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saiilorstars · 2 months

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Ch. 33: Out in the Country

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic @kmc1989

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

Fanfic • Ao3 • Wattpad

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Romina never thought it would be possible to feel both heavy excitement and a heavy urge to throw up. Things were actually working out for her — like actually working. Rolf's parents, her uncle Adric and aunt Gemma, had come to their house to talk about the situation and what they hoped would be the arrangement. Romina was surprised that her uncle Lyonel managed to keep calm about the whole thing. Of course she'd already warned him that if he ruined this in any way, she would never forgive him. Blackmail, perhaps, but it worked.

At the end of the visit, it was agreed that Romina would visit her grandparents accompanied by Rolf and his parents. Neither Lyonel nor Sage felt prudent to come along for obvious reasons. Romina also suspected that Lyonel did it to avoid any conflicts during her visit, an act she would thank him for later.

"You have everything you need, right?" Sage was fixing Romina's primp curls and adjusting the collar of her blouse.

"Yes, auntie," Romina nodded fervently. It wasn't like she had checked her duffel bag over and over for the last day.

"Now remember," Lyonel stepped towards her, "If you feel bombarded or if you just want to come home, tell them. They understand that this can be difficult and they just want to make sure you're comfortable. Don't be afraid to tell them, okay?"

Romina nodded again. "Yeah."

A short moment later, their fireplace spit out the familiar face of Rolf Scamander and the semi-familiar face of his father, Adric.

"Romina!" Rolf beamed at the sight of her. "Hi!"

Romina could at least relax seeing him and knowing that he was going to be around for most of the visit. Still, when she met Adric Scamander's gaze, she drew in a shaky breath. "H-hi," she said dumbly. It was very hard accepting the fact she had another uncle.

Adric Scamander was a tall man with dark brown hair that tousled on the back. His eyes were a dark brown and the more Romina looked at him, the more she paid attention to some light freckles sprinkled over his face. "Hi Romina," he greeted her kindly. "Are you ready to go?"

Romina had no idea why she looked up at her aunt and uncle. She felt like a child who had no idea what to do. Way to stand your ground!

"Whenever you're ready, sweetheart," Sage said

Romina bit on her bottom lip. Her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her duffel bag. "I'm ready," she said, trying to act like she wasn't a nervous wreck at the moment.

"C'mon Romina," Rolf was eager for the both of them, "Grandpa's going to show you the bowtruckles—those are my favorite!"

"What's a bowtruckle?" Romina asked. Suddenly the ten times she had read their grandfather's book disappeared from her head.

Rolf chuckled and reached for his cousin's hand. "They're these little green looking creatures. Kind of like walking plants."

"I think...I think I remember reading about them…" Romina said, letting Rolf walk them back towards the fireplace. Her head would need an extra minute or so to think for just about anything right now.

The adults smiled at the pair. Lyonel felt a little more relaxed seeing Romina more willing around Rolf. Then he felt the guilt for having robbed her of the relationship. He tried reminding himself that he'd done everything he could to make sure she was safe and happy.

"We'll have her back by tomorrow," Adric told him. "Unless you all decide otherwise."

Sage nodded. "Thank you. This means a lot to her."

Adric smiled. "Believe me, it means a lot for our family too. It's like Elora isn't completely gone." The mention of his older sister was bittersweet for both sides of the family. "Alright you two," he said, turning for the teenagers, "Ready or not…"

The flames erupted in the fireplace again and in a couple seconds, Lyonel and Sage saw their niece disappear with the rest of her family.

~ 0 ~

Romina was pretty much like a statue as soon as she left the fireplace. She was well aware that she was in another home, a nice home by the looks of it, and there was also a dark haired woman waiting for them.

Gemma Scamander, Rolf's mother, was eager to meet Romina and didn't hesitate to pull the girl into a tight hug. "Oh, you have no idea how much Rolf's talked about you in these last years!"

"Mum," Rolf said through gritted teeth. "She gets it, trust me."

Gemma winced and let Romina go. "Sorry, I tend to get a little overexcited."

"I'll say," Adric came around.

Gemma lightly whacked his arm. "Anyways," she said, though her gaze lingered on her husband for a moment before she continued, "Everyone's waiting at the house but I've reminded them that it may be a while before we get there. Romina, how are you feeling?"

Romina smiled lightly. "So far, so good." I haven't thrown up yet. She had yet to release the firm grip around her duffel bag's strap too but that was something else. "Um, have I met everyone here, though?" The house was rather silent but she had no idea if Rolf had any younger or older siblings.

Adric chuckled when he presumed Romina's thoughts. "It's just us, dear. Your aunt Kassia, though, you'll want to see her."

"Then let's," Romina said, drawing in a breath. It was basically now or never.

Adric and Gemma were more than happy to get them going. As they readied to re-enter the fireplace, Romina heard Rolf's comforting words that everything was going to be fine. Everyone was waiting anxiously to meet her. There was no reason to worry about anything.

Romina had no idea what to think nor feel when she entered the fireplace and came out once again in a whole new house. The living room was beyond spacious and had a touch of vintage to it? Romina took note of the warm colors and immediately thought of autumn for some reason. She spotted several portraits on the wall, a lot of them being awards of some type.

"We're here!" Adric's loud yell made Romina flinch in her spot.

Beside her, Rolf chuckled. "Yeah, Dad's got a big voice. You should hear him when I'm in trouble."

Romina cracked a smile at him. "That's my uncle Lyonel," she said and they both shared a laugh.

"I didn't expect you to be here so soon!" They heard a woman say and before Romina could decide on who it would be, a slightly younger woman than Gemma walked into the living room. Romina's eyes widened.

She had soft blonde hair and blue eyes, but what took Romina's attention was the fact that she was very pregnant.

"Oh wow," the woman breathed when she saw Romina. "Adric, she's got Mum's—"

"I know," Adric said with a small chuckle. "First thing I thought of when I saw her. Romina?" The girl stepped forwards as soon as he called. Adric placed a hand on her shoulder. "Romina, this is your aunt Kassia. And that—" he pointed at her pregnant belly, "—is the future Willow."

"Another cousin," Romina smiled slowly.

Kassia chuckled and nodded. "Oh yes, and a rowdy one judging by the kicks."

"Oh, is she kicking again?" Gemma moved over to test her luck and see if she could feel the baby's kicks.

"Oh!" Kassia huffed. "Hasn't stopped since last night! I can't wait for her to get out!"

"Romina, we can take your stuff to the guest room," Adric said, holding a hand out for the bag. "That way you can go outside." He glanced at his sister. "I imagine that's where they are?"

Kassia scoffed. "You know Mum, everything has to be perfectly decorated."

Romina's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her grandmother. "What is she decorating?" the question left her lips before she even finished thinking it.

Kassia smiled at her. "Why don't you come out and see?" She extended her hand towards Romina and waited patiently for the girl to decide whether or not she would want to take it.

Romina wanted to meet everyone in the house so badly that she didn't think twice about handing over her duffel bag to Adric then taking Kassia's hand.

"We'll be outside, Adric," Kassia said before he took off for the stairs. "C'mon then, better get a headstart. I'm a little slower than usual."

"How long till you have your baby?" Romina found herself asling. If Lyonel or Sage had been around, she was sure to have been scolded for such an imprudent question.

Kassia merely chuckled, however, easing Romina's nerves. "About a month now. Her father and I are so excited."

"You're married?"

"Yeah, your uncle Oliver is off in France, I'm afraid. Business trip."

Kassia led the group out into the biggest yard that Romina had ever seen. In fact, it was just a big ole field. It reminded her of the country houses she sometimes saw in movies where the characters went to "get away from it all". A high wooden gate was set around the house but there was truly no need for it. There wasn't anything around them. Beautiful plants adorned both sides of the gate and at the end there was a door to the outside. The plants didn't stop by the gates, though, they were pretty much everywhere! Twinkling lights were draped in the form of curtains over the gates. A wooden table, a big one at that, resided at the center with empty plates. And for some reason, there were half dressed mannequins and others that were right empty set sporadically around. It was funny but at the same time, Romina recognized them as the special mannequins that proper designers would use.

And finally, Romina spotted a tall woman with wavy blonde hair below her shoulders that seemed to be gray in some areas. She was using her wand to prop up a brand new set of twinkling lights near the gate door. She was humming something and it took Romina a moment to realize the woman was humming something in French.

Kassia cleared her throat and called out to the woman. "Mum?"

The woman dropped the twinkling lights when she looked back and found her visitors. "Oh!" Her eyes widened.

Romina felt like she might pass out when the woman looked directly at her.

"Bienvenue!" She lowered her wand and left it carelessly on the table. She took a long stride towards the group.

Romina immediately noted the elegant robes she wore all in pastel colors. Her face was wrinkled but there was a timeless beauty to her. Her lips were pink and stretched into a wide smile.

"Grandma! It's her!" Rolf exclaimed and immediately felt his mother's hard grip on his shoulder. She wanted him to be calm right now? Of all times!?

Romina swallowed hard when her grandmother chuckled. She even laughed softly and elegantly. How does one even do that?

"Oh, I know," the woman said, "You don't think I'd recognize my own eyes?"

Romina's hand ghosted around her eyes then. "Your eyes?" she repeated.

Her grandmother chuckled. "Well of course. I suppose you could have gotten them from your father but I hardly think so. They're mine. Same shade of brown. And big." She heaved a long sigh and gave Romina a look that the girl couldn't describe. "It is very nice to meet you, Romina. I'm your grandmother, Abigail."

"Yeah, I...I heard," Romina awkwardly smiled.

Abigail chuckled. "I suppose you have. I know Rolf has been talking to you. He is quite the talker. Didn't get that from this family."

"Hey," Gemma laughed. "I don't talk that much. And you should hear Adric, he gets going sometimes."

"I suppose he does," mused Abigail. She met Romina's stare and smiled. "Trying to picture me as grandma?"

"Kind of," Romina admitted. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't be," Abigail cut her off quickly. Her smile dropped to be replaced by an earnest face. "You take all the time you need, alright? We will all respect your boundaries, whatever you want them to be."

"Th-thank you…" Romina bit on her bottom lip, "Can I...could I...um, could I hug you?" She felt an insane heat blossom over her cheeks as soon as she croaked the question out.

Luckily for her, Abigail laughed. "That was definitely your grandfather. Come here!"

Romina practically jumped on the opportunity. Her hands wrapped around her grandmother tightly.

Abigail hugged her back within the second. "Welcome home, Romina."

Romina could feel stinging tears in her eyes so she decided to shut them before they decided to escape. She focused solely on the sweet hug her grandmother was giving her. She smelled so sweet—an elegant perfume no doubt. The anger she initially felt when she learned about their existence seemed to fade in that moment. Romina wouldn't wonder if it was going to come back, not right now.

"There, there," Abigail rubbed Romina's back. "From now on, if you'd like of course, you can have all the hugs you want."

"You're not going to pinch her cheeks?" Rolf asked and Romina heard the distinct sound of his hiss. His mother had just whacked him upside the head. "What?" He huffed. "I was just asking!"

Abigail shook her head. "My grandchildren," she slowly unwinded her arms and allowed Romina to take a moment. "My grandchildren."

"You really are French," Romina said, chuckling at her grandmother's light French accent.

"Oui!" Abigail bopped Romina's nose. "Born and raised."

"Is that why you design clothes?"

Abigail chuckled. "No, I've always liked creating things, not just clothes you know. I used to create things all the time when I was younger. Out of anything too."

"Mum, why don't you show her your room?" Kassia suggested. "While Dad finishes downstairs."

Abigail pointed at her daughter. "That's a good idea! But you might need to go downstairs and pull your father out. You know how lost he gets sometimes."

