doing Pilates
@tur8s: Do you see Kyungsoo’s ‘-nim’ haha. It’s so like him.... I brought a photo ticket from Brother and asked him to draw on it so he wrote little brother ♡ big brother (◉♡◉ ) on it and laughed. Cute...
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@Minkkung_0326: Kyungsoo is just TTT This was my first fansign and he was so accommodating TTTT At the end, I thanked him either for being a part of EXO or for being a singer and was so grateful when he gave a glad smile TTT Kyungsoo, shall we go to Sapporo?
[text + t/n: ‘Shall we go to Sapporo?’ is the next-to-last line of a popular love prose by lee byeongryul that, to the speaker, is a form of confession]
@ejoo_s2: Kyungsoo said his tap dancing practices were going well when I asked. I told him that I was looking forward to it, to not hurt his feet, to be careful TTTT Kyungsoo was thanking me until I had to leave .. Ah my heart is fluttering with what Kyungsoo wrote me TT The moon is so bright tonight..
[text + t/n: “The moon is so bright tonight~” is a line from a 20th century japanese writer popularly understood as ‘i love you’]
[to be updated]
sources as linked | translation: fydk 
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gins-potter · 7 years
Text
in my hour of darkness, she’ll be my light
Inspired by the art Weary by burdge which you can find here.  Also posted on AO3 and FF.net.
He was gone.
The thought raced through Ginny’s head making her blood run cold as she stared blankly at the obviously empty four-poster bed.  Trying to fight down her mounting panic, Ginny ripped back the curtains of the other beds, just in case Harry had, in his exhausted state, had mistaken his bed for another, before finally checking the bathroom, only to find it, as she had feared, equally empty.
It had been two days since the battle had finally ended and Harry had been asleep for most of them, only ever waking for a moment at a time to mumble a few incoherent words and turn over.  It had terrified them all when first ten hours had passed, then fifteen and finally a full twenty-four had passed without him showing any indication that he was going to wake up.  But Madam Pomfrey had been up several times to check on him and according to her other than a few cuts and scrapes, and some bruises including a nasty black one right over his heart, he was completely fine.  Exhausted, but fine.
So they had let him sleep, he had deserved it after all, as the rest of them had helped tend to the wounded, collect bodies from the ground, and even begin restoring the castle.  Hating to be away from him for even an hour after months separated, Ginny had taken every opportunity she could get in between busy hours of hard work to sit with him.
And now he was gone.
She raced down the steps, blessedly untouched from the battle, and spilled down into the common room, drawing stares from her family.  The sight of them all together drew her up short and for a moment she was so stunned that she forgot what had sent her down into the common room in the first place.
They hadn’t spent much time together as a family since the end of the battle, each choosing to deal with Fred’s loss in their own way.  George had taken to wandering the grounds of Hogwarts for hours on end, reappearing only for the occasional meal, but as long as he came back they let him do it, none of them truly able to understand what he was going through.  Her mother had spent the first day obsessively checking and re-checking the injuries on each of her children and when they’d inevitably shooed her away had decided to help Madam Pomfrey tend to the injured.  Ron had spent a lot of his time with Hermione, their relationship a new and untainted refuge for him.  The rest of them had channeled their grief into the restoration of the castle, perhaps not the healthiest way to cope but it worked for them, burying their feelings in the long hours and gruelling work.  They’d all been eating at different times, and going to bed early, and none of them had been too interested in getting them all together again, perhaps because it only served to illuminate more clearly Fred’s absence.
“Ginny?” one of them asked, as they all rose to their feet, tired eyes darting around to search on instinct for a threat.
But Ginny couldn’t reassure them, not through the haze of panic and Harry, where’s Harry!  Her eyes roved over the crowd crammed into the room, hoping wildly that she might of missed seeing him on her way up to the common room.
“Gin, what is it?”
“Harry,” she rasped, eyes scanning the room again, as though she might have possibly missed him the first time.  “He’s gone.”
A worried murmur passed through the whole room, who had apparently been listening in, and the Weasley’s shared troubled looks.
Ever the reasonable one Arthur was the one to speak calmly, “I’m sure he’s just in the Great Hall.  He probably woke up and was ravenous and wandered down to get something to eat.”
The idea was as plausible as any other, though for some reason Ginny had her doubts, but with no reasonable excuse, she conceded and trooped down with the others to the Great Hall.  But he wasn’t there.  Nor was he in the hospital wing where they thought he might of been checking in with Madam Pomfrey.  And so they began to check other common areas of the castle, and then, when they turned up empty, other not-so-common places, people joining the search until soon over half of those still residing in the castle were looking for him.
Hours passed but Harry never turned up and worry amongst the searchers quickly descended into panic.  He was their beloved Chosen One and saviour, but more than that, Harry was a friend to most of them and they all just wanted him to be ok.
Hermione found Ginny late in the afternoon, just as the sun began to near the horizon, taking a ten minute break after which she planned to track down George and get him to help her search every secret passageway that he knew of.  Her footsteps echoed in the deserted Great Hall, signalling her approach as she neared where Ginny had sat, out of habit, at the old Gryffindor table.  Setting a mug of hot chocolate in front of her friend, Hermione took a seat, looking oddly calm.
“You don’t look very worried,” Ginny said, a note of accusation in her voice but she took the drink regardless.  Her eyes slid shut at the first taste and a noise of contentment escaped her, the creamy taste exactly what she needed after a day of barely eating.
Hermione didn’t look offended at the accusation and only smiled slightly.  “I know Harry.  He’s probably found someplace quiet to think.”
The thought hadn’t escaped Ginny but there were other, more terrifying possibilities that had been running through her head all afternoon.  “I’m just scared, that now that Voldemort is gone, something he’s been working for for so long, and with everything he’s been through…”
“You think Harry might try to hurt himself?” Hermione asked gently.
Ginny looked away and down at her drink.
“I’ve been friends with Harry for a long time,” Hermione said finally.  Ginny resisted the irrational urge to bite back ‘me too’ and instead remained quiet.  “And even when things were at its worst,” she continued and Ginny knew they were both thinking of their fifth year and that horrible summer, and Umbridge, and losing Sirius.  “He never spoke of or even hinted at… anything like that.”
“He’s just lost so much,” Ginny whispered brokenly, feeling tears prick at her eyes as her heart broke thinking about his parents, and Sirius, and Remus, all of whom were gone now.  Hermione’s arm slid around her shoulders while she swiped furiously at her eyes.
“He hasn’t lost you,” Hermione said earnestly.  “Or me.  Or Ron.  Our family, Neville, Luna, we’re all still here and Harry knows that.”
Ginny sniffled her way to a smile and brushed away the last of her tears.  “Do you ever get sick of being right?” she asked her friend.
Hermione smiled.  “Never.”
They lapsed into quiet, both absorbed by their own thoughts, and sipped at their hot chocolates.
“You know, o wise one,” Ginny joked with a thick voice.  “You never did work out where Harry might be.”
Hermione shrugged.  “Some place quiet.  Somewhere he feels safe.  Somewhere with happy memories.”  She drained the last dregs from her mug, set it aside and stood.
“Where are you going?”
“Ron’s been working on the room of requirement for a couple of hours now.  Someone’s definitely in there, but the problem is people have been sleeping in there until they can get back to their homes so we have no way of knowing if it’s Harry or someone else.  Guess all we can do is keep trying.”
“A couple of hours, huh?” Ginny mused, playing absently with the handle of her mug.  “Ron’s got to be frustrated by now.”
“You bet,” Hermione said with a faint smile.  “I think he might of broken his foot kicking the wall at one point.”  She paused, looking uncertain for a moment.  “I should probably get back to him before he breaks the other one.”  Still she hesitated and Ginny knew Hermione was worried about her.
“Go,” she laughed, waving her off.  Ron needed all the help he could and besides Ginny wouldn’t mind being alone for a few minutes.
She watched Hermione go, the heavy doors thudding closed behind her before turning back to last of her hot chocolate.
Somewhere quiet, Ginny mused silently.  Somewhere he felt safe, with happy memories.  Mentally she ran through a list of places he used to like to hang out, eventually ruling them all out as either too public, having been ruined by the battle, or already having checked it.  Then she remembered suddenly one place they used to frequent back in that brief, happy time they’d been together at Hogwarts.  Simultaneously smiling to herself and cursing herself for not thinking of it earlier, she leapt up from the table and hurried away.
The grounds of Hogwarts were spotted with people, many calling Harry’s name as they checked nooks and crannies of the lawns, peering into small alcoves, and in the distance, even venturing into the edges of the forest.  Knowing her history with Harry, many of them offered her sympathetic smiles or words of encouragement, and she managed brief smiles in return as hurried around the perimeter of the lake.
Right on the edge of the lake, round near the edge of the ground, and further than most were ever bothered to venture was a small patch of weeping willows.  And hidden behind the first layer of draping fronds was a small bench that she and Harry had used when they had wanted to get away from all the stares and whispers.  They never could work out how many people knew about the secluded spot, they’d never been interrupted while they were there, but carvings of names and hearts into the wood had shown that others had been there at some point.  Ginny glanced behind her furtively to ensure that no one was looking before sweeping back the curtain of cool branches that tickled her skin and ducked inside.
And as she had expected there was Harry, sitting calmly and looking out over the lake in his private corner of the world.  He didn’t look around, though he must of heard the swish of parting willows, and her soft footfalls and Ginny wondered if he were ignoring her, or perhaps didn’t care who it was, or if maybe he hadn’t noticed her at all, lost in his thoughts as he was.
Moving slowly, she approached him from behind, rounding the bench and kneeling silently before him.  His eyes never strayed from the rippling water of the lake but a deep and wavering sigh shuddered through him, the first and only outward sign that he noticed her presence at all.
Still, Ginny didn’t speak, not yet, for the broken and fragile look in Harry’s eyes stole her voice from her, and even if she could speak she didn’t know what she would say.  She knew that he had to be thinking about his parents, and Sirius, and Remus, and those countless bodies they’d pulled from the grounds.
“Harry,” she breathed and his eyes slid closed, looking pained, while her hand found first his knee and then his hand, calluses from years of playing Quidditch pressed against her own.  
She squeezed gently but received nothing in response and on instinct her other hand rose to his shoulder, then slid to his neck, to feel the thud of his pulse against her palm, to remind herself that he was here, that he was alive, but also to remind him that she was here, and that she would stand by him.  Her thumb rubbed absently at his jaw, feeling several days worth of stubble there, and just for a moment, eyes still closed, he leaned into her touch.  Ginny froze, afraid to break the moment but regardless, Harry straightened of his own accord and his eyes opened again, staring blankly past her and at the lake again.
Sensing the change in him, Ginny managed a small sad smile, squeezed his hand again and stood.  She took a few steps, but before she could stop herself, a hand of hers was working its way through his hair, longer than he usually kept and no doubt a result of his months on the run and her head was ducking to press a kiss to the crown of his head.  The strands were damp beneath her lips and smelled faintly of shampoo, telling her that he’d been in a rational enough frame of mind that morning to at least have a shower and wash away the grime of the battle.  She remained there for a moment, just breathing in the smell of him.  The words were on the tip of her tongue, three little words, that she had never gotten to say to him but she bit them back.  He wasn’t ready to hear them yet and there would be days, and months, and years to tell him over and over again that she loved him.
Ginny sucked in a sharp breath and withdrew, ready to leave him to his thoughts, and tell the others that he was alright.  But again she didn’t make it far before a hand was clasping around her risk, and holding her insistently in place.  Harry’s eyes still hadn’t left the lake but he had reached behind for her, the message of his grip clear, stay with me.  And it would have taken a herd of raging hippogriffs to keep her away.
Another sound shuddered it’s way free from Harry as she rounded the bench, even more ragged and pained than the last.  Then another, a sob, as she slid into his lap just in time for him to bury his face against her shoulder, her catching a glimpse of the way it crumpled before it disappeared.  
Outside their little cocoon of safety, voices still called for Harry, but they seemed further away now, as though part of another world.  And here in their world, Ginny just held Harry as he shook and sobbed, comforting him as finally let it all out.
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greyliliy · 4 years
Text
Paper Mario: The Origami King
I loved Paper Mario: The Origami King. A lot. It's my first Paper Mario game and it is an understatement to say that I adored it. Enough so that I want to write a full review on my thoughts for the entire game. o-o It’s been so long since I’ve felt the need to do that and it feels good. It feels so good. T-T
So let’s do this. :D This is going to be a long one, and I’ll probably put the cut right before I start talking about individual chapters. Hopefully before that there are no major spoilers, but afterwards its’ a free for all discussion. So spoilers will be present! :D
A Brief History of my Relationship With Paper Mario
I saw an Arlo video talking about it when I was randomly browsing videos on his channel (I found him for something else believe or not) and I think that was the first time I even realized this franchise existed. Lol. (Which is funny because I have a Wii U and Paper Mario: Color Splash was like the last big game for that console).
I was curious so I browsed the Paper Mario Reddit and watched his Color Splash reviews and got interested in the series.
I ended starting to watch play throughs of Thousand Year Door (where I am mostly through the game? The players just finished the area where you get Vivian) and Color Splash (where I am halfway through the game maybe?).
My opinion on both games: They both look fine. TYYD has it’s good points. Color Splash has its good points. I feel like I would be irritated by random battles in both of them, no matter the combat methods. Lol.
But honestly I leaned more toward Color Splash because I love the Paper Aesthetic. Good story + Paper Themed World = My jam.
Which  means that first Origami King trailer smacked me in the face because it looked like I’d be getting both. I preordered the game as soon as I saw the trailer and it did not disappoint. Lol.
General Stuff
The Good: The characters! I adored all of them. Every character, whether generic minion or unique, was bursting with fun dialogue and moments that made me smile. Olivia was precious. I want an Origami Olly to put in my room (I love him so much) and the Legion of Stationary was surprisingly fleshed out. They were easily my favorite bosses in the game, which was a surprise after all the teasing they got in the trailers. Lol.
Plus: LUIGI. Oh my gosh. He’s amazing in this game. XD
The Music doesn’t need my praise. Everyone has praised the music in this game and it deserves it. Every. Single. Track. Is the greatest and I love this soundtrack. I’m listening to it right now (Where can I buy this Nintendo. TELL ME).
I also really enjoyed the battles. It had a nice blend of Turn Based & Overworld Action, keeping things mixed up and fresh. I wasn’t great at some of the combat (Which I’ll talk about below in the chapter by chapter section) but the game makes stuff easier if you fail too much...which I appreciated. LOL.
Oh. And the Confetti thing. I liked it. Filling holes with confetti was satisfying in a nice completionism way. It was kinda soothing, too, and it was nice to physically repair the world in addition to trying to save it in general.
The Critique: The game needed more time with Olly. I’m not just saying that as someone who loved him, I’m saying it as a story miss. We see Olly at the beginning. And we see him for like two seconds at a time between chapters to half-handedly ask Olivia to join him, and then...the final boss fight. One or two cut-away scenes showing what Olly and Peach were doing between the Streamer Banners would have been great and done wonders for fleshing out the story.
The Combat: Opinions on this have been highly mixed. Specifically, I have noticed a large crowd saying the combat is too easy; they line everything up on the first turn and kill everything on the first turn and then they’re drowning in coins so there’s no point to battle.
And then there’s Me: I rarely got the puzzle right on the first turn, which means I didn't get the bonus coins, and I usually burned through weapons and faster since I didn’t get the “Great Line Up!” on the first turn bonus. So I was...constantly fight enemies for coins (Stuff gets expensive in this game) and using them to get help from the Toads.
So when I got puzzles right on the first turn, I felt super accomplished. Lol. I did eventually get better at them (and used one of the help items from the Battle Toad) and was beating them in one turn 60% of the time. So while I really enjoyed the puzzle turn-based battles, I can see how some would get tired and bored of them.
I think a difficulty setting might fix the wildly different experiences with this. The puzzles get much tricker later, so if you’re solving even those too fast--the game could have given you harder stuff to solve.
Though it is sort of funny. If you do well at puzzles, you get a ton of extra bonus coins. But if you’re good at the puzzles, you don’t need those coins since coins are mostly spent on “Getting help for puzzles.” Which the people who are bad at puzzles need but don’t get...fun times.
Boss battles, however, were mostly scripted and I’ll talk about those in detail in the spoiler section below. XD
The Game
Okay! Let’s get into the meat and talk about each Streamer Section individually. o-o Whoooooooo. I’m glad the Game8 Wiki has a nice layout for me to reference. XD
Prologue
This is when I knew I was going to love the game. Luigi is adorable. Origami Peach is every bit as creepy as the trailer promised. And Olly stealing the castle was great. :D
The Red Streamer
This entire streamer is a tutorial. I can see how that could get irritating if you don’t like Olivia holding you hand (and I have seen many complain about it), but this is the only chapter where she does that. 
Which I understand. Every streamer follows the same sort of pattern (explore two or more themed areas to open up a path to a temple, beat a temple, beat a Vellumental, go clear the boss building/area, fight the Stationary Boss). Giving the audience a clear how-to guide to get through an entire Streamer Chapter isn’t the worst.