Kassia scoffed. "Just a little."

"What's he doing?" Romina asked, unable to stop the light feeling of disappointment that couldn't meet her grandfather right now.

"Taking care of his creatures, what else?" Abigail sighed with a chuckle. "But don't you worry, he's coming up for lunch. He's as excited to meet you as everyone else is. C'mon." She held her hand out for Romina. "I've got many things to show you. Kassia, Gemma, will you finish for me down here?"

"Of course," Gemma said. "Rolf, you can help."

"Can't I just go downstairs with grandpa instead?" Rolf said with a scrunched nose. He really didn't feel like decorating.

"Nope! Your father's going to help too! Go!"

Romina smiled when Rolf begrudgingly walked with his mother. She took Abigail's hand afterwards and walked with her back into the house.

"Are you well, my dear?" Abigail asked as they headed for the stairs. "Because you are more than welcome to tell me if you need some time or space…"

"I'm good, promise," Romina nodded. She was still nervous but the joy in getting to meet all of them was slowly winning out.

Abigail smiled and led her up the stairs. "Is there anything you want to know about me? Or anything you want to know in general?"

Romina could think of at least a thousand things she wanted to ask. It was hard deciding where to start. "If you're French, how'd you end up living in the English countryside?" That was probably the stupidest question of all but for some reason it was the easiest one to start with.

"After everything, your grandfather and I decided that we both wanted some peace. The cities are fine but I was always accustomed to living in these solitary houses and besides, I needed space and quiet to design. Your grandfather needed the space for his creatures."

Romina hummed. She eyed the portraits on hallway walls. Even the decoration upstairs was vintage-like. "Did you design this place? Style it?"

"Yeah, I have a knack for it, you could say." Abigail met Romina's gaze and shared a chuckle with her.

"Just a bit," Romina said, mimicking her aunt Gemma's tone from earlier. "My friend Daphne Greengrass is one of your biggest fans. She loves your clothes."

"The Greengrass family, yes," nodded Abigail thoughtfully. "They're avid clients of mine. What about you? Have you ever bought any of my creations?"

Romina shook her head. "No. I've lived in the muggle world all my life so I only really have muggle clothing, sorry. Bloomingdales and all."

"Don't apologize, Romina. It's nothing to be sorry about. From now on, though, you do have access to any of my designs. Your aunt Kassia has several of them too."

Romina smiled. "Thanks, although, I don't really attend any wizarding parties or balls."

"I also make casual robes, my dear," Abigail reminded her.

"Right…"

Abigail soon stopped them in front of a closed door. It was her designing room—a place where the magic literally happened. Romina faced a large room full of fabrics and sewing machines, half finished or half started creations. To her wonder, there were even half finished jewelry sets lying around.

"I am typically a neat freak but when it comes to designing...I have a different system," Abigail admitted with a sheepish chuckle.

"This is amazing!" Romina exclaimed. She zipped from one spot to the next to examine the robes that were being made. "You really work here?"

"Most of the time, yeah. Sometimes I meet Kassia at the factory but...I like my little workshop here."

"Grandma, this is incredible!"

Abigail's face softened when Romina addressed her that way. "Thank you," she whispered.

Romina stopped by a table with several different portraits. "Is this you?" she picked up one portrait of a moving blonde woman who was far younger.

Abigail moved up to see the frame. "Yes," she nodded. "That was my 17th birthday. My parents threw my a grand celebration for my coming of age. I had just graduated from the Beauxbaton Academy."

"The what?" Romina glanced at her grandmother curiously.

"The wizarding school in France, my dear. That's where I studied."

"Oh." Romian felt stupid. Abigail had said she was born and raised in France! "You look so pretty."

Abigail 'aw'd'. "You're too sweet."

Romina set the frame back in its place and moved onto another one. She recognized Abigail's young face this time and beamed when she saw who she stood beside. "That's him—that's my grandfather!"

It was her grandparents' wedding picture.

Abigail mused. "Yes, it is. Happiest day of my life."

"You guys do look so happy," Romina mumbled. She was studying every last detail of the picture. "Hey, Rolf kind of looks like him."

"Yes," Abigail chuckled. "It's funny how strong the genes can be sometimes."

Romina gazed over the picture for another minute then placed it back down on the table. Her eyes roamed over the next frames and curiously noticed her grandmother with another man, a shorter and chubbier man, and in the next frame she was in the middle of two women who were dressed to the nines in fancy robes. "Who are they?"

"Ah," Abigail scooted closer to her granddaughter, "You will of course be meeting them as well. They are my best friends in the entire world. That right there—" she pointed at the man, "—could technically be your uncle Jacob. He is like my brother, and for a while I truly believed he was."

Romina noticed the distant look that had suddenly settled over Abigail's face. "Grandma? Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry," Abigail waved it off. "Part of a bigger story."

"I can listen to it," Romina immediately said.

"I'm not sure you're quite ready. At least not right now. All you need to know is that Jacob Kowalski is your uncle. Now those two women over in that one—that's Tina and Queenie Goldstein. Queenie's actually married to Jacob. They are my best friends and the reason I'm actually still here."

Romina sensed that this unknown story was pretty big and not every part of it was a happy one.

"They're like your aunts, Romina."

Romina nodded and looked at the last frame. It was the first frame she'd seen when she approached the table but she knew that getting to it would mean the happiness and giddiness would soon fade.

Adric, Kassia and Elora all smiled at the camera.

Romina didn't dare pick it up.

"It's alright, Romina," Abigail whispered. "Those questions—you're more than welcomed to ask. I just cannot guarantee that you'll like them."

Romina continued to stare at the picture, and Abigail noted the disdain in her granddaughter's eyes.

"She's got brown hair here..." Romina said suddenly, bringing Abigail's attention back.

"What, dear?"

"Elora, she's got brown hair there," Romina pointed.

Abigail silently noted the fact Romina did not call Elora her mother; she couldn't blame the girl.

"Every picture I have of her she has black hair."

"Yes, well, Elora was never fond of her hair. She dyed it as soon as she was old enough."

"Even when it's dyed hair, I still look just like her," Romina said, chewing on her bottom lip. "I have Caplan's eyes and hair but I still look like her." My dumb luck.

"You do," mused Abigail. "I imagine that it hasn't been easy coping with everything about her...and your father…"

Romina stared again, silently. Elora was smiling so genuinely in the picture, almost like she was happy and actually loved her siblings. "What happened?" She finally asked the question that had burned in her skull the moment she learned what her parents had done in the past. The only difference now was that she was with the woman who could possibly shed some light on Elora Oswell. Romina turned to her grandmother. "Why did my mother do everything that she did? What...made her become that?"

Romina had never found someone who was just as despondent as she was about Elora. Abigail's face contorted with deep pain. Her eyes fell on the frame of her children. "I don't know," she admitted. "Elora was always a bright child. She was my light before Adric was born. She...we gave her everything. Your grandfather and I, we had to fight a lot for this world and when everything was finally done, when we were finally able to settle down and enjoy our family, Elora was our everything."

"So...you spoiled her?" Romina asked. She could think of many kids who had been spoiled—Draco and Pansy came to mind first for some reason—but that would never explain how Elora ended up in Azkaban. Spoiling a child didn't make them horrendously dark.

Abigail shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe? I don't know. We disciplined her when we thought it was right. We taught her everything we knew, told her the stories of the fights that we had to face in the past just so she and every other child born after could live peacefully and without fear. For a while, Elora was fine. And then she went to Hogwarts. She started to change. She had already met your father but it wasn't the people around her who changed her. I think...I think it was always just her. It was something that had been locked away until she started doing dark magic. She found she was very talented at it. There was no stopping her from becoming who she did."

Romina felt like she was right back where she started. There was no clear answer about how Elora turned to the dark side. She would never get the answer — it wasn't like she would ever get to ask Elora directly.

"Romina, I feel like we owe you one huge apology," Abigail said, prompting Romina to look at her, "When Elora had you, we should have taken you. But we had hoped that you, her daughter, would be able to change her, but nothing was going to do that. We should've never placed that kind of job on you."

"Why didn't you come for me?" Romina blurted. Before coming, she had tried to plan on how she would ask the harder questions but the necessity to know why this part of the family had chosen to leave her be was much stronger than being "organized".

"Your uncle Lyonel took guardianship before we were able to find you," Abigail sighed. "By the time we caught up with what had happened, you were already legally under his care. He chose to take you away from this world and, as painful as it was to let you go, we knew that Lyonel would take care of you. A lot of people would have loved to get retribution against the Oswells and you, a toddler, would be an easy access point."

Romina stepped away from her grandmother, eyes downcast as the next question slipped from her. "Why didn't you try to see me when Rolf found out about me at Hogwarts? Things were calm by then."

"Fear," Abigail chuckled sadly and shamefully. "We had no idea who you turned out to be, but we knew that whoever you were was because of Lyonel. We didn't know if you knew about us, if you even wanted to see us. We didn't want to complicate your life."

"Could've helped me a lot, you know," Romina said. "I spent 14 years thinking none of my family wanted anything to do with me. I thought you gave up on me."

"We never gave up on you," Abigail shook her head. "We were afraid, I guess, that you would hate us."

"Hate you?" Romina said incredulously. "For what?"

"For what your mother did."

"What Elora did has nothing to do with you. I would have loved growing up having my grandparents in my life."

Abigail bit on her lip slightly, eyes shining with tears. "We could have, huh?" She exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm really sorry, Romina. If you would have us now...we would really like to be part of your life."

Romina didn't think twice before nodding. "I want to know who I am beyond that of an Oswell. I have cousins, aunts and uncles and...grandparents…" She made a weak gesture towards Abigail. "And god knows what else."

Abigail nodded. "We'll tell you everything you want to know, I promise. In the meantime, how would you like to help me finish this little necklace I'm working on."

Romina nodded. Working with her grandmother for the first time seemed like a great start to a new life. "Yes, I would like that."

Abigail motioned the girl to follow her to a table. Romina was dazzled with all the pretty stones and chains. It was an outright mess but somehow Abigail made it feel organized in her own way. She knew where everything was, even those smaller stones hiding under the bigger ones. While they worked, Romina got to learn more about Abigail.

She had lived in France for most of her life except for a short period in New York—this is where she had met that Kowalski man, the Goldstein sisters and of course her now husband. Romina noted that there were a lot of parts Abigail was purposely skipping over but for now, she thought it was best not to ask about it.

"So you're an only child like me," Romina said, ears perked up for any of the smallest details Abigail had to say. She held onto a silver wire for the unfinished necklace. Abigail was rummaging through a series of blue stones on the table.

"Mhm, I have a close cousin. She lives in France. You can meet her later on." Abigail flashed her granddaughter a smile, one that Romina immediately reciprocated.

Abigail Gejel belonged to an important pureblood family in France but as it turned out, they weren't part of any of the "nonsense muggle hatred" as she had put it.

Romina was relieved to hear that. She was also delighted to hear how Abigail had created the now exclusive fashion designing line. "You're a businesswoman!" Romina laughed. "Super cool! And back in the day too!"

Abigail hummed. "It was a challenge but I had the right support." She had finally found the right topaz stone she'd been searching for.

"You built your own business, that's really cool. And your designs are too. No wonder Daphne loves them!"

"You said Greengrass right?" Abigail used her wand to find the other topaz stones. She'd grown tired of manually searching for them. "Her mother is always upfront with the new lines. She pays in advance, you know?"

Romina chuckled lightly. "That sounds like Daphne would be. They're all about fashion."

"And you?" Abigail asked, pausing for a moment to glance at her granddaughter. "What are you about?"