Plus Olivia is adorable and I used X to talk to her all the time, whether I needed the hint or not. Lol.
Whispering Woods
The mini story with the trees and the the little Toad camp ground are cute. I was surprised that I had to back track here later in the game a few times. XD
Toad Town
The hub world! Here you can find the Museum (which has all the fast travel pipes), the Battle Practice area (which if you visit 3x will give you items to make the Ring battles easier), and the shop (please remember to actually use your membership card you get from here and don’t be like me who paid 24,000 coins in the late game for a collectible when I could have had it HALF OFF but I forgot to equip the membership card).
It also features: A cool Graffiti area I need to visit again because I heard it gets more art as you progress through the game, many Macho Gumbas to beat, the Docks, a Toad that’ll tell you what Power Up Hearts you are missing, more fast travel options, and a great scene with Luigi that kick-starts his sub-story as he hunts for Princess Peach’s Castle Key.
Picnic Road & Overlook Mountain
So many hidden Toads. Everywhere. XD It’s a very lovely area, but again, since this is a tutorial-ish Streamer there isn’t much there aside from enemies to practice fighting and a lot of examples of how Toads hide (including in the ground, in walls, as folded origami, on the other end of small over world puzzles, etc.)
Earth Elemental Temple & Fight
I loved the lead up to this Temple. The fake Koopa one with the small tour boxes was so great. It was funny, cute, and I loved that the fake Temple Tour ended with a real Temple.
The fight was easy (again...tutorial streamer) but I still messed up a few times. Lol. It took me a while to get the hang of the boss rings (and I kid you not, it was like five streamers in before I realized you could move the boss ring panels front and back in addition to rotating the rings).
Olivia turning into a Vellumental was a huge surprise. I’m not sure how I feel about it as a whole, but they use her transforming powers the entire game, so it’s thematically appropriate.
Overlook Tower & Colored Pencils
Fighting your way up the tower to get to the boss was fun. I loved the elevator bits & the drawings everywhere (Colored Pencils drew Olly!!!).
It was a very nice introduction to the future “Boss Building before the Fight” that you’ll face in every Streamer.
Also Colored Pencils having a personality was such a delight that I couldn’t help but grin. Legit, the Legion of Stationary are some of my favorite characters and I’m amazing at how much life and personality they shoved into these office supplies.
I’m sad they die afterwards though. T-T
But with the Red Streamer done, the game stops holding your hand and the game really gets going. :P
The Blue Streamer
One word: Bobby.
It’s fun having the second world be your favorite in the game. Lol. But it just hit all the right beats and made a great impact.
Autumn Mountain
Very pretty area. Lets you get to know Bob-omb (aka “Bobby” as Olivia likes to call him) and his personality as you explore a gorgeous, autumn area. Lots of warm colors and great music tracks. It had a few frustrating areas with the stupid falling Chestnuts (oh my gosh how long did it take me to figure out I needed to hit the wall to break it lol), but overall a good area.
Water Vellumental
I cheated on the slide puzzles. I’ll admit it. I paid the coins to have the Temple solve its own puzzles. LOL.
Years of playing Zelda made me terrified of a Water based Temple but it wasn’t that bad aside from the slide puzzles. A very lovely temple with a great design.
The boss fight was one of the easier ones, but I was still getting the hang of figuring out the pathing for boss fights so it took me a while to figure out how to execute the things I wanted to do (I figured out early I had to use Olivia’s Earth Vellumental form to avoid the Water Attack, but I wasn’t so good at lining u the On Button and the Magic Circles to do it lol).
Eddy River
Lord this was annoying. I missed one of the Holes to fill with confetti and that was the moment were I was like “I will never 100% this game” because the thought of going down that river again made me go “No.” XD
Shogun Studios
I loved running around this amusement park. There were puzzles and character interactions everywhere. (So many item trades between NPCs lol) and the Ninja Mansion was fun. Even if I had to do it twice because I missed Luigi the first time around...
Big Sho’ Theatre & Rubber Band
This was amazing.
Riding the up the tower in the audience seats. The captured Toad audience. The paper Macho actors. The different stage plays. Rubber Band yelling in the background before showing up as the Diva they are.
The Rubber Band fight was also a blast. I figured out the trick immediately and had a great time wrecking that boss. XD
It was fun. The Rubber Band Tower & Fight are easily my 2nd favorite Boss Area and Fight in the game.
Sweetpaper Valley to Breezy Tunnel
I know this area is technically part of the Yellow Streamer, but it feels like an interlude section, so I’m putting it in its own section.
I will admit, I had this part of the game spoiled for me. I knew about what happened to Bobby and I was like “Really. The game’s going to go there.”
And it did.
When you get to the Valley, Olly drops a bolder on Olivia and Bobby’s like “I know how to fix this.”
He takes you on an awesome adventure through the Princess Peach Cruise Ship that involves an incredible Macho Battle on the boat and the retrieval of a special item, and then when you get back...
Bob-omb saves Olivia.
The death of Bobby itself wasn’t the sad part. Honestly it was a little funny because the bolder explodes into a bunch of confetti that Mario picks up as he walks through it.
The sad part is Olivia.
When she realizes what happened to Bobby and runs away. Ug. Sitting with her in the dark as she sobs. Her grief. It’s so sad in the best way. And then Bobby! Bobby tells you to cheer her up and man.
That tiny “That’s not fair” she says to Mario when he makes her laugh? That’s the spot that got me teary eyed for the first time in the game.
It’s so good and it solidified this game as an all time favorite. Even if the rest of the game was horrible, it can’t take that scene away.
The Yellow Streamer
The. Music. This area has my favorite music. Every track is such a jazzy, awesome beat and I could hang out in the Snif City Hotel Pool Room all day to listen to that song. XD
Scorching Dessert & Snif City
Driving through the Desert areas felt a little like padding since you had to keep backtracking everywhere, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the Purple Streamer later, so in hindsight it’s less annoying. Lol.
Snif City has a fun design and I loved exploring it, along with the desert area. The Luigi cameo was pretty fun (as was the intentional game over I triggered to see the animation lol).
Professor Toad is a fun partner character, though I will admit I got stuck for a while because I didn’t realize you could use him to dig in spots that weren’t glowing (oops).
Olivia singing to raise the temple was a treat.
The Fire Vellumental
This temple is how I found out the game makes stuff easier if you fail too many times. There was a jumping area where you have to only jump on blocks that light up and I failed so many times it dropped all the blocks you couldn’t jump on. Uh. Oops. XD
The Fire Vellumental has my favorite design. It’s basically Moltres and Olivia looks awesome as a fire bird.
The Temple of Shrooms and Hole Punch
This might be my favorite Stationary Lair & Fight. The temple was great to explore. The Faceless Toads were fun and creepy. And oh my gosh the DJ dance room caught me so off guard I couldn't help but laugh.
Great music. Great Boss.
The fact he wouldn’t come out unless everyone was partying was fantastic. The fight itself was also pretty fun with the guy hole-punching Mario and having to find your pieces on the grid. The Hole Punch’s theme “Disco Devil” is also so good I can’t take it. Who gave a song a right to be that catchy?
I loved every second of this temple & fight.
Captain T.Ode
And then of course everything ends with Professor Toad finding the Toad he was looking for, finishing out his mini story arc. And using your fire powers to free him (And after the Shangri-Spa Toads worked so hard, too!! Lol).
The Purple Streamer
This is the only area of the game I didn’t like. It had a few good moments (Luigi and the Mushroom Island, a few of the puzzles islands) but overall I wanted to get through it as fast as possible and almost rage quit at one point.
The only saving grace was the ending with the Stationary Boss.
The Great Sea
It took me way too long to realize I had to take the boat out into the mist before it would prompt Captain T.Ode getting his submarine. WAY TOO LONG. I was sailing around aimlessly and screaming in the Museum wondering why the guy didn’t come get the Marino yet for like a solid thirty minutes.
Everything about this area was slow. Swimming from Island to Island. The loading screens between the Submarine sections. The small Island puzzles.
Just. Ug.
And of course when I find out I can upgrade the boat to go faster I didn’t have enough coins. So I had to go to another area to fight baddies to get coins and come back. XD
Even meeting Olly’s creator on an island (with a great Luigi sequence) was a disappointment. It was so short and all we really learned was that Olly is the one who made Olivia (which makes him more her Dad than her Brother...which I have talked bout before but will let the topic drop here for now). And that was IT.
Give me a flashback to Olly being made. Give me more of a hint to what the Origami Maker wrote to make the kid go nuts. Just. Something. Anything! *throws hands in the air*
The Ice Vellumental
This temple was annoying. The sliding ice puzzles were just...no. They aren’t actually that bad. I was just really burned out from all the sailing when I got to this temple and was in a bad mood. I’ll be fair--the temple itself was fine.
(Except for one area where you had to climb the stairs while dodging falling boulders and I kept messing up  my jumps and having to do it over and ARRRGH).
BUT THE BEAR.
I hate the bear. I had my first game over with the bear. I nearly rage Quit with the bear. And I beat him EVENTUALLY with 10 HP and because the game had pity on me and stuck the 1000 Arms Technique panel on the outer row.
I was fine up until the “Memorize the path and recreate it” section. The path would look easy. I’d remember where it was. But then the rings would get shuffled and I could not recreate the path for the life of me. I tried it so many times. I failed so many times.
*stares into the distance* 
I watched a Youtube Tutorial that beat that boss in five minutes. It took me like an hour. There is a special type of frustration that comes from “I know what I need to do and I know the trick but I can’t seem to make it work.”
The Three Trials
I paid coins to make these easier. I was so done with everything by that point, that failing the stupid Strength Trial twice in a row was enough to just. End me. XD
The Sea Tower and Tape
A shining light in a horrible Streamer. Lol. The Tower was fun to climb and I got excited for the Tape boss.
Who did not disappoint.
His greaser Punk personality and calling Olly “Boss” was the first thing that made me really grin this entire streamer. Even Tape’s fight gimmick taping the panels down was almost a relief and a much easier fight than the Ice Vellumental.
I loved the Tape fight. XD
The Green Streamer
Aka “Kamek is awesome and bless the Bowser Minions.”
Shangri-Spa
I liked this area more than I thought I would. When I first got there and saw the theme of Angel Toads I was like “Why” and then I saw Bower’s fallen Castle, met all the minions paying off their debt cleaning, and Olivia thought Kamek was a housekeeper.
Bless all of it.
And then Bowser Jr. gets cut into pieces by a pair of scissors and it was like “Oh, shit.”
You fix him of course, but the implications were like “Dude, those scissors killed Bowser Jr.” I honestly think one of the reasons they leaned so much harder into the “paper” aesthetic was to get away with more violence/darker content. The entire Scissors lair and fight is the perfect example. It sort of follows TV and Cartoon logic - if it’s not human, you can get away with a LOT more violence (like robots getting ripped apart or derezzing characters in Tron).
It’s not actual gore, but if you think about what it symbolizes, it really hits you (and why Mario Game Overs getting cut in half instead of reviving with his Green Mushroom).
You get a small break after that exploring all the Spas and their mini puzzles to fix Bowser Jr. The Jungle Area is the longest of which and has some nice scripted Game Overs that are fun to trigger and Olivia, Kamek, and Bowser Jr. have a good “Pick me!” scenario that gets repeated.
The boss of his area is also Macho Chain Chomp which is a win in my book because Chain Chomp is Best Mario Baddie.
(I love Chain Chomps. I have a Chain Chompette on my Keychain.)
Bowser’s Castle & Scissors
I noticed a lot of people saying Scissors was their favorite Stationary Boss and I didn’t quite get why until this Castle & Fight. He’s not knocking Hole Punch out of the way on my own list (Seriously that Boss fight music), but he is up there on the “Dude” factor.
Scissors is creepy. He is a literal sadist who tortures everyone he gets his hand on. His shadow paper minions are creepy and have cool Ring Battles.
The mutilated minions he used to make up a paper Macho Buzzy Beetle was dark if you thought about it too long - but it was a great Kamek moment. XD
Scissors himself had a great “I want a challenge!” attitude and his fight was intense.
I also screwed up and broke the blade guard on the first turn and uh. I died very quickly. XD That note that says “DO NOT BREAK THE GUARD” wasn’t kidding. I’m not super at timing action commands, so uh, jumping over the blades didn’t work out so well (especially when Scissors started cheating...).
Second time went much better. I figured out how to time attacks to avoid hitting his guard. I got to see the awesome cut scene where he took the guard off. I actually dodged a hit. I had fun. XD
And then Bowser enters the scene for the final areas of the game. Whoooo!
Finale
Bowers’ Air Ship appearance was epic. Very cinematic and I loved how he was like “I might use this against you later.”
Mario and Bowser team ups never fail to disappoint, honestly.
The air battle was messed up.
After that entire scene with Bobby in the Blue Streamer...I am now firing Bob-ombs at planes freely and in mass numbers because I have bad aim. I just. I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry. XD
The crash landing and the race out of the volcano were fun, though.
Peach’s Castle & Olly’s Castle
Luigi finally brought us the right key. I haven’t talked about Luigi much, but every single one of his appearances brought a smile with them. I loved how he had a key in every chapter like clockwork, and even now, he came through.
Bowser talking about Luigi was also pretty great. XD
But most importantly:
I love Olly. His few appearances here desperately made me wish there had been more of him earlier. He’s a dramatic little brat and I want to hug him.
The transformation of Peach’s Castle to Olly’s Origami one? Amazing. One of my favorite cut scenes in the game.
Fighting the Origami Castle itself? Eh. Aside from the great music tracks, it was a little tedious. It lacked the cool levels of the earlier Boss Areas and was mostly “use 1000 folding arms” to progress. I didn’t hate the area, but it was a bit of a let down.
Stapler was nice though. He was a good dog. That I crushed in combat. o-o
King Olly
His throne room covered in Paper Cranes is my favorite designed room & man, I wish I remembered to take more screen shots. It was so creepy and so dark and it looked so good with this tiny paper King sitting alone next to an empty throne since Olivia “Betrayed” him. 
I loved how his castle still had Olivia everywhere. Like they were meant to be together, but still separated. So good. T-T
The Princess Peach reveal was also so creepy and great.
But also made me wish for more cut scenes. Why did Olly want to make her into the wall? Why did he want her quiet? Did she annoy him? Or What? Tell me, game. Tell me!
Aesthetically it made the room look perfect though as his creepy little room. XD
As far as Olly's motivations go...I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, yes, it’s a little shallow. “A Toad wrote on me so now I’m going to destroy all flat paper beings and make them origami!” is sure...a thing. But I’m also a fan of Evil Characters that are just...evil. Maybe Olly really did just want to make everything Origami so they were like him. He was the first “Living” Origami creature and maybe he was just lonely. That’s why he made Olivia and wanted everyone to be like him. 
But that’s also reading into it...and makes me want to write a fanfic exploring it, but this is a review. XD
I’m fine with “Olly was looking for any excuse to go nuts and take over the world and the writing will just have to do.” Even if it does make his little “I guess I lost so now I’m redeemed” moment feel forced. XD
The Fights
The Bowser Origami Sumo vs Giant Olly thing was...okay. I get what they were going for, but it kinda missed the mark with me.
The Actual Olly fight? Oh lord. I had to do it like 10 times.
I failed the Action commands...a lot. Which meant a lot of game overs since I went into the fight with like 40 health (I may or may not be bad at jumping and the Sumo fight throwing stars may or may not have wrecked my health) and didn’t doge Olly's attacks.
Thankfully the game made the ring puzzle easier each time so I could actually finish it.
And it only took me 4 times to get the action commands right? XD Something like that.
I DID IT which is the point.
(This is a case of “If I was better at gaming I would have loved the fight” but my poor skills made it longer and more tedious than it should have been - only’s awesome speech at the beginning loses its bite after the fourth time hearing it.)
The Final Cut Scene
Olivia saying Goodby to Olly had me teary eyed. Her holding his little hand. Reading the message their creator left. Olly’s request for her to make him into the last crane.
Olivia’s freaking WISH. Knowing that She, herself, was one of Olly’s creations.
The cut scene was beautiful. The cranes. The light. The castles’ return.
The party at the end. The two little empty thrones.
I was sniffing through the (very well done and great to watch) credits.
Olivia was such a good girl and I miss her and Olly so much.
This ending was the perfect example of “Wouldn’t change it because it made me sad in a good way but Bless Fanfics and their “Everyone Lives” alternate universes.”
THE END
The game had a few hiccups but overall? I loved it. I can very easily see how “Your first Paper Mario is your favorite” is going to hold true. Wonderful game.
I might have to actually go back and try to 100% the game to get that extra ending I’ve seen spoiled.