Romina shrugged. "I don't know. I like fashion but not nearly as much as Daphne. I play violin—it's a muggle instrument—"

"I know," Abigail said, smiling at Romina's bashfulness. "Such a calming instrument." She prompted Romina to up the two ends of the wire then used her wand to slip the stones in. Romina was dazzled with the entire process and happily watched Abigail mend the sides to create a beautiful choker. "There we are," Abigail sighed contently. "It should match you well."

"What?" Romina blinked. "Me?"

"Well of course," Abigail said, turning to her with the choker in hand. "It'll match your headband. Beautiful shade of blue, by the way. Although, I may have added a stone that doesn't quite match—may I see it?"

"Huh?" Romina barely registered the question before she saw her grandmother's wand being waved again and the headband around her head untying. "Oh, wait!"

As soon as the headwrap was off, it reverted to its default silver color.

"Oh…" Abigail was naturally startled with the change.

"Yeah, I was going to tell you that…" Romina apologetically smiled. "It's charmed, you see? It's set to match whatever outfit I'm wearing. I chose blue today so…"

"It turned to blue," Abigail understood, "That's smart. I've heard of these but they kind of put me out of business, you know?"

Romina laughed with her. "It's cool but it'll never beat what you can make."

"These are high in the fashion world…" Abigail said, looking meaningfully at Romima. "You share you don't have an inkling for the fashion business?"

Romina shook her head. "Not really, sorry. It was a gift from a friend."

"Ah, well then, maybe she has the inkling."

Romina scrunched her face, her lips just barely holding back a laugh. "He has never mentioned that but, um, it would be fairly interesting." There, she had to snicker. She seriously doubted that Draco would ever have any type of desire to learn about fashion.

Abigail gave her granddaughter a sharp look. "Ah, is this friend a, um, special—"

"No!" Romina was quick to say. "It was Christmas, we all sent gifts to each other. Besides, if you ask me, I'm pretty sure his mother had to give him some pointers. When have you ever met a guy with good taste in accessories?"

Abigail's laugh faded into a hum. "Your grandfather has given me some peculiar things in the past."

"Yeah, I'm 90% sure that Narcissa Malfoy used her connections for all of us girl friends."

"Oh that woman," Abigail said with another hum, "She is our toughest customer but a wiz at events."

Romina snickered. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Abigail still switched the topaz stones around to perfectly match the hair wrap. It was when she had finished that they heard a sharp 'Mum!' from downstairs. It was followed by 'He's done it again!'.

"Is something wrong?" Romina immediately asked, wondering if somebody had an accident of some sort. She relaxed slightly when she saw Abigail shaking her head with a light smile.

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before. Come on, I suspect you'll find it amusing." Abigail held a hand out for Romina and was soon leading them out of the room.

Romina had no idea what to expect but if Abigail wasn't nervous nor concerned, then she shouldn't be either. Voices started drifting towards them the closer they came downstairs.

"...I should say it's my turn!"

"Rolf, go help your aunt Kassia outside!"

"I am quite alright, just a bit of an accident…"

Romina hadn't recognized that voice. She stopped at the bottom step with Abigail and saw the commotion in the living room. Adric and Gemma, with a persistent Rolf, were standing around an older man whose back faced Romina and Abigail.

"Oh mon amour, what have you gotten yourself into now?" Abigail chuckled to herself as she walked over to the group. Rolf and his parents backed up a couple steps at the same time.

"Just—it was an accident," the older man continued to say, coughing afterwards.

"I'll say," Abigail mused over something on his face. Romina couldn't quite see. "What happened?"

"Long story short: wrong jar."

"Dad, you should really start labeling them," Adric said, causing a round of snickering from the rest.

"Stand still," Abigail said, pulling out her wand. "Tergio!"

Romina watched a light flash from the wand and felt even more curious to know what on earth had been cleaned off. She heard Lyonel and Sage often produce that same spell to clean the house faster.

"Honestly," sighed Abigail, "Did you plan on meeting your granddaughter with a soot-covered face?"

"Not precisely, no," her husband shook his head.

"Aha," Abigail mumbled. "Romina," her sudden call made Romina stiffen in her spot, "Come over here and meet your grandfather before he decides to get caught up in another mess." She flashed a smirk at her husband. "Not very unlikely, you'll come to find out."

Romina took slow steps towards the group, her wide eyes glued on the adults. She had no idea where to stop so she decided to come stand by Abigail. She soon met the gaze of her grandfather: a tall, slim man with tousled brown and gray hair, green eyes and freckles splayed over his wrinkled skin.

"Look at you—they're your eyes, Abby," he said in an out of breath manner. His eyes briefly flickered to Abigail who smiled sweetly in return. "It's always been your eyes going down the family line."

Romina couldn't help but flush. It seemed like that would be a common remark about her from now on. "Hi, um, I'm Romina…"

"Yes, I'm Newt, your grandfather." He had a lopsided kind of smile that seemed to just fit with his face. It gave Romina a sense of warmth. "It is very good to meet you at last."

Romina nodded. "Yeah. It's good to meet you too. I've, um, I read your book—again. I didn't know who you were during my first year so I didn't pay a lot of attention…"

Both Newt and Abigail laughed. "That's alright," Newt assured her in the end.

"I liked it, though," Romina went on, "Definitely learned a lot. Don't get me wrong, there are some creatures that I'm kind of afraid of, but it's still nice to learn about them."

"You don't have to be afraid of them, most creatures can be misunderstood. For example, most creatures large in size tend to be the ones most misunderstood."

"Oh! Like Buckbeak!" Romina exclaimed, glancing back at Rolf who agreed with a nod.

"Who?" Adric asked.

"The Hippogriff I told you about, remember?" Rolf said, "He scratched Draco Malfoy on his arm. He had it coming."

"Rolf!" His mother scolded him. "You know what? Didn't I tell you to go help your aunt outside? Let's go!"

"But Mum—"

Gemma wasn't letting him get away with it this time. She personally ushered Rolf out of the living room and a moment later, Adric decided to follow as well.

"He is right, though," Romina said, meeting her grandparents' gazes, "Hagrid, the, um, professor technically, he told us from the beginning that we had to be very careful when we came in contact with a Hippogriff."

"Hippogriffs are very proud creatures," Newt remarked. "It's all about showing them respect and knowing the boundaries. Most people fail to understand both concepts, I'm afraid."

Romina half smiled. "Yeah," she agreed. "I honestly thought they were kind of scary but I ultimately saw he was really loyal." Buckbeak was so loyal that he had helped Sirius Black escape death.

"I'm glad you did," Newt smiled at her with what Romina would like to think was pride. "It's all about the handling, really. You make one mistake and…" He made a gesture to his face for some reason.

Abigail chuckled beside him, understanding what he was trying to say. "You can end up with some cranky salamanders, eh?"

Newt tilted his head to the side. "It was an accident…"

"Oh, I have no doubt about that, mon amour. It wouldn't be the first time you came out of there with a soot covered face!"

"You have salamanders here?" Romina asked, eyes raking the room as if she would catch one of the lizards on the wall.

"That and more," Abigail said with a knowing smile.

"Where?" Romina couldn't see the place housing anything but a regular dog or a fish. Newt cleared his throat, gaining her attention, and pointed a finger down. Romina followed it to the floor and frowned. "What? You have a basement? Hardly the place to keep salamanders."

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed but your grandmother here is an expert decorator…" Newt made a gesture at the room, "I see myself skilled in maximizing space."

Abigail burst into laughter, starting Romina. Apparently, there was a joke she had missed or something. Newt seemed at a cross of pride over his words and embarrassed at the same time.

"A story for dinner, maybe," Newt told Romina when he saw her desperately trying to figure out why Abigail was laughing so much. "How about we have dinner and then afterwards, I can show you some of the creatures downstairs? Would you like that?"

Romina didn't hesitate to nod. "Aha!"

She followed them out of the living room to the backyard. The twinkling lights that Abigail had been working on were now completely finished, as was the table. Everything was set to eat. Romina sat down beside Rolf at the end of the table. On her other side was Abigail followed by Newt. Kassia was opposite of the teenagers followed by Gemma and then Adric. Romina eyed the mix of muggle and wizard food on the table with surprise. Even her own home didn't have that type so blatantly.

"It's good, I promise," she heard Abigail say.

Romina's cheeks flushed red with everyone's eyes on her. "Oh no, it's not that I didn't like it, it's just odd that there's all this food and…" She wasn't explaining herself very well and she knew it. "I think I'll just stop talking now."

The table shared laughs.

"Sorry," Romina said, biting on her bottom lip. "The only times I eat at a big table is when we're at Hogwarts but other than that it's just uncle Lyonel, aunt Sage and me. Guess I gotta work on my manners." She relaxed when everyone assured her she was doing just fine. They seemed to mean it so why shouldn't she believe it?

Lunch wrapped up way longer than it probably should've taken them. Romina found conversation with everyone and with such ease. For a while, she forgot about all the nerves that had been with her all day. She focused on the details she was learning about her family. Her aunt Gemma, for example, worked for the Daily Prophet. Her grandparents had long "retired" from their respective jobs but neither seemed to actually be able to stick to it. In fact, it was like they hadn't.

Romina soon felt the nerves start up again when her grandfather asked if she still wanted to go "downstairs" and see some of the creatures he had. She agreed but it was clear to everyone that she was a little reluctant. Perhaps she would've felt a little better if Abigail had accompanied them because she distinctly remembered Rolf mentioning that she was still a little frightened sometimes too. However, Abigail was a little preoccupied reprimanding her own son for something that Romina couldn't understand.

The woman was speaking incredibly fast and in French.

"She sounds really mad," Romina whispered as she and Newt headed for the living room. "And very...French…"

"Adric does go poking where he shouldn't," Newt said, sighing when they stopped and heard Abigail's distinct yell.

"REPOSEZ CE PLATEAU!"

Both Newt and Romina winced when they heard the shatter of a tray.

"Je vous ai dit que cela arriverait!" Abigail said in an exasperated cry.

Newt's lips were pulled into a knowing smile. "Adric also likes to think he's incredibly strong."

"Do you speak French?" Romina suddenly asked him curiously.

"Enough to know when she's upset," he said, making Romina giggle. "If the words are not 'mon amour', I am in trouble. Alright then, ready?"

Romina nodded and followed closely behind as he moved towards a study. She took note of all the books that filled the shelves and, of course, more family portraits. Before she inched close to any of them, she heard a creak and saw that her grandfather was pulling a part of the floor up, like a trap door!

She grinned. She should have figured that's what they had meant. They both went down the stairs and Romina then figured out another thing. Her grandfather was really good at maximizing space. "It's bigger on the inside," she remarked, earning a good laugh from him.

"Sort of, yeah," he nodded.

She shouldn't be surprised with it, really, but living in a perfectly normal muggle house in the muggle world sometimes made itself really present in her life. This basement didn't even look like a basement. There were waters as if there was an actual ocean within the house...with a sun! She couldn't tell where that sun was but it was strong! Grassy plain fields also filled some of the rooms—that's what she could tell from where they stood. She had yet to move. Along with the spacious rooms she heard the mix of several, and she meant several, growls from creatures.

"Romina?"

The girl blinked. She'd been staring at everything for too long, hadn't she? She straightened up and moved closer to her grandfather. "They're not...they're not going to bite me are they?"

Newt smiled and brought a hand to her back. "Remember what you said about the Hippogriff in Hogwarts?" She nodded. "Well, just apply that here. Rolf says you've dealt with creatures already and you always passed the assignments."

"W-well yeah but...that was at school," Romina said, unknowingly leaning closer to his side. "Hagrid's really good at supervising, you know? That whole mishap with Malfoy was a fluke. We didn't really handle anything dangerous."