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chapitre7 · 7 years
Text
I’ll Be Here, To Shelter You
Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo [달의 연인-보보경심 려] fanfiction
Modern Setting AU
Age Difference AU
Wang So/Hae Soo
Soundtrack
I can’t deny it’s gorgeous that a brain sees what its experience has trained it to see. If you’ve never known love it’s clear you’d mistake it for something else. Loneliness perhaps. Greed. — Lindsay Hunter
   Life used to be a blur of reactions. The reaction of tears when his mother yelled at him. The reaction of her tears at his tears, her body never moving from its spot by the front door, waiting for a man that was never coming back. The reaction of punches, deflections and advances, the fights almost a dance behind the old school building. Eating when he felt hungry. Sleeping when he felt tired. He used to feel tired a lot. There were reactions in his dreams, too, running, always running, and falling and drowning. He won all of his fights in real life but in his dreams, he never won. He wanted to win, but he always seemed to forget he was dreaming, there was always the anticipation, the longing, the hope. But father never showed up in his dreams. Father never showed up again.
There had been a new man. There had been a new brother. His mom gave up screaming at him to focus on the new brother, to coddle him up, to hug him and sing at him. It was back then that he discovered that his hands, hands that always hit the target and had made many bleed, could hold something — someone — so gently. He only held his brother once before his mother forbade him, lest he contaminated the child, dropped him or killed him. He would never do that. Never wanted to. He wanted to be called brother, to be called anything, and to have someone wait for him when he came home. His mother kicked him out when he graduated. With his grades, he would never find a good job and would never provide the family with anything, he was one more mouth to feed, one more burden. His brother watched him go and he could hear him wailing for what seemed like miles. He never understood why he cried. A reaction. Everything had been reactions.
He didn’t go to college, his mother was right about that. He worked many jobs, the hands that used to punch teeth now carried boxes, organized shelves, gave customers their change. He cooked for himself when he felt hungry. Slept when he felt tired. He felt livelier those days, wasn’t tired from nothing at all but from the strain of work. Food had taste, especially when he accidentally used too much seasoning, when he accidentally burned his dinner. His hands had calluses on them. The days felt shorter.
The boy spent the years towards adulthood wanting more than reactions. He would avoid the dark alleys where gangs planned to take him in. He would avoid bumping into people on the street, twisting and turning and avoiding eye contact. You’re a rotten apple, his mother used to tell him, but he wasn’t, he had never done anything to anyone. He knew people better than her, had spent nothing but years of looking at people, of knowing them, of understanding their violence and indifference. He didn’t bring the worst in people, some people just lived in their worst, the absolute worst they could be, and he didn’t want to get caught up in it. He just wanted not to fall in his dreams. Not to bleed. Not to die.
Sometimes he dreamed about his brother’s tears when he left, and he woke up thinking about how he would look like as a grade school student. The tiny hand he had touched would fit better in his own hand. Mother would never say he was a rotten apple. If she did, she would be wrong. But she wouldn’t.
As he worked in a convenience store, he met not only the worst, but also the better people. Elderly people who said he should get a haircut. Students who sat with a bowl of instant noodles and fell asleep on their books during his graveyard shifts. Girls who smiled and spoke softly. Children who carried nothing but change. Men who smiled at their partner’s texts and forgot they were standing in line for a second or two or five. He saw them all, just like he saw the shadows out the corner of his eyes and the items pushed off the shelves and onto the floor, laughter ringing in his ears along with the broken glass of beers. The better. The worst. They walked in and out of his life and he watched them go. He watched them all go.
Jung would be ten soon. He sometimes scribbled what he thought Jung would look like in a small notepad he kept by the register. There were several other sketches along with Jung’s, of the many people he had encountered. He held the pencil firmly and most of the time his sketches were filled with heavy strokes. The lead dirtied the back of his hand and sometimes the sleeve of his shirt. The birth of every character on the notepad was no reaction.
When he saw the ad for an art class, he wondered if it was too late. If he was too old. If it was even worth it. But it was something different, something new, and he wanted to get rid of the voice in the back of his mind that was sure his life would never amount to anything. Maybe it wouldn’t. He enrolled anyway.
There were many girls, most of which quickly began to chatter amongst themselves. He tried to tune them out as he always did, tried to focus on his assignments. He liked shading, enjoyed sitting at different spots of the room and drawing from different perspectives. It was silent when everyone worked and for the first time he was somewhere he liked.
He noticed her as the weeks passed. He always seemed to find her, even when they were on opposite sides of the room. She would stick her tongue out sometimes as she worked, or she would bite her lower lip. When her long bangs fell closer to her eyes, she would shake her head or blow them away and once, just once, she tucked them behind her ear and accidentally smudged her cheek with charcoal. He was sitting across from her and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Everyone heard him and he tried to disguise it, cleared his throat, and looked away on the same instant she looked at him. He worked and counted the seconds before he looked at her again and she looked puzzled, head titled to the side, black smudge still on her cheek. She always seemed to concentrate so hard on her drawing and she smiled big at the end of every class. He had never interacted with anyone in any class he had ever taken, had never had the opportunity or the subject or the context, but as he passed behind her and saw her drawing that day, he said,
“It looks good.”
He walked away before she turned or replied. He knew kind words could brighten anyone’s day, he had enjoyed the concern of strangers before, although rare, especially if rare, but he didn’t think much of it until the next class, when she sat down just beside him and gave him a big grin.
“I’m Hae Soo. What’s your name?”
He stared at her for a couple of seconds.
“...Wang So.”
Her mouth formed an “oh” before she repeated it. Tilting her head to the side, she said, “It sounds like royalty.”
She was wearing her school uniform that day, her hair tied back with a clip, her bangs cut neatly along the line of her eyebrows. Facing her smile, he didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t even thank her, so quickly she turned back to their instructor when he entered. On that day, he drew inanimate objects in class but at home, he drew the red of her tie and her hair framing her face. Another face for the notepad, another page turned, covered, forgotten.
He thought so.
The next time, Hae Soo said, “I can’t wait until we get to life drawing classes.” Her cheeks were rosy, in a perfect balance with her skin tone. In his mind, he browsed through his colored pencils for the perfect color to match, and the gloss on her lips. He discovered Hae Soo liked eyeliner and used a different color every day that she spoke to him. Sometimes she wore her uniform, sometimes she talked to the other girls. Sometimes she just sat and drew, and true to her word, she focused best during life drawing classes. He didn’t get to glimpse her work again, but he hoped she was thriving. She was friendly and subdued and had a beautiful smile; he hoped she was doing well.
She let out a cheerful “Ah!” when she stopped by his convenience store. He had never seen her around before and he wondered if the store was even in her usual route. He gave her a small smile in return for her grin and he knew she was going to talk by the way she balanced herself between her heels and the balls of her feet.
“So, do you want to do art for a living?”
He looked up at her eyes, big, round and eager, and then looked down to tell her the price of her items.
“I don’t know,” he answered, slowly packing her purchase. After he handed it to her, he could have leaned back in his chair but he leaned forward, in her direction. “Do you?”
“I’m not sure, myself,” she replied, letting out a laugh that felt less sincere than her usual actions. “But I wanted to do something with colors, you know? I figured I’d learn from the basics but...” She shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
“What about college?”
Everyone talked about college. He should have figured it was a subject that brought anxiety and restlessness but he, himself, had never fretted over it. He missed it entirely, sometimes. The different ways people reacted.
Hae Soo waved her hand dismissively and he could tell the second her eyes looked away, looked smaller and darker, and then back at him, her usual smile on her face, the subject forgotten entirely.
“Will you let me see your drawings?”
Instinctively, he gently pushed his notepad farther away from view. She never caught it, she just waited there, hands clasped together, no other person in the store but the two of them. It was already dark outside. Hae Soo should have been home.
“Now?”
The corners of her lips turned upwards.
“Do you have a sketchbook with you?”
“...No, do you?”
She shook her head.
“Can I see them in our next class?”
“If you show me yours.”
Hae Soo tapped her lips in deep thought for a second or two before nodding.
“Deal.”
She seemed awed when she saw them, especially the monochrome drawings. He didn’t think he fared well with colors, not yet, but he liked his sketches, and so did Soo, from the looks of it. “It’s so sharp,” she commented, and he didn’t know if it was a compliment or just an observation, so he just let her look. In return, he browsed through her sketchbook and found that she did much better with colors than him, her drawings never outlined with darker colors when she could help, the precise force applied on her wrist and movements, never exaggerated. Maybe he was being overly self-critical. Soo’s monochrome sketches looked clumsy, shy, as if she wasn’t sure it was being done right. Maybe that’s why she smudged her face with charcoal. He chuckled at the memory. Hae Soo looked up at him expectantly and he could only think of saying,
“You can do something with colors.”