"I don't have anything dangerous here, Romina, I promise," Newt said. He smiled at her encouragingly. "No creature is dangerous. It's all about the handling, remember?"

"Yeah," Romina said. She read that over and over in his book and it did make sense. Everything and everyone had to be treated with respect in order to forge a good relationship, that included big creatures.

Sensing she was still slightly frightened, Newt suggested they look at something small. "I think you'll like this one," he promised as they moved further through the basement.

"How do you know?" Romina said. She'd clasped her hand around his tightly.

"Because your grandmother went through the same thing when we first met. Once she got to know him, everything else sort of fell into place."

"What is it?" Romina grew curious the more they walked.

Newt said nothing and instead stopped by what seemed to be a regular tree. Romina knew better than to believe that. Still holding onto her grandfather's hand, she leaned closer and gasped when she saw green moving.

"The Bowtruckles!" she exclaimed, proud of herself that she remembered them now. Rolf's reminders definitely helped! "You have a whole bunch of them!"

Newt gently pulled her slightly back. With his free hand, he reached for the tree with one finger sticking out. "Romina," he said as one particular Bowtruckle started climbing over his finger, "This is Pickett." Romina's eyes widened when he drew his hand back and the Bowtruckle was left between them. "He has been with us for a very long time. Your grandmother warmed up to him first."

"Hi there Pickett," Romina felt silly wiggling her fingers at the little green creature. She gasped when Pickett threw a raspberry at her. "Well!"

"Hey now," Newt turned slightly from Romina, giving the bowtruckle a stern look. "She's not a stranger. Abby's not going to be happy if you're not kind to our granddaughter."

Romina was fairly bemused when Pickett quickly climbed over Newt's arm, over his shoulder and to his other arm that was right in front of her. She giggled. He was trying to mend his behavior.

"I had him before I met your grandmother but two minutes with her made him absolutely adore her," Newt said, watching Pickett attempt to launch himself from his hand to Romina's arm. "...to the point of choosing to hide out in her pockets instead."

Romina giggled. She finally made it easier for the poor bowtruckle by raising her hand and allowing him a much safer passage. He didn't think twice in crawling over. "Hi there, I'm Romina," she introduced herself again. "You're kinda cute."

"Oh, that's exactly what Abigail said—I'll have to check your pockets before you go," Newt said, "He will hide if he gets the chance."

Romina laughed at the idea of bringing Pickett home only for Sage or Lyonel to find him creeping around the house. "You would definitely frighten aunt Sage."

Newt watched her toggle with Pickett for a minute or so. It was uncanny how stories repeated themselves. From Abigail...to Elora...to Romina.

Romina raised her gaze to him. "Can he stay with me while we're here?"

The story definitely repeated itself. Newt nodded, saying a clear 'of course'. He doubted Pickett would actually want to go back anytime soon anyways.

On their stroll, Romina got to see several other creatures. She saw some strange looking snakes that, to her awe, would turn to ash as soon as they laid some priceless eggs. She didn't say it but she figured that her grandfather already knew muggles would be all over those eggs. She wandered a little to follow an orange creature that looked incredibly a lot like a butterfly. When Newt caught what she was following, he told her it was a Flitterby moth.

"Why couldn't they just call it a butterfly?" Romina asked. She glanced at Pickett who had come to sit on her shoulder. He shrugged his leafy arms at her.

"These are not like butterflies, Romina," Newt said as he led her into another field-like room.

Romina was awed by the dozens of butterfly-like creatures. "Why not?" she asked.

"Well, for starters, they do that," Newt pointed to a couple of the moths whose wings were glowing scarlet.

Romina gasped. "Oh, that's pretty. Definitely not like butterflies."

"They also hum a little when they're flying—listen." Newt put a finger over his lips and motioned her to stay quiet. As soon as they had and got past the flapping of wings, they heard a few hums here and there.

Romina grinned. "Wow! They do! It's like they're laughing!"

"Yeah, that's what many people like to say."

"You know, I think Hagrid might have a few of these now that I'm thinking about it. I should probably visit more and then I'll see for real."

"You like the gamekeeper, then? Sorry, professor, right?"

"Mhm," Romina nodded. "He's kind of like you. He loves creatures, even the ones that most people would be afraid of. He's friends with this big spider—a king spider from the forest."

Newt smiled. "I would tell you to stay away from the forest but my reputation would laugh at me."

Romina side-glanced him. "You're still incredibly smart," she said, knowing full well from Rolf that their grandfather had been expelled from Hogwarts. For what reason, she didn't know and she didn't think she needed to know.

Newt thanked her for the compliment. "It'll be nice to see my grandchildren graduate, both of them at the same time."

"Even if, um, we're not both in Hufflepuff?" Romina asked sheepishly, bringing her hands together in front of her.

"Your mother was in Slytherin," Newt reminded her. "And I loved Elora."

"But she...she did a lot of bad stuff," Romina said, biting on her bottom lip.

"But not because of her House," Newt said, sighing much like Abigail had when they started talking about Elora. "I had a very good friend once and she was in Slytherin. She made a few mistakes but she was a good person. Your House does not define you, Romina. It certainly didn't with your mother."

"I know that every House has its bad apples but I feel like people just automatically see Slytherins as bad people. It has certainly made things harder for me sometimes. Many of my friends are in Gryffindor. The friends I have in Slytherin—most of them are good but there's others…" She balled her fists as soon as she thought of Pansy.

"I understand, Romina, trust me. I know what Hogwarts could be like. It's why sometimes I can't say I really missed going there. Everyone I met were people outside of it, really far from it actually."

Romina found the energy to smile. "Grandma showed me pictures in her room and all of your friends are Americans. Plus, grandma's French. How'd you meet?"

Newt's eyebrows raised as he thought of the story and how long it would be to tell it all. Plus, like Abigail, he thought she was too young for it anyways. "I was making a trip to New York and it so happened that your grandmother was living there for a while."

"Odd place to meet a French woman, especially in the 20s," Romina said, scrunching her face. "And, I guess, the love of your life…"

"You'll never know when something like that can happen so don't go knocking on it," Newt warned playfully, "You never know."

"Yeah, I doubt that whatever happened to me will happen to me," Romina said, "Unless you want to tell me the full story so I know how to avoid something like that?"

"There's no story," Newt said far too quickly.

Romina then glanced at Pickett. "What do you think? You were there."

"Pickett," came Newt's warning call. "Abigail wouldn't like it."

Pickett "decided" to crawl down Romina's cardigan to slip into her pocket. Romina snorted and looked at Newt. "You're not very good at lying, are you?"

Newt bobbed his head. "It's not one of my stronger suits, no."

"Well, if I ask you something one more thing, you'll tell me the truth?"

"I suppose I would." Newt looked at her while she decided how to ask her questions and when he thought she'd gone through enough, he helped her out. "We did love you, Romina. From the moment we knew about you, we loved you. Our hope was that you would be able to help Elora come back." Romina ducked her head; it was like her grandmother had said. "You were so young when Elora was captured and...Lyonel beat us, I guess."

"You could have looked for me," Romina said quietly.

"We knew that you were safe and at the end of the day we just...we didn't want to put you in the middle of two battling families. You deserved stability, you deserved a home filled with love and nurture."

"Away from the wizarding world," Romina pointed out with a long sigh to follow. "Because that's how I was raised. Away from everything, in a small little neighborhood."

"But were you loved?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Then it wasn't all for nothing," Newt said. He sighed and brought a hand down on Romina's shoulder. "But I understand your anger towards us. It's been in my experience that families are not always easy to be with. Please know that we never forgot you. The moment Rolf told us you were attending Hogwarts, we've been present."

"So I guess you know all about my challenging years, then," Romina said, unable to look at her grandfather out of shame.

"Once again, I am no stranger to hard years at Hogwarts. And I also know that you have come out each time better than before."

"I'm not good," Romina whispered. "Rolf's told me about your past, how you fought in wars...I'm not good like that. I've hurt those who hurt me."

"To kill?"

"Course not, just...well..." Romina groaned just thinking about the stupid things Pansy had done to her in the past. When she told her grandfather about them, he offered her a comforting smile.

"At the end of the day, you're all still children. And with such raging emotions. You are not bad, Romina. Don't ever think otherwise."

Romina swallowed hard before meeting her grandfather's gaze. "I'm glad I met you guys. I don't want to lose any of you again."

"You won't," Newt assured her. "You're finally home with us, and if you're still interested, I'd love to show you more of my creatures."

Romina nodded at the idea. "I'd love to."

"You're not afraid anymore?"

"I have my grandpa with me, I'll be fine."

Newt smiled fondly at her. He watched as Romina curled her arm around his then excitedly asked him what else they could see. He was more than happy to show her around.

At the end of the day, Romina would eagerly ask her aunt and uncle if she could please stay for the night. And when they gave her permission and it was time for bed, Romina found that she had a roommate. A small, leafy green roommate.

#ocapp #allaboutocs #ochub #fyeahharrypotterocs #harry potter #harry potter ocs #draco Malfoy fics #draco Malfoy imagines #draco Malfoy x oc #harry potter fics #harry potter imagines #hp #hp fics #hp imagines #oc: Romina Oswell #fic: legacies

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thegraysquirrel · 6 months

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Title in Progress

(Foreword: Hi! (^.^)/ I got semi-challenged into writing some sort of Fanfic Dissertation since I've been dropping large comments on AO3 that kind of count as an essay but in my opinion not quite, so I tried my hand at an actual essay on a topic of my own choice.

This is for the fandom Genshin Impact (Video Game) and in particular for a fanfic about the pairing Childe/Lumine that had gripped me and still has a hold on me. The following below is 3.5k words in which I try to take someone along for the journey of reading said fic.

If you don't know anything about the fandom in question but feel curious to read my insights anyway, there are links in the body of the text and me pointing out when to read it. I do dive into more general theory on why I picked this subject in particular for an essay that's not exclusive to this fandom. Otherwise, feel free to skip past it.)

What is the first thing you make note of when deciding if you’ll read a fic? What can make or break clicking on a fic for you if all the other parts were the same? There are a handful of things I focus on when deciding to read a fic:

The title

The summary

The tags

There are more factors, of course. Some people factor in it being recommended by others, amount of bookmarks or kudos or comments, but all of those are influenced by fandom while the title, summary, and the tags are solely the choice of the author. They are the representatives of the fic itself, and some are diplomatic and serious in their duty for it while others are a reflection of… being close to the people in how unhinged it can get (I say this with great affection!).

For today’s fanfic dissertation, I want to take you along to tackling one of my most favourite parts of a fic when thinking about what to comment: the fic title. I could ramble for a long while about various differences in fics with titles for their story, their chapters, or lack of a title. Perhaps you are thinking of a particular fic which title you hold close? Did it have meaning to you prior to reading or did it only get that after you read the fic?

Let’s dive in:

no amount of fear will keep you safe by dovelious

What’s your first thought when reading this title? What kind of themes might it tackle and what contents might the story keep its focus on? Since the title isn’t the only representative of the fic, I’ll hand you the summary and the tags as well since I had them when diving in:

There will not be a peaceful ending to their story. Their final confrontation will test every limit they have. This is the climax of his story, and it is just another chapter in hers. But in this world nothing is ever for certain, and they can only hope it will end with their hearts intact. (Lumine thinks about what circumstances will lead to childe’s final fight on teyvat.)

With this extra info, it’s time to type out a first thought on the meaning of the title and, by extent, what the author considers an important part of the story.

The story title is something that you could find in a fluffy fic of learning about bravery, especially if the perspective of the title is from Lumine (who holds the perspective in the summary). With the death tag, however, it’s prudent to look at it through an angst-y pair of glasses. I’ve done the legwork for us and added something that might have been kept silent for both our characters:

About Childe: No amount of fear will keep you safe (from dying) About Lumine: No amount of fear will keep you safe (from grieving)

I have a big reason to think of it as being from Lumine’s perspective beyond the argument of the summary being from hers, too. Childe doesn’t seem afraid of dying to the point of throwing himself into battles with anyone strong. The only fear he might seem to have is fear for his family’s wellbeing, which might likely extend to Lumine as they grow closer. That, however, feels like a reach but it would become:

No amount of fear (from me for your wellbeing) will keep you safe

It’s still a possibility, of course. What is a given here is that there is a major character death and it won’t be Lumine’s. Whether it’s Childe’s or that of another important character remains a question phrased with desperate hope, I’d wager that the title is important to the two main characters—they’re the two main characters, after all! So, the angst-y pair of glasses will do its work: Childe will die in the end. Let’s bring in the first chapter title to continue this discussion:

allies or enemies? this will be the death of me

It doesn’t matter if Lumine and Childe are on the same side or opposing sides, Ajax will meet his end. As enemies, I can see it clearly too; Lumine survived with two elements against Childe in the Golden House (who admittedly didn’t go all-in from the start, but the point remains that he failed to finish the fight). At the end of her journey, she will have seven elements and have fought and won against more gods and harbingers than Childe has. If they fight as enemies at the end, Childe will lose. If Lumine were an ally, though? The fate of the world is balancing on this and there will be bloodshed to ensure a better world—apparently, Childe will be unable to keep up with Lumine and lose his life in a double battle.

About Lumine: Are we allies or enemies? I’ll survive this, but I won’t come out the same on the other end. About Childe: Are we allies or enemies? It doesn’t matter which, this will be the death of me. Literally.

This is something Lumine would ponder; the Big Thoughts™ on Childe’s inevitable fate compared to the inevitability of her own long, long life. Whether this will be the death of her in the fluffy sense of Childe working on her nerves with his cheer or in the angsty sense of making her care about him and then dying, Lumine will live on with the memories.

I won’t copy paste the chapter, but if you’ve been discovering this fic as you’ve been following along with me, this is the moment to progress to reading that first chapter.

Lumine knows she’s important to Childe because she has eyes. Lumine thinks further ahead after Childe sought her out to spend time adventuring with. She’s going to be a big part of his story, while he remains contained to one chapter, and that difference in scope? It might creep up on Lumine just how far Childe is willing to go for something as short-sighted as “fighting to the death” with a comrade. She might not even be aware of Childe being the death of her, in a way.

Maybe you knew already, maybe you didn’t, but when you search for the fic title on the internet, you’ll find it’s a lyric from Keep You Safe by the Crane Wives. The same can be said for the chapter’s title: Allies or Enemies also by the Crane Wives.

Of course, the title has a bigger chance of remaining important to the overall story while the chapter titles are usually contained to one chapter, so let’s start big again with the story title and then wind our way down to the chapter title.

Listen to the song, open up the lyrics and see if there are things jumping out to you. I did the same and can offer you this:

When I watched my friends/ Rise to the tops of the trees/ With the risk of fall

When Lumine watches her friend Childe rise to the top of the world with the risk of death, she isn’t ready for it. No matter how strong Lumine is, she never wants to rise to the top of the world; she just wants to find her brother.

Time is not your friend

“Though we need not rush, sister. I have more than enough time to wait for you. We have always... had enough time.”

Time had always been a friend to Lumine or worst case scenario: a stranger. There are now people Lumine will care about who do not have enough time to wait for her and there will come a time when it’s impossible for her to wait for them (because they are long gone). If she takes having time for granted, it will stab her in the back in due time. It’s neither friend nor stranger but a secret third thing: an adversary.

The older I get/ The more fears I collect/ I gather them from/ All the people I meet/ Their stories reveal/ Regrets their smiles can’t conceal/ I carry them/ I carry them with me

There is a reason Childe is a chapter in Lumine’s life. She will carry him with her, as the moments with him were enough to be worth a chapter. Childe will be the death of her, and Childe will give her a fear she did not have before meeting him.

What if the steps I take turn out to be mistakes?

What if when she flips the coin in a decisive battle, it lands on the wrong side?

“Come what may.”

This is something Childe has long since mastered. If he dies, he dies. If he doesn’t, he’ll find a next battle. If they spend the night together at the beach, come what may, Childe will make the best of it.

Title: no amount of fear will keep you safe

No amount of fear will keep Lumine safe from continuing on in Teyvat, and then it might just be Childe who will, come what may, brave the risk of falling down, down, down.

We took a look at the song behind the fic’s title, so what about the song behind the first chapter’s title? Play it in the background, open up the lyrics, whatever floats your boat.

Instead of picking out lyrics as I did with the previous song, I’m asking a question. What do you consider among the most important things to have happened this chapter?

I have multiple things I notice. Childe makes Lumine promise they will fight one final battle together (as allies? Or as enemies?) before she leaves. Though Paimon was hesitant to take Childe up on travelling together temporarily, Lumine had little problem with it. Why? Because meeting Teucer gave her a new insight. Childe hearing about Lumine’s brother gives him a new insight. I propose that the song is not a reflection of Childe and Lumine’s current predicament. Instead, the song is a reflection of a character most impactful to the chapter and in this case, it’s Aether.

Aether and Lumine are at the end stage of the song, being together as kids and now not knowing if they are allies or enemies. It's the crux of this chapter—yes, it's great that Childe and Lumine are travelling together and that Lumine confides in Childe with her reason for getting stronger, but that's the centerpiece: Lumine can't fight with Aether and if she would have to go separate ways from him, period, it will be the death of her. Aether appears so shortly, but he's lurking in the narrative and is a focal point for Lumine and her connection to Aether of allies or enemies.

As for Childe and Lumine? They are at the start stage of the song. They're at the stage of being able to crack up and smile instead of holding on to the fight between them or staring at the other as they wonder if they should clap each other on the shoulder or drive a blade through it. Because they are at the start, they are going to head for the end of the song too, and Lumine and Aether's connection of allies and enemies will be reflected and paralleled in the relationship Lumine and Childe will build up.

(That’s my guess going of the title, tags, summary, and this first chapter and its title anyway. I’ve been right in my predictions and I’ve been wrong. I think there is a reason for the tag Lumine & Aether as well as Childe & Lumine, and it’s paralleled with this chapter title.)

I’ve got another thought about this chapter’s title, but since I’ve only come to realize the hypothesis after reading the second, let’s march onwards to chapter two.

safe ship, harbored

Since there was a theme with the previous two titles, it’s an easy choice to do an internet search and find that it is yet another song by The Crane Wives, creating a theme thus far for the two of seven chapters planned. To listen to the song on YouTube, click here, and find the lyrics here.

What does it mean, a safe ship harboured? Like all of us shippers know, a ship wants to set sail to truly be alive, whether through fandom or crumbs of interactions from canon. It can be dangerous to go out there, but the alternative means the ship is stagnant.

When I read the song, I am reminded of one person in particular.

The Tsaritsa.

She is a ship Childe should not waste his bottle on for blessings. Where does his faith fall in her? She lost all of her good years on that throne while the Fatui planned and planned for centuries for this, and she hasn’t fared across the world all that time. She is the Goddess of Love, yet she hasn’t seen the people in Teyvat to love as the plans unfold and cause death and desolation. She is not born a safe ship; she is made one because Celestia cost her everything.

I then proceeded to read up to the second paragraph—I suggest you do the same.

My verdict after reading it is that the Tsaritsa absolutely is the safe ship in the harbour (an archon safe on her throne in the palace). Lumine proves she herself isn’t a ship safe in the harbour by being on the move: last chapter, she was in Liyue and right now, she is in Snezhnaya and braving the worst blizzard to get to the throne room.

The question I was left with is if it will be Lumine who withholds the bottle of blessings on the ship or if that’s our favourite Harbinger. I’m holding out for Childe because to Lumine, the Tsaritsa is just another archon. To Childe, it’s been the archon at the ice palace that will finish what she started centuries ago. When glancing at the tags, you’ll note that there is a Childe & Tsaritsa tag, signalling that their relationship is important to a section of this story, and that’s why I’m rooting for something this chapter for Childe.

Take this as your signal to read the second chapter in full. I’ll be talking about its contents, whenever it comes up now.

Childe had the choice between dying for his Tsaritsa or yielding. As if he understood the message his Tsaritsa is silently screaming to her followers, Childe opted not to waste his life to bless the Tsaritsa on a journey she might not even make. Childe yielded, and Lumine even hints that the Tsaritsa wanted to teach Childe a lesson here. Don’t break the bottle, don’t waste your blessings on me.

Now that we’ve got most of the second chapter out of the way, we can make a short side-step and make ties to the previous chapter and overall story.

The thought of bloodthirsty blue eyes crossed her mind, and she gripped her blade tighter. [...] This will not be an easy fight, and she knows that delaying the inevitable will not get her anywhere.

There are soft call backs to the story title's song in this chapter: time is not your friend, and delaying the inevitable will not make you braver. So Lumine does not delay and moves forward.

This chapter's title: safe ship, harbored, ties so nicely with the story title. no amount of fear will keep you safe. The ship might be in the harbour, it might be seen as safe, but its fear of setting out in the harsh world won't keep it safe because danger will find its way to it eventually.

(The danger here, of course, being Lumine.)

Similarly, no amount of fear would keep Lumine safe in her battle with Childe, but for the time being, it was keeping Childe safe. Lumine defeated three Harbingers already and mentioned that the numbers of Fatui had thinned—I doubt she has given the other Harbingers the same grace she gave Childe, because even when he is an enemy he’s an ally. A friend. Something she reminded herself of by getting that mask off so she saw her friend Childe instead of the imposing enemy Harbinger. I know how I will interpret it, but it’s up to you what you read between the lines.

At the end of the chapter, Lumine and Childe make plans to travel together. What does that mean in the context of this chapter’s title?

Instead of staying safe in the Snezhnaya, they set out on their dangerous journey. Instead of staying docked in the harbour, they set sail with the risk of getting hurt, and seem to avoid what happened to the Tsaritsa. Remember, however, that the Tsaritsa was not born a safe ship. Something or someone wore her down, and it could be “Celestia” being the culprit but most importantly: losing someone very dear to her broke her. Just like the previous chapter seemed to have Lumine and Childe at the start of the narrative of the song, it could be the case here. They go around the world, but one of them will sink and the other will remain docked in the harbour because of the scars that experience left. With it being the end of Childe’s story and only the end of a chapter in Lumine’s, you can fill in the blanks who of the two becomes a safe ship, harbored.

This brings me to the final metatextual point: this whole fic’s premise. #thinking about all the ways childes character will end.... All these chapter titles and other relationships so far have been warning signs of Lumine’s (and Childe’s) future, similar to how certain aspects in the game’s narratives have been warning signs of Childe’s future, particularly how he’s toeing the line with death. The chapter titles all have a bearing on someone else’s present and are the writing on the wall for Lumine and Childe’s possible future.

Since you read Genshin fic, you’re likely playing Genshin Impact. In the various quests and hidden in the lore that describes the history of Teyvat through books, weapons, artifacts and other writings, you’ll find that the same stories are happening over and over again. I’d argue that every time a story gets repeated, though, it goes just a fraction better. (Alhaitham’s story quest has Alhaitham, whose design and characterization is inspired by King Deshret, outright rejecting the collective consciousness King Deshret worked towards with the Golden Slumber. I have high hopes for Mondstadt to end up differently than Khaenri’ah, what with all the parallels between Aether’s connection to Khaenri’ah, ours to Mondstadt, and just general connections between Khaenri’ah and Mondstadt.) The people in the current stories make a better choice and avoid greater tragedy than those in the past. That’s why I can’t lose hope that all these warning signs of death to Childe and warning signs of isolation for Lumine remain that: they take the better path because those in the past took the tragic road.