Her black eyeliner turned the corners of her eyes upwards that day. Nothing too sharp — just like her drawings — but he could see the elegant line when she closed her eyes briefly and bowed to him in thanks. He drew it that night, the schoolgirl with a bow at the end of her braid and eyes of a cat.
One rainy day, when they both didn’t bring an umbrella and had to wait before they could make a run for the bus stop, Hae Soo threw to the wind,
“Maybe I’ll drop out of the art class.”
He snapped his head in her direction, the sudden admission almost drowned out amidst the sound of the falling rain. Hae Soo brought her open palm forward, drenching it, drenching the sleeve of her school jacket, but unmoving. She wasn’t wearing any make-up. Her eyes were small and downcast.
“Why?”
He kept his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, sealing their movement, sealing the impulse to reach out and bring her hand — her — away from the raindrops. While he waited for her answer, he felt a warmth he thought he had forgotten, a long, long time ago. Amongst his chaos, there had been Jung. Amongst the rain, there was Hae Soo.
“My cousin thinks I should focus on my studies.”
“Your cousin?”
She took her hand out of the rain, shaking the drops away.
“She’s my guardian.”
He nodded. There was silence between them but he didn’t like the look on her face. Was it a reaction, then? He spoke.
“And have you figured out what you want to do?”
Hae Soo looked at her hand, and then she answered.
“Do you think it’s okay for me to not go to college?”
“I didn’t.”
When she looked up at him with wide eyes, it was much more familiar than the downcast look. He couldn’t help giving her a lopsided smile.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She gave him she same awed interjection she directed at his name. It made him feel strangely proud of himself. He wondered if she did it on purpose.
“And you live by yourself? Fend for yourself?”
“Ever since I graduated.”
“You’re impressive, Wang So.”
He shook his head. His eyes looked at the rain but he saw the door shutting in his face.
“I didn’t have much of a choice, back then.” He looked back at her. “Your cousin seems to care for you. You should consider carefully.”
Her smile and awe faded away like she had been scolded. He thought the conversation had ended for the day, maybe forever, if she did leave, but she spoke again.
“I really wanted to sing.”
He blinked.
“Sing?”
“My cousin never even considered it. She said it was dangerous, to live like that.”
He was thinking about her voice, about her singing, when she suddenly waved and ran away in the rain. Hae Soo, the schoolgirl, who had a loving family but was still as lost as he was in regards to the future. When he sketched, he caught himself thinking of her, of her hands flipping through his sketchbook, of his drawings coloring the tip of her fingers black. He drew her looking at the rain, hand outstretched, choices and chances at the horizon.
She did drop out, but he still saw her. She’d stop by with friends, chatting and giggling and they didn’t talk. She’d stop by herself and tell him how much she missed drawing, how she would study and study and still her grades were average and then ask what his favorite subjects in school were. He told her that sometimes he slept through class like some kind of misunderstood, dormant artist and she rolled her eyes, not knowing it was because his mother was up all night thrashing the house. She’d buy instant noodles and sit down to study, just like every other student he had seen, but he kept an eye out so no one would disturb her, the schoolgirl studying after dark. Sometimes she would stick out her tongue out, deep in thought. He still laughed to himself.
“Do you have siblings?” She asked when he gave her a protein bar after she started stretching, tired from all the reading and writing.
“Me?” There was no other person she could have asked. She raised one eyebrow to show she thought so. “I have a younger brother.”
“How old is he?”
“He’s ten.”
She beamed at him.
“You must be a doting brother.”
He blinked.
“What makes you think that?”
She twirled her finger in his general direction.
“You’re quiet and all but you look after people in your own way, instead of just brooding in your leather jacket.”
“Thank you for validating my personality, Miss Hae.” He smiled despite himself. “Is that what you were expecting?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t really know what I was expecting.” She laughed and scratched her head before bowing back into her exercises. He leaned against one of the shelves and watched her for a few minutes.
“You should go home, Hae Soo, it’s getting late.”
Soo looked at her wristwatch and let out a little shriek. She picked up her phone and whispered something before typing out a message.
“My cousin is going to kill me.” She started collecting her things. “Do you think she’ll believe me if I tell her I was studying?”
“Do you ever lie to her?”
She looked offended. “No!”
“Then she should. Don’t freak out, just be careful on your way back.”
She held her notebook to her chest and pointed at him, grinning.
“Aha! See?”
Wang So rolled his eyes.
“Get out of my store, Hae Soo.”
“As far as I know, you don’t own it— I’m going, please don’t threaten me with physical violence!” She let out a little fake scream before storming out the door and he put the bag of chips back in its place.
On the week before Hae Soo’s exams, she came up to him and gave him a drawing. It wasn’t her style — a sketch done in charcoal, monochrome, serious. You could see the man from the chest up, long hair half-covering the left eye, his mouth a line — not menacing, not smiling, just a line, waiting for something to happen, for someone to talk to him. Intricate designs adorning his robes, jewels adorning his hair. Royalty.
It was him.
“It’s a thank you gift,” she said. She wore peach lipstick that day. He thought he had a pencil to match the color.
“What are you thanking me for?”
Hae Soo tilted her head. “For the company, of course. And for encouraging me. And for being my friend.”
“I didn’t know people got thanked for being someone’s friend,” he said, and he meant it to be a joke but a fragment of genuine surprise slipped past his defenses.
“They should be. It’s something worth celebrating.” She clasped her hands together and looked between him and the drawing. “What do you think?”
He looked down at the drawing that was very similar to his style, but still had her own touch; the shading was softer than he would have made, the movement on the hair making it blend with the background, fading away, just like her figure, retreating into the falling rain.
“It looks like a character from a historical drama.” He raised his eyebrows at her, his smile amused. “I thought you’ve been studying.”
“Don’t judge people’s hobbies, Wang So, it’s very impolite.” She blew her bangs away from her eyes. “I wanted him to look like a prince.”
“Why?”
She was not wearing her uniform that day. Soo color-coordinated her entire wardrobe, from her shoes to her nails, and it was pleasing to the eyes, soothing — cute, he thought, when she shrugged and played with her sleeves.
“It fits.”
He smiled at her.
“Thank you. It looks great.”
“Really?” Soo looked down at her own drawing with wide eyes and grinned. “I—”
Her phone started ringing. Soo looked at the caller’s ID and sighed.
“It’s my cousin. I need to go. I’ll see you after my exams!” She said, waving, and was already answering the call, her hand on the door handle, when he called out,
“Don’t forget to get plenty of sleep! Good luck!”
She stopped and turned to him. He noted down the shape of her eyes when she smiled the widest.
“Aha! See?”
She didn’t stop by the entire week. In class, no one was interested in communicating with words, just the pencil, just the brush, and he was used to it. He was supposed to be. But the silence felt heavy after an abundance of chatter, an abundance of her. He reminisced about her, and it was different from thinking about Jung, whom he still thought about, whom he still dreamed about. Jung was wishes and ideals and hopes and the far past. Soo was just yesterday, the condensed breath on the window on cold days, present, the present, he could perfectly envision her hairband and the many colors of her nails. I really wanted to sing. He wished her wishes could come true.
He was leaving his shift, one foot out the door, when she came back. He thought she really ought to stop walking around town after dark.
“Hey,” he greeted. She waved, a subdued smile on her lips. She must have been tired.
“Are you going home?” She asked. After he nodded, she moved swiftly, almost hopped to his side. “I’ll walk you.”
He scoffed.
“You’re walking me home?” Soo nodded and he clicked his tongue. “This girl... I’ll walk you to your neighborhood. You shouldn’t make your cousin worry.”
She didn’t argue or complain, she just nodded and they started walking, So following her lead at street signs and corners. She was unusually quiet.
“How did it go?”
Soo clasped her hands behind her back, tilting her head to the side. She was wearing a red beret that day, no bangs to fall into her eyes.
“It went well. No outstanding grades, but enough.”
He hummed and nodded, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. For a while they just walked, until they had to wait for the red sign to turn green and Soo spoke again.
“I’m going to become a make-up artist.”
He looked at her; she looked at the street sign.
“It’s what I’ve decided to do.” She smiled and he thought it looked shy. “I think I want to help bring something to people. The colors they want to see. The person they want to be. Do you think it’s silly?” She looked up at him and he had never seen her anxious before.
“I think it’s a goal. It’s better to have a goal than aimlessly move forward.”
Before his eyes, he saw the woman sitting in front of the door. The days that turned into months. The wait.
Living is better.
He looked down at her and saw that she was smiling more than before and he smiled back, a weight lifted off their shoulders. He liked it, taking care of her weight. Taking care. He sparsely cooked for himself those days, and so many nights were spent awake, in tosses and turns, but taking care of others was easy. It was so easy.