And if it does end up with Ajax dying far too young, then the warning signs were all there. While I can’t say, “I knew it,” I did know it remained a possibility. Even though I’ve thrown all these words of analysis on the titles in the fic, and I will do so on future chapter titles too, I’m no closer to finding the answer of how this fic will end. Future chapter titles will prove if the current theme I’ve settled on will hold:

The song is by the Crane Wives

The title is primarily about someone else or a relationship Childe or Lumine has with someone else

The title is secondarily about Childe and Lumine, acting as a warning sign of their future

I have many, many more thoughts about the fic, but they don’t revolve around the subject I carved out as my focus: titles. I will, however, point you to read the first chapter again and then read the last scene between Lumine and Childe in chapter two. The parallels. Read it again, and then look down:

Talking while watching the stars (Lumine's home, in a sense) - talking while watching the snow (Snezhnaya, Ajax's home). Lumine sharing a part she doesn't tell just anyone (her most important person: Aether. He hasn't showed up yet, but he's so important, lurking in the narrative, being Lumine's main quest) and then Ajax doing the same here, with the sun rising (his name! something he still has of before he became Fatui. Before he got lost in bloodshed. Before he fell in the abyss. When he was a bright-eyed kid listening to legends told by his father when ice fishing). Childe reached out to Lumine to travel together for a bit in chapter one and in chapter two, Lumine reaches out to Childe to travel together for a bit. So many delicious parallels that, just like Childe said in chapter one that Lumine is important to him, it’s clear in chapter two that he is important to Lumine.

I’ll wrap it up now, as this has reached beyond what could fit in two comments on AO3.

The title is the first thing we see as a reader, yet it might very well have been the last thing the writer decided on for their story. The title is the beginning and the end, as we uncover more and more through the story about what the author considered—one way or another—the most important representation of it. The title is just a random combination of words at the start you hold no connection to, yet as you progress though the story, your understanding of the fic grows with every word, every paragraph, every chapter and everything else you can get your hands on as being meaningful to the title.

Somewhere down the line, the random combination of words will hold meaning of its own. Somewhere down the line, the title in progress just became the title and heart of the story.

#Chilumi #Genshin Impact #Lumine #Childe #Tartaglia #gray and the adventure of commenting #I'm also quite chuffed about the meta of my own title #I also just want someone to screech with about the fic #It's a bit introspective about both Lumine and Childe so far #AND other characters too which reflects back on them #I've been losing my mind over it and am due a reread

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r4ngr · 11 months

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so while i have lots of thoughts on the adf promo video and will be addressing said thoughts in various posts across several of my blogs, i thought it would be prudent to address this particular image:

since it has a direct impact on my brain chemistry in the SPECIFIC section of jay writing. contrary to popular belief, i love jay and i do think his story is really interesting and complicated. but despite all his screentime in book two, i really don't think it had enough time to breathe. not enough elements of jay's story were able to be appropriately expressed because, although compelling in its own way, a lot of jay's time is moreso allotted to random encounters and then subsequently his romance with vanessa. and i do like vanessa's inclusion in the story. she highlights a really clear difference between the holts and literally everyone else. i don't think it's a mistake that she and jay have similar situations ( an older male figure that means well but whose behaviour harms his kids, a dead brother they were close to, etc. ), she's really fundamentally different from jay because she just isn't a holt, hasn't been affected by the desert dream. there's just no possible way she could get it.

but those thoughts aside, let's dive into that picture and what it means to me personally. so bear is very conspicuously missing from the promo video ( as is jim, but that's for another post ), but sharon does make a brief cameo. her only appearance is where she's sitting next to jay at a time of day that looks like early morning, and she's got tears in her eyes that she's trying not to shed. obviously, this scene never happens in-game, but it does call to mind another scene:

... the scene where bear and jay discuss the stranger's fate, bear's inability to get help, and bear offers his parting words to jay. it's an early morning time, and based on the sky in these two images, i can safely say that jay's conversation with sharon here takes place at around the same time of day. based on sharon's expression, i'd imagine this takes place after bear's attempt. but it's clearly not after the attempted robbery, since there's just no way the holts would return home after that. so it's got to be sometime between bear's attempt and the robbery.

which leads me to talk about a key detail i noticed. i can't imagine this isn't intentional, but when bear is talking to jay, he is sitting to jay's right. in sharon's picture, she's sitting to jay's left. in other words, jay is sitting in the same spot that bear did. that's telling to me. it actually makes me cry a little bit. because what does bear say to jay in that scene? it wasn't easy for me, but i did it for us. family means sacrifice. i brought this on us, so it's on me to fix it. it's so striking. jay is the one who singlehandedly cinches the holts' fates. he gives up the watch or keeps it. he buries the stranger or keeps him alive. he decides if bear's fighting for his life or if it's all over. and then, in the robbery, he is the one who unknowingly picks up the black book. and i don't know what he and sharon were talking about, but i do know that jay is sitting in the seat of overwhelming personal responsibility. the situation the holts are in? it's one he feels responsible for. he could have let bear die for nothing. he could have killed thorne for nothing. and ma's anguish as she sits next to him is something jay feels he has a part in.

i believe wholeheartedly that this scene is one that would be shown in a book 2 flashback, where jay would agree to go along with the robbery. it's clear from the first chapter that tyler didn't want him there, and i doubt dale would have dragged jay kicking and screaming either. the truth is, jay wanted to go. he wanted to do this for the family. fix the mess he caused. and what happened?

well, it was the end of the line.

#like i have SUCH thoughts about him and his arc it's not funny #having a scene like this would have CINCHED the arc so well #it's about how he spends so much time pretending that he was dragged into it #but he WASN'T. this PROVES it to me #i just know it in my bones y'all i just know it.#anyway i am soooo. i have more thoughts i CANNOT handle it #they are for another time. heart emoji

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blood-bound · 7 months

Text

Mark session recap!

As usual, there’s some things I won’t provide a lot of context for so please feel free to ask clarifying questions… to explain context this summary would be way 2 long and this game has been going on for longer than a year! Things in ‘scare quotes’ are close to the actual quote but I can’t ever remember them exactly.

This was an individual session where a few things Mark was planning to do were resolved.

The first one was bringing a lock and chain to JP so they could keep the memory sphere they were using locked away. Mark thought that this lock wouldn’t be super helpful if anyone was actually trying to get it but promised JP he’d bring it and so did it anyways. The sphere is essential for them to communicate without the influence of the blood bond.

JP currently resides at an abandoned lighthouse on Mark’s territory. It’s a shithold, but there’s not another good place for JP to go - it’s quite far out of the way as well. As Mark enters, the first floor is pitch black; he has to navigate by flashlight. As he climbs the stairs he starts hearing periodic moaning (of pain y’all) and a banging sound. It’s hard to describe but it had a real nice horror ambiance :)

When Mark opened the door to the second floor he saw JP had captured and tied up some anarch and was feeding from him. (Anarchs had been making inroads in Mark’s territory; Mark gave JP free reign to kill them). The sounds of pain were actually coming from JP… he was trying to heal the many injuries he had but it seems Julius had cursed him to feel pain when healing. So that sucks. The banging sounds were the legs of the captured anarch trying (hopelessly) to get away.

Mark went back downstairs to let JP … finish. When JP returned, he thanked Mark (‘I haven’t been able to feed like that in a long time’) and told him to send more his way if he could. Mark said that it would probably happen without him putting too much effort into it. Mark then gave JP the chain and lock and expressed his concerns with it not helping much; JP said it was just to buy a little bit of time should someone come to get it.

JP asked how Mark was doing with finding a way to resist blood bonds (without saying so directly) and Mark said he was working on it and should have an update soon.

I can’t really describe it but the awkwardness of their interactions KILLS me. They both actually know some of what the other is going through but not because they’ve actually talked about it… just due to shared feelings within the memory sphere. They both are risking their lives together for a shared goal and they’ve known each other for 3 nights. Mark is, at this point, JP’s main hope and Mark knows it. JP is not Mark’s only hope but he sure is his best chance and he also knows he’s what he could become if Julius finds out about his betrayal. It’s like they could have intense intimacy but instead of a faked forced distance from each other it's great. The normal pleasantries and social niceties for someone you’ve known for less than a week yet you know their deepest traumas. Hello? It’s great.

That’s the end of the JP content and the end of that night. When Mark goes home he emails Cassidy as they had already discussed seeing a movie together, and as well as this, Mark needs to ask Cassidy about getting access to books regarding resisting blood bonds (as Cassidy is in charge of the Chantry’s library at the moment).

Their email exchange is as follows, and each time Cassidy replies within 5 minutes:

—

Good evening Cassidy,

We’ve previously discussed meeting to see a movie together. I would still like to do so and I’m reaching out to ask what evening would be good for you. Please let me know, I could pick you up from the Elysium station.

Best regards,

Mark

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

Mark,

This Thursday night the theater I spoke to you about will be hosting a favorite of mine. My schedule will be open for most of the night up until 4:30am. It would be prudent for us to meet to discuss our investigation and to continue our important work together. Additionally, I would be able to continue my independent research at the theater with you there as well. I’ll be at the Chantry station at 11pm.

Enjoy your evening,

Cassidy

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

Cassidy,

This works well. I will be there at 11pm and we can go from there.

Regards,

Mark

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

Mark,

Agreed.

Cassidy

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

Anyway… goddamn nerds that they are, the time is set for later in the week night. Mark does have some time beforehand that night, which is intentional, as Sampson is going to drop off Mark’s cat and Mark has some business at Elysium.

Group session stuff happens in the next few nights, but the night they had planned to meet, Cassidy had emailed just confirming. Mark replied they were fine, and Cassidy replied once again, just writing “Mark,

Excellent.

Cassidy”

Which is so funny. He’s just glued to his computer I guess and has to ge the last word!

Sampson arrives soon after with Mark’s cat. He tosses it on the table and the cat gives a low deep ‘meow’. Sampson says he wants to talk to Mark about things and Mark kind of cuts him off - he doesn’t consider the apartment a safe place to discuss the blood bond to Julius and breaking it. So they leave together, after Mark opens the crate’s door so the cat can start getting acclimated to the house. Mark tries to think of a good place to discuss these things - he is uber paranoid of people listening in - he considers a shitty motel but dismisses that thought. They end up renting a study room at a library.

Sampson takes out handwritten notes and a vial from a bag he had. He explains that he had been talking to friends about these sorts of things. He says he has heard of the ‘vaulderie’ that breaks blood bonds, essentially replacing the old ones. (The info he has isn’t 100 percent accurate but Mark doesn’t know that). Mark recognizes it as a Sabbat term and asks how many kindred are required for it; Sampson isn’t sure but they both guess at least 3. Mark files away that information for potential future use but cannot think of 2 others that he would be willing to go through with it with, as well as this, breaking the bond at this time would likely result in his final death anyway.

Sampon has one other lead and says ‘but you’re gonna have to trust me’. Sampson won’t or can’t say anymore, but basically he needs a vial of Mark’s blood for a friend. Mark tries to get more info but Sampson says he really can’t give more. Mark tells Sampson he’ll do it but to make him forget after. Sampson tells Mark “fuck you” just before making him forget lol. Mark thus forgets the vaulderie thing and Sampson has to explain it again; Mark also questions if something happened due to missing time but Sampson obviously isn’t telling and Mark isn’t going to press him.