The weight he carried was harder to come to terms with. There was the concept of it, a concept so widespread, so universal, so simple, the simplicity behind her smile, the admiration in his chest at every new discovery about her, and yet. And yet...
He saw the light had turned green and was ready to cross when Soo took hold of his arm and pulled him back to the sidewalk. A car sped past them, horn deafening, a sound only obscured by the beats of his own heart in his ears.
“That was close!” She frowned at him. “You should be careful! What if I hadn’t been here? Are you okay?”
He brought a hand to his eyes, the arm not in Soo’s grasp, the cars’ lights still flashing before him.
“Yeah, I was just... Sorry. We should go.”
Soo didn’t let go of his arm, not while they crossed, not on the other side. She kept her arm around his and he didn’t think of asking her not to.
“What about you?”
He looked down at her.
“Hmm?”
“What’s your goal? Have you finished your portfolio yet?”
“Well...”
Soo sighed dramatically.
“No one’s going to hire you if you don’t try, you know?”
“Yes, Soo, I do actually know that.”
“Don’t use the condescending tone if you’re at fault, Wang So.”
“All right, I’m sorry, okay?”
She stopped when they reached the next crossroad, under the streetlight. She let go and turned to him and he knew the walk was over. He felt it had been short.
“You’re tired, aren’t you? You’re dozing off and snappier than usual.”
“I’m not snappy.”
“Argumentative, then, is that better?”
She brushed his bangs away and placed the back of her hand against his forehead. It felt cold. Her body, from that distance, from that proximity, felt warm.
“You don’t seem sick... You should rest today, okay?” She took a step back and smiled. “I can walk from here, my house is just around the corner. Oh, and don’t skip dinner!”
“Yes, mom.”
She laughed.
“Funny, that’s what I always tell my cousin and now I know how she feels.”
“She’ll come around, Soo.”
Soo blinked. So almost took a step in her direction.
“Your cousin. Don’t worry too much. She seems to care about you, so she’ll accept your decision if you put your heart into it.”
Color-coordinating Soo and her beret matching her lip-gloss, smiling and waving and walking away. Walking home, he thought he should get her something on her graduation day, but not flowers. It couldn’t be flowers. Or it could? It could.
There was a light in her eyes when he gave her the flowers. Flowers the color of the sky, the color of the rain, hydrangeas; flowers of her favorite colors, the colors of the eye shadow she wore the most, the ribbon of her uniform. He chose every color carefully, hoping he could emulate a fragment of her love for colors. He learned a little bit that day, all by himself, just trying to please her. There is always learning when you think about someone. When you do something for them. There is always something more to know. Like her gesture, holding the paper to her chest, her bow, and how it almost hurt to smile too much.
“Don’t slack off, now,” he pointed, just to say it, just for the sake of normalcy, but she took it well, she shook her fists and declared she was going to do her best.
He knew he would see her less now that she had different classes to attend, new things to learn, and money to earn to make everything possible. And he only had so many hours, he had so many boxes to carry. There was a used book store that he helped with because the owner was a nice old lady with back problems, the place always smelling of tea and time, old, old time, and the convenience store and the graveyard shifts and the portfolio he perfected and gathered up the courage to present, to show off, his work. It was baring. It was hard. No one’s going to hire you if you don’t try. He wondered if she was doing well. If she would stop by.
She did.
Barging through the door, a force of nature, a force in her steps. It was always night. Only the artificial light shone on her braid, on her smile. She wandered around the store and he watched her, she watched him, her fingers browsing through the shelves he arranged meticulously, heels clicking against the floor he had cleaned earlier, as if he had been waiting for her, as if he had known. She came up to him with a couple of items and he was about to say something after she paid, the words were already on their way out when she asked,
“Can I try something?”
He blinked and agreed and she made her way behind the counter, taking something out of her purse — a pencil, held it in her hand, and she was standing in front of him and looking down at him with a wicked smile on her lips.
“Wait, what are you—”
“It’ll only take a couple of minutes! Hold still.”
“Soo, I’m working! You can’t—”
“No one will come, now be quiet.”
“Lots of people come here regularly, actually!”
“Close your eyes, Wang So.”
He knew at the moment she said it that only physical force would make her back down and he wasn’t keen on it, the thought of potentially harming her scared him, and so he did the only thing he could do: he stood still. He could feel her breath on his face as she worked on his eyes, and he only hoped that she hadn’t been practicing theater make-up. However, Soo wasn’t really a prankster, she liked beauty, she had a particular aesthetic, so he only hoped his boss didn’t check the security feed, not in that moment. Perhaps, not ever.
Soo was right when she said it’d only take a few minutes. She asked him to open his eyes but she didn’t back away, she didn’t put the pencil away. She applied only a soft pressure and he felt like she was bringing life into him. He felt like her character, her creation. One that she knew well, knew his corners, his edges, his triggers. A character with a better past. An even better future. He wasn’t. He was just himself, one breath away from her.
“I kept thinking about this during my make-up classes. Maybe I do watch too many historical dramas.” She giggled. “It’s something so simple but outlining your eyes really brings them into focus...”
No one came in. It was just them, and her words trailing off. Her hands stopped moving and just lied there, against his face. The laughter that had been in her, disappeared. He usually saw this Soo when she worked, when she was drawing, but even then she had her quirks. She looked into his eyes and he wasn’t sure if she was looking at the make-up anymore. His mind drew a blank in the silence.
“I’ve missed you.”
His eyes widened at her bluntness, at her honesty. The clock didn’t have the chance to click more than one second before she closed the distance between them. In his shock, he didn’t close his eyes, he saw a blur of her eyelashes, her perfume surrounding and surrendering his senses when he inhaled. His instinct would have made him back away, as if her kiss was a punch, the violence he was used to, but she held his face and he couldn’t escape. One. Two. Three. When she backed away, he could feel her lip-gloss sticky on his lips.
She waited. She definitely waited, her hands hanging in the air, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. But his eyes were still wide, his heart still beating fast, a hundred things going through his mind. He didn’t speak, didn’t stand, didn’t move. The clock ticked. One. Two. Three. Hae Soo blew air through her nose and stepped away from him, backwards, not breaking eye contact, until she was on the other side of the counter and grabbing her shopping bag and running through the door, as swiftly as she had come in.
When the door fell back into place, he knew he had made a mistake.
Looking into his mirror at home, he saw that she made him look like some kind of music star. What had she been thinking in her classes?
I wanted him to look like a prince.
What did she see?
He thought about her on windy days. On rainy days. On days when the sun dried the rain on the asphalt. He thought about seeing her in that sunlight, when it was warmer, brighter, vivid. She was just starting what he had started so long ago, it was just the beginning, still no sleepless nights, still no sore muscles or waiting for potential employers to call back. If he were her age, if they had attended school together, she probably wouldn’t get involved with him, not with the kid who fought, the kid who fought back, who talked back, who slept through classes, not him, not the...
You’re a rotten apple.
His breath felt heavy in the darkness of his room. He dreamed of her. The only woman he had known. He fought the thought of her with thoughts of Soo and it was better and worse at the same time, the loneliness engulfing him, the longing, wanting to hold her in his arms. He missed her presence walking through the aisles, her hand waving at him through the glass door. Always by herself. It had been a while since he saw her with school friends. Where did they all go?
What do you know, Wang So?
As the days passed, he thought about things he didn’t know about her and that he wanted to know. What kind of people she knew. What kind of food she liked. What kind of voice she had when she sang. Above all, he wanted to see if she was improving her skills, if she was as content with her classes as she was before she started taking them. He wanted to see her happy. She was crying when she left.
She was crying when she came back.
It looked like she had been waiting outside until his shift ended; her cheeks were flushed and she ran her hands up and down her arms.
“Soo...”
“I’m sorry,” she said, directed at him but looking at the sidewalk. “You can forget it all, I’ll just— I want to be friends. I don’t want to not see you.”
He touched her arms, felt the cold fabric and saw the tears in her eyes before he pulled her into his embrace. He felt her tense up immediately.
“No!” She pushed him but he held her tightly, he had gone for so long without her, it was all he could think about. “Stop, I don’t want your pity!” She kept struggling and crying and he let her go, there were so many things he was doing wrong, but he didn’t step back. She wiped away her tears. “Don’t, I just... Can we go back to how we were, or did I ruin everything?’
“Soo.”
She sniffed and looked up at him.
“I’ve missed you.”
Hae Soo crouched on the sidewalk, her hands covering her face, something akin to a whimper coming out of her. He heard her muttering under her breath but he couldn’t make out what it was, and he refrained from laughing or chuckling, as much as he wanted to. Soo’s honesty had always made him feel good, and he discovered that being honest had the same effect. It was unexpected, overwhelming, looking at the other person and knowing that what they were saying was true. He was always holding everything back so he never knew. What do you know?