So we’ll see if that has disastrous consequences, but at least Julius won’t be able to find out that Mark willingly gave blood to try to break the bond.

On the drive back Mark asks if Sampson wants a car; Sampson would like one. Mark jokes that he could get *insert car they both thought was cool before* and Sampson says he hasn’t thought about that car in years. Mark kind of scoffs at the drama of it and says “like two years” and Samspon just comments that it feels like awhile ago. Geez dude. Anyway he’s gonna get that.

Now he goes to Elysium, because he wants to talk to the Hound who was investigating his break-in to another Tremere’s lab. Mark has already gotten off scott-free, but because he had G (the gargoyle) help he wants to make sure the gargoyles don’t have further consequences too.

There is more security at Elysium today; seems some important people are having a meeting. Mark doesn’t worry about that though, and tries to go to the Hounds’ offices (there is more than 1 hound in Detroit). He’s stopped by a guard, who ask his name and sire; Mark does say his sire’s name as he doesn’t feel Julius wouldn’t want him to and is allowed past. Nepo baby perks <3

He arrives at the Hound’s offices and hears music coming from inside; he knocks on the door and after the music is stopped and some shuffling around he is greeted by one of the Hounds who asks who he needs to speak to; Mark gives the name of the Hound who was doing the investigation who I forget the name of.

The guy is pretending to be professional but Mark comments that they can turn the music back on and he doesn’t mind; they all give each other a look (it’s very funny) and they do so. It’s salsa music. Now that things have become more relaxed, Mark feels more comfortable talking to him. It’s clear the hound doesn’t really care about this particular investigation and Mark has him agree to take no further action (meaning he won’t report to the Reagent about the gargoyle’s transgressions) for just a minor boon in the future. YAY! Mission Accomplished.

Mark then tries to leave so he can be on time for him and Cassidy meeting up. Unfortunately it looks like the Big Wigs had finished meeting and are leisurely making their way to the exit and Mark is not about to try to cross the guard’s line. It looks like all of the primogen, save Gaius, the Regent/tremere primogen, were meeting. Mark is able to notice blood one of their swords and on one of their boots. He can’t overhear the discussion but is able to make out the words “Basement” “River” “House” “Detroit”. This reminds him of the anarch house party Cassidy and him went to to try to find the Salubri, especially as the basement there was suspicious as hell, but Mark cannot be sure.

He hauls ass and is only 5 minutes late meeting Cassidy. At first he can’t find Cassidy but Cassidy pops up and they start pleasantries. Mark does tell him what he overhears; both of them think its good to know but there isn’t anything to be done at the moment.

Mark tells Cassidy about how he lost a coterie member (Bernard) but has gained a new one! (Rodriguez). He does not mention how Rose left the country as Cassidy had just mentioned how having the childe of a primogen in their coterie is a boon politically, haha.

Mark asks about Cassidy’s research and stuff but Cassidy actually doesn’t really want to talk about that unless Mark really really wants to; it seems he was just saying that over email to look professional since his emails are likely monitored. Instead he starts talking about the movie they are going to see “Man of the West” and how it is one of his favorites. Mark asks why and Cassidy says how, since he lived during the time it is intending to portray, he likes how ‘absurd’ it is, as well as how over the top it is, and how “masculine” it is. Which is an odd thing to say, for sure, but Mark isn’t about to comment. Cassidy says it is lucky that the theatre is playing this tonight.

They arrive at the theatre and the girl at the ticket booth is clearly Kyle OOC, but Mark isn’t sure. Cassidy does what it seems he usually does which is tell the ticketbooth person to ‘forget’ so he can just walk in (he has no money) but it doesn’t work since it is Kyle.. Mark realizes it probably is Kyle and so pays.

Cassidy keeps his face neutral/pondering but I bet he was embarrassed that it didn’t work, haha.

The theatre is mostly empty. Cassidy doesn’t want to talk during the movie obviously. He occasionally chuckles at scenes that are over the top.

Now, this is a real movie. Earlier in it, the villain holds a knife to the protagonists throat, and threatens to hurt him should a woman not undress in front of him. Later, in the climax, the protagonist is fist fighting the villain and starts to take HIS clothes off, telling him to see how it feels. He actually does remove his shoes, shirts, and first layer of pants (he still has underclothes, it is a 50s movie after all.) But still. It’s a charged scene and there is homoeroticism throughout the movie, as in most cowboy movies.

Mark is kind of surprised by this being one of Cassidy’s favorites and does sneak a glance at Cassidy, who is apparently glued to the screen and periodically chuckling.

The movie ends and they start discussing it on their way back. Cassidy asks Mark if he liked it; Mark replies that he also found it absurd and funny even without the context Cassidy has. Cassidy asks what Mark’s favorite scene was; Mark says it was that final climatic fight scene. Cassidy replies that that scene was also one of his favorites and he liked the “poetic justice of the protagonist taking off the other man’s clothes”.

Now, he clearly isn’t taking this movie seriously, so this comment comes out of left field and is a bit eyebrow raising. Cassidy asks what Mark liked about that scene and Mark hesitates. He replies that he thought it was surprising that he actually went and did it (taking off the other guys clothes) and he liked how they used the environment in the fight.

Cassidy comments that using the environment in fights also happens in a lot of kung-fu movies, and that on Thursday’s the theatre has kung-fu night - Cassidy goes on to say they do show more than kung-fu martial art movies; it’s more like Asian martial art night.

I forget how the conversation gets here but theres all sorts of interesting comments made and it culminates with Cassidy saying that the movie had many ‘undertones and themes’ he found interesting; Mark comments that lots of cowboy movies shared these themes and comments on how those are Cassidy’s favorites. Cassidy just says “indeed”.

He is Gay and testing the waters…….. Im normal. I didn’t do this conversation justice I was freaking out the whole time.

Cassidy says how this was fun and how he hadn;t done anything like this in a long time. Then straight up tells Mark he should pick the movie next time. Mark thinks about it and suggests Top Gun. Due to the homoeroticism. Continuing to test the waters you see. Mark does say he doesn’t think its likely the theater is going to play it though because its a late 80s movie and Cassidy says he knows the owner and can have them play it.

Which both me and Mark are internally like omg… he picked this movie for them to see together on purpose he lied about it being lucky… anyways…. . . . .

Cassidy is preparing to head down but then Mark nervously tells Cassidy he has to ask him something important, in a secure area. Cassidy says ok they can talk in the chantry and Mark has to explain no, really secure, like, and I hate to ask this, but your haven? Cassidy takes it seriously and says that he is free until 4:30am afterall so of course, they can talk.

On the way to his haven Mark asks what the first movie Cassidy saw was and he explains it was a silent film projected onto a barn wall on a sheet, about a princess stuck in a tower. A knight tries to save her but falls due to his armor being too heavy and she remains stuck. Not a good end. I hope this isn’t foreshadowing anything. Cries.

Mark and Cassidy arrive at Cassidy’s haven. Cassidy’s best friend Liliana is there as usual, Cassidy asks her to leave and she does so without too much issue. Cassidy got his new computer and TV set up and does something on his computer and Mark waits on the couch.

After that Mark tries to not act as desperate as he is, and says he understands this might be a lot to ask, and that Cassidy saying no wouldn’t mean he doesn’t want to see movies with him anymore than anything, the timing just happened to work out this way. Cassidy nods. Mark continues and says that he needs access to books in the library off the record. Cassidy says he is initially open to this as he can see how important it is to Mark (rip Mark trying not to be desperate) but he would need to know the details before he can commit.

Mark hesitates a lot but he does really need this, and so says its about resisting blood bonds. Cassidy agrees, and SHOCKINGLY to both me and Mark, does not ask for a boon. He comments that Mark ‘has been helping [me] a lot, even if not by totally by your own choice [referencing that he probably knows someone wants him to help his circle [[Julius does]]] and that his help has been critical’. Mark is super relieved and thankful.

Cassidy says the books can be here tomorrow and he’ll bring them to his haven. Mark asks if they will be out of view of Liliana and Cassidy says that there isn’t a reason to be concerned with her seeing Mark replies “Cassidy, I am concerned about even you knowing” and then Cassidy gets more serious. He says “if discretion is that necessary, I would be a fool not to ask for more” and now he says Mark would owe him a boon. Cassidy doesn’t seem happy to ask this but Mark expected this and says as such.

As they finish up Mark says “genuinely, thank you.” Cassidy replies “don’t be thankful yet. You don’t know what the boon is.” Which is a little scary but ok!

Mark goes home. The last thing that happens before the session ends is a cute interaction with his new cat, Bartholomew. He is a fuckin idiot cat and I love him.

He got lost in Mark’s apartment and so Mark listens for the meows to find him… somehow he got stuck in the air vent. The cat appreciates the catnip Mark got him but squirms when Mark tries to touch him, until Mark uses blush of life. Then he accepts Love <3 and Mark can pet his cat. Turns out Bartholomew is too stupid to be scared of kindred and just likes food. YAY! Mark had a GOOD NIGHT!

Here is Bartholomew:

His head is SO mfin empty. here is new jp art!: https://www.tumblr.com/blood-bound/732539471942287360/look-at-this-poor-motherfucker-ough-look?source=share&ref=_tumblr

#mark vtm oc

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 5 months

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what are your thoughts on ayaan hirsch Ali deciding to be a Christian?

Yeah, it's an interesting one. Keep in mind that Ayaan was the intended fifth participant at the Hitchens/Dawkins/Harris/Dennett conversation that became known as the Four Horsemen, but was unable to make it.

As a number of people have written, it doesn't seem to be a genuine belief in salvation through Jesus Christ.

It seems more... cultural and strategic.

Culturally, atheism doesn't offer anything, because it's only the rejection of unjustified god claims, not a worldview or a set of principles. So, you have to figure out the rest on your own, without the crutch of a magical space wizard.

And while Xianity may have resulted in certain cultural things, like the tradition of the university - which is currently a big issue of its own, but that's another post - art and architecture, those are not inherently "Xian." They're not prescribed by the bible or by the doctine. Human people have been inspired by it, just as they've been inspired by Xianity to put people on the rack, cut people into two while they're alive, and generally be vile and wicked.

It wasn't Xianity or "God" that painted the Sistine Chapel, it was Michelangelo. (And there's contention that he was all that inspired by Xianity anyway, given the Church was the only game in town.)

Religion doesn't actually provide the answers, it only provides the illusion of the answers. Humans will figure it out and post-hoc justify it with their beliefs.

Which is why behaving culturally "Xian" doesn't make you a Xian. Kenneth Copeland is a Xian, so are Westboro. As Richard Dawkins said in his letter to her, how you behave doesn't make you a Xian, it's what you believe. And unless she has accepted a belief in a magical zombie carpenter and that her afterlife is dependent upon being his buddy, she's not a Xian.

That's literally the only thing that makes you a Xian.

Strategically, it seems like Ayaan, as I do, sees Islam and Woke ideologies becoming emboldened and a greater threat to society. There's a war coming - not a literal one, but an ideological one, as Islam seeks to impose itself onto western civilization, and as Wokes, who live in first world-privilege, yet whine endlessly about being "oppresed," seek to dismantle the west.

Islam has gotten a huge boost from the pro-Hamas Woke idiots, many of whom have decided they agree with Osama bin Laden and the people who raped, burned and beheaded Israelis.

The Woke thing may be on the verge of crashing down, as the University president appearances before Congress have exposed the corruption that I and others have been talking about for years. The antisemitism isn't coming from the general population; it's coming from within the building, in the DEI bureaucracies where these beliefs are imposed onto new students, and in the corrupt, bogus courses that end in "Studies."