“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
Soo got up, her cheeks red, and she nodded and started walking. So would look at her but she kept looking forward. It took him a few minutes, some time between being absorbed in her presence and shyness and actually looking, to realize something was different about her. Her hair, long and wavy and usually pretty in a sideways braid, was short, brushing against the collar of her jacket.
“You got a haircut.”
Soo flinched visibly.
“I did it on a whim. I’m still not used to styling it.”
She touched the ends of her hair, a pout on her lips. He kept his hands inside his pockets so he wouldn’t touch it himself.
“It looks good. It makes you look less like a highschooler.”
“I graduated a while ago!”
“You still looked 16.”
She pushed him and he laughed.
“So how’s the make-up artist plan going?”
She perked up.
“I’m learning a lot of things! The models that stop by so we can practice are so pretty. Our instructor even praised me this week, I think she’s going to recommend me for a job position. Something simple, but I’m still excited.”
She hopped and waved her arms around and she poked him on the shoulder.
“What about you?”
“I finished my portfolio,” he said, smiling and a little proud. “I’m still unsure on where to begin.”
Soo tapped her chin.
“My cousin’s husband is an academic and he’s published papers... I can ask him if he knows anyone in the publishing scene that might need an illustrator.”
“Ah, you don’t need to do that, Soo.”
She shrugged, her smile back to the way it was.
“But I want to. And he’s really nice and a little bit like my father so I think he’ll find something if I ask him.”
“You’re sly, Hae Soo. I’m actually a bit frightened.”
“Don’t give me that tone when I’m helping you.”
He walked her to the crossroad where they usually parted, and he saw, under the streetlight, that her eyes were no longer red; they just turned small, pretty, with the smile on her lips.
“I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Or you can text me.”
She let out an exaggerated gasp.
“You’ll actually answer?”
“You speak as though I’ve never answered you.”
“Two days later doesn’t count, So.”
“...One time I fell asleep.”
She giggled.
“Really?”
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed and Soo laughed. She was already several steps away from him when he shouted.
“Hey, Soo!”
He liked the way her new, short hair flipped around when she turned.
“You look beautiful.”
Her mouth fell open and she ran away. Honesty, he thought, really did make him feel whole again.
He took up messaging her like he said he would. Sometimes he fell asleep and woke up the next morning to her messages, full of amusement, “Did you fall asleep on me again?”, emojis and wishes of a good night full of sweet dreams. They relied on them once he quit his job at the convenience store and got a job as an illustrator. It didn’t pay well and the deadlines were strict but he enjoyed it, liked helping bringing a story to life, something exciting, something he thought maybe Jung would like reading, adventures, heroes, princes. Soo insisted on seeing his on-going work and he refused, he had already planned to give her a copy of the book once it got out, the first person to see and the only opinion he wanted to hear. She would pout and sulk and he bought her ice cream to compensate. She let herself be bought and excitedly talked about her own job.
Soo always kept two steps between them. He took two steps forward whenever he could. Not boldly but carefully, words said in the early hours of the morning, I want to see you tomorrow. A gift, hairclips for the short hair she learned to style, details. Taking her hand when crossing the street. He could see the seriousness blossoming in her chest, in her expressions, in her eyes. It was time that passed, the months that added to her growth, and also the wound he inflicted. It was her self-defense, an attempt to protect her heart, even if she didn’t leave him, she never left, and he was glad she didn’t. She probably should have. It would have been better for her. But she stayed and he couldn’t lie to himself forever. Honesty. Two steps forward.
She told him she would be by the beach on that cloudy day and she was. The canvas sitting before her as she drew the sea. He had never seen her paint before. The colors were her own, mixed, blended expertly, soft. Her sky was gray but her sea was the blue of life. He liked the speckles of paint of her fingers, and the beret sitting on her head would have looked pretentious on anyone but her. It was just her style. Pastels and dresses and the red of her lips. She paused and smiled when she saw him. He offered his hand to take her to the sand, to the water, to the sea breeze. They sat together, the only people around, listening to the sounds of the beach.
“Soo,” he called, and she looked at him, smiling, unguarded. “What did you see in me?”
The smile faded.
“What?”
“What makes you want to be with me? Do I look lonely?” His words were brought softly, like shells with the waves. “You’re my first friend. I was just wondering.”
Soo held her knees to her chest but her usual nervous quirks weren’t present; there was no biting of lips or fidgeting with her sleeves. She looked away from him, the wind blowing her hair, messing it up.
“I feel comfortable with you,” she said. “It’s like you... actually pay attention. All the time. To what I do. What I say. And it makes me want to share more.” She laughed. There were no more steps between them. “I think that’s why I talk too much.”
“You don’t.”
He liked the white of her teeth and the pink of her cheeks.
“I felt... you understood.” Her fingers buried into the sand between them. “I felt you were good to me because you understood.”
“What?”
“That something was missing.”
So leaned back on his hands, spotting the seagulls in the distance.
“I haven’t seen my brother since he was three years old.”
When Soo looked at him, it wasn’t pity in her eyes as he had feared for as long as he had known her. She stretched her legs and bumped her feet together, leaning back on her hands, just like him.
“My parents are still alive. They’re just somewhere I don’t know. I haven’t seen them in eight years.”
A chuckle bubbled up in his chest and Soo smiled, falling on her back.
“Do you miss your brother?”
“Yes. Do you miss your parents?”
She shook her head.
“I love my cousin and her husband. I wouldn’t want to leave them. You know she asks me to do her make-up now?”
So moved closer to her, blocking the light from her eyes.
“She does?”
“Mmhmm. Oh! What if your brother reads the book you’re working on? I bet he’d be proud of you.”
“He doesn’t remember me, Soo.”
“But he could recognize your name. I bet he will.”
It’s like you know and understand everything.
He placed one hand on each side of her head. Her eyes went wide and barely blinked. She looked beautiful in daylight, like he expected. She always looked beautiful.
I want to know, too. You said I do but it’s not nearly enough.
Her lip-gloss was sweet. He could feel her hand on his shoulders but she didn’t push him away. Tilting his head, adjusting the angle, she responded. Neither were in any rush, in any desperate need. There was the tentative brush of lips, the ways they could come together, the sand on his hands, in her hair. The comfortable breeze. Her eyes, fluttering open, looking between his, searching, apprehensive.
“Do you believe me?” His fingers caressed her temple.
“You’re not going to... change your mind and leave me later, are you?”
“I don’t plan to. But you might.”
He loved her laughter up close.
“I don’t want to.”
He decided he liked her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Her fingers playing in his hair. And how she laughed, delighted, into the kiss. That she could be delighted with him was beyond his expectations, his dreams. She was at the beginning and he was in the middle, but they were both searching, searching for their place, and he was glad their paths crossed together, like some last-minute plan, an unexpected left turn. He didn’t want to let go of that hand. He hoped to bring her happiness like she brought him peace.
You understand.
He wanted to hear her sing.
  “So.”
He looked up from his tablet, setting his glasses down, watching as a grin broke out in her beautiful features. She still wore her work uniform, and he believed she had run to his study by the movements in her chest, even if she hadn’t barged in like she used to. Soo’s hands and gestures were gentle now, like her heart.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
He walked to their porch, running a hand through his hair, hoping to set it into some kind of acceptable look. It probably wouldn’t work well, he still looked tired, but he approached the person with a welcoming smile on his lips. The one Soo liked. The one that drew people to him.
The young man of fifteen turned to him. There was a nervousness in him, in the way he shifted the weight between one foot and the other. So’s smile faltered, and he searched for Soo behind him, felt her fingers touch his, lace with his.
“Hello, can I help—”
“...Brother?”
So’s heart skipped a beat.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Jung had their mother’s lips. His nose looked like So’s. “When I read your name for the first time, years ago, I knew it was you.”
So’s tears started to fall down at the same time as Jung’s.
“You’ve been... so close, all this time.”
Soo let go of his hand and he walked towards his little brother. He hugged him, carefully, like the first time. Jung cried against his chest, still a child. So was willing to hear everything. The years, the joys, the thoughts on his older brother, however mean and hurtful they were. The loneliness. Their paths coming together, like a crossroad.
Later, when they talked, he could always feel Soo. Her presence. Her eyes on him. Her hand in his hand. Her ring touching his, sharing his happiness. The one who always seemed to know.
“I felt you were good to me because you understood.”
“What?”
“That something was missing.”
The one who felt complete with him.
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