But joining Xianity to oppose these is not the way forward. It may be prudent to ally with them, but much of the forces within Xianity are opposed to anything other than their own religious order, so they need to be contained as well.

The difference is that we're in a position where we have well defined structures to oppose the impositions of Xianity - separation of church and state, secularism - and people are accustomed to exercising these mechanisms. Those same mechanisms equally apply to resisting the impositions of Islam and Wokeness, but people just aren't accustomed to exercising their secular machinery in this way. They've been taught that to do so is "Islamophobic," or "supporting racism and bigotry," when it's not.

So, I get why Ayaan would feel a need to seek "reinforcements," if you will, but again, that doesn't make her a Xian. If she doesn't sincerely believe in Jesus Christ as the son of god, born of a virgin, who died and rose from the dead, and through whom we are granted salvation. and eternal life... then she's not a Xian.

Lastly, what I will point out is that if you have not already figured out the meaninglessness and falsity of "identify as," you should no longer have any illusions. How can you "identify as" a Xian when you don't believe in salvation and eternal life through Jesus Christ?

#ask #Ayaan Hirsi Ali #christianity #atheism #Richard Dawkins #religion #religion is a mental illness

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dragonmuse · 2 years

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(Is this more 'I may be bad, but I'm prefectly good at it'. Yes! Is it one of the waiting asks...no. Because while there was clear concern about what Lucius would do if Izzy was injured, no one has yet thought to ask...what would Lucius do if something happened to Jim?

CW: Violence. So much violence. Also works as a summary! )

“Mail call,” Read tapped on the open office door. Lucius and Jim rarely closed it, but they both appreciated a little courtesy.

“Anything look interesting?” Lucius set down his tablet.

“Mm, bills and things. Sorted those out to take home to Izzy already, but there was a FedEx envelope addressed directly to you.”

Lucius frowned and held out his hand. She gave it over, hovering as he sliced it open with one of Jim’s older knives. He’d always been fond of it with its jeweled inset hilt. They’d given it up as unbalanced and now he kept it on his desk.

From the envelope, he pulled another envelope.

“Wasteful,” he tutted, then sliced that one open too, pulling free a folded bit of notebook paper and a small ziplock bag.

The bag was dotted in blood. The earring inside gleamed. He had put that in Jim’s ear himself for their thirtieth birthday, a cuff for their cartilage piercing, a snake coiled high on their ear. The stainless steel of it landed on his desk with on the quietest ‘tink’.

“Fuck,” Read said under her breath.

Lucius opened the letter, keeping his breathing deep and even.

“Mr. Spriggs,” he read off, “your incursion on our territory has gone on long enough. We have attempted to make that clear to you several times. The time for polite discussion is over. Call the following number and we will discuss our terms.”

“The Piper family?” Read guessed. She had gone pale, her eyes on the bag. “They don’t actually have Jim, do they?”

Lucius grabbed his phone and hit Oluwande’s name. It rang a few times and Lucius mind was blank, a white fuzz. He could not allow thought or feeling in.

“Luc?” Oluwande picked up. “It’s Jim’s day off, you know.”

“Are they with you?” He demanded.

“No, they were going to run a few errands, then go for a run.”

“How long have they been gone?”

“Shit,” Read whispered behind him.

“Couple of hours, maybe? I was half-asleep when they left. What’s-”

“If they walk through the door, you call me immediately, understood?”

“Why don’t you call them?” Oluwande was catching on, tension rising.

“Because if they’re not on the other end, I’m not interested in alerting whoever is that I’m looking already,” Lucius got to his feet.

“What’s going on? Should I be worried?”

“No. Because I’m going to take care of it,” Lucius hung up. “Read, bring the car around and have it running. I’ll be down as soon as I have an address.”

“Yes, Lucius,” she took off.

He crossed into Charlie’s office. Charlie had massive headphones on, concentration narrowed to his work. As soon as Lucius darkened the doorway, the spacebar was hit and the headphones came off.

“What’s up?”

“The Pipers have Jim,” Lucius growled. “I want the list of every property they’ve ever used for elicit shit and I want eyes in the sky.”

“On it!” Charlie didn’t hesitate, hands flying onto the keyboard. “Details?”

“Narrow perimeter to what can be reached by car in two hours. They had to incapacitate them entirely to make this work, they wouldn’t fuck around with planes or helicopters,” Lucius forced himself to think. “They’d need time to get the package to me, it looks legitimately FedEx’ed, so even rush, that’s an hour...two hours max by car. Maybe less. Probably within the city, but keep it open just in case.”

“I have the list of most of their spots already,” Charlie started pulling things up. “After the last ‘conversation’ seemed prudent.”

“Knock off any of the ones we’ve put on eyes on. I’d assume with this level of pettiness, they’ve figured out we’re scoping them out.”

“Got it.”

Lucius turned on his heels and went back into his office. With gritted teeth, he unbuttoned his shirt. This was not a day for Gucci. Halfway down, he ripped a button off in frustration and watched it ping across the room. Fine. He’d fix it later or throw it out. Shirt flung at the chair, he took off his marroned tassel shoes. Then he went to Jim’s side of the office, slid open the panel and took out a shapeless black hoodie, drawing it on. Steeled toed boots went on his feet, laces tied like he was trying to garotte his feet. The keycoded locker at the bottom opened to his stabbing finger and yielded up a few old friends.

“I got something!” Charlie yelled.

“Just one?” Lucius tightened a buckle.

“It’s got to be it, come see!”

Lucius crossed back into Charlie’s office and this time went around the desk. The monitor had a bland grouping of rectanglular buildings dotted with painfully even greenery.

“Corporate park,” Charlie explained. “There’s a whole suite of offices owned by one their shell companies and the warehouse behind it. Far as I can tell they do actually run a dry good distribution business out of it. I used satellite to track the morning traffic.”

He clicked into another window and showed a lone dark car pulling up to the back in the wee hours.

“No closer view?”

“Once you get close, I can maybe kite into the security cameras systems, but not from here.”

“Keep looking for other locations while we’re on route.” Lucius decides. “How far?

“Forty minutes.”

Lucius thread a hand into Charlie’s hair, yanked his head back and gave him a wet biting kiss, then released him.

“Stay in my ear.”

“Always,” Charlie handed him a comm. “Get them back.”

He store out of the office. When the elevator closed behind him, Lucius took out his phone again. He could do this on his own if he had to, but he wanted to bring every weapon he had. He hesitated only for an instant than made the call.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hi,” Lucius knew he sounded wrong it couldn’t bring himself to fix it. He had slid backwards in time. “I won’t be home for dinner, but I thought I could make it up to you. Want to go out dancing?”

One quick inhalation came over the phone. The voice that replied was not vague, not sleepy or checked out, “Send me the address.”

“On it.” Lucius' heart gave a betraying flutter. “I love you.”

He hung before there could be an answering reply. He texted the address as he walked out of the building into the passenger seat of the burner car.

“Where?” Read shot him a look.

“Get on the highway, I’ll give you directions.”

She gunned the engine. But he shook his head, “If we get pulled over, it’s precious time. Charlie is looking at the building, not the radar.”

“But-”

“We’d save seconds, unless we get pulled over and then we lose minutes.”

Read didn’t argue with that. She did stay in the left lane, but he was hardly going to argue the details. Now that most of what he could do was done and he was left just to sit there, he had to fight hard not to spiral. No one touched Jim. Mostly because Jim was faster and cleverer than most idiots put together. If they’d gotten the drop on them, it would’ve been either an ugly fight or something truly underhanded. Given that Jim hadn’t had time to send an alert, underhanded it was.

Turning through his mind was a list of Jim’s errand locations, their neighbors, and all the other incidental people that everyone had to deal with everyday. There was no perfect vacuum, but they had gone a long time being able to pretend they were both untouchable. Not that they’d ever gotten relaxed, but they had maybe gotten accustomed.

When this was done, Lucius was going to figure out where the leak had sprung from and close it up so hard and fast that someone’s head would spin off their neck.

“Boss?” Read prompted. “Exit?”

“Twenty-two,” he muttered.

“You going to be okay? You look kind of...”

“Kind of what?” he glanced at her. Didn’t yell. Read was solid. You don’t alienate solid people. Even if he wanted her to wither to dust just then.

“You know what? Nothing,” she decided. “I would be worse if it was Anne. I’ll just get us there.”

“Thank you,” he said and rested his forehead against the glass.

Pushing the edges of what would gain notice, Read got them there in thirty-seven minutes. At his direction, they parked several buildings away.

“Luc, there’s been some activity,” Charlie chimed before he could ask for an update. “Two more cars have showed, none have left. Cars that came in are both black, long. Maybe town cars? I can’t see. Are you close enough to pick up the WiFi?”

Lucius handed Read the phone. “Teenage dirtbag time.”

“On it.” She got out of the car and popped in her comm. From the back seat, she yanked out skateboard and pulled a beanie over her hair. With a rounding of her shoulders, she still sold the part.

She skateboarded out of sight. A minute later, Lucius heard the roar of a bike. He waited, watched as it pulled up alongside the car. The driver’s side door opened and a man in black slid in.

“Sit rep?”

“Read is trying to get Charlie patched into the building,” Lucius grimaced “Pipers have gotten big. Not dumb enough for my taste, but they love a movie moment. My bet is they’ve got Jim in the warehouse. If I make the phonecall, they’ll want to meet at some tacky ass resturant and then do some fucking trade skanky back alley. Two cars came in late, probably head of house.”

“That still Terry?”

“Yeah. The other one is probably his son, you remember him?”

Lucius turned Izzy at last. He was in his old tried and true, leather vest still laying perfectly over the black button down. They had done so many jobs like this: Lucius learning in the passenger seat, Izzy giving his terse lessons, really teaching more by doing. An echo of a different time. It made his chest ache which he couldn’t afford.

“Weaselly guy, skinny as a rail,” Izzy nodded. “...Philip.”

“That’s him.”

“Where do you want me?”

Because Lucius didn’t need to learn much anymore. And if he did, it wasn’t Izzy teaching him. This was his show and they both knew it.

“Distraction and penetration,” Lucius said without a hint of innuendo. “As lowkey as you can. Read is more blunt force, but you’ll have her if you want her.”

“I’ll take her,” Izzy nodded shortly. “We can go faster operating together. Comm?”

Lucius opened the glove compartment and pulled out the extra.

“Charlie, we’re adding a line.”

“What?” Charlie chirped in. “Who?”

“Hey sweetheart,” Izzy said gently as he popped in the earpiece.

“Oh shit,” Charlie’s voice pitched upwards in excitement. “Read had better get me in, I want to watch you work.”

“Not at the top of my game anymore,” Izzy huffed.

“Whatever, I bet your low bar is my high jump. I wanna watch.....hell yeah! I’ve got eyes and ears, gents. Fucking-A, they have a bad IT guy. Thanks, Read.”

“There’s a few guys out here,” Read put in. “I make four walking the grounds. One of ‘em used to work for the Lazarus Group. Is my cover still good with them, C?”

“Uh....checking......yeah, yeah, you came out of that operation clean. You went by Tina, you want more details?”

“Still pretty clear,” she assured him. “Want me to do a friendly, boss?”

“Perfect. I’m sending in backup for you. Listen to him, got it?”

“I always listen to him,” Read snorted. “Who else is going to save me from myself?”

“Damn right,” Izzy barked a laugh. None of them sounded particularly amused and Lucius was grateful that he didn’t have to be the tone police right now. Genuine humor would’ve made him rabid.

“C,” Lucius closed his eyes, “Where’s my entrance?”

“Grand or subtle?”

“Subtle.”

A tense silence.

“Got it, the offices next store are empty, but one of the fire doors leads into their warehouse. Probably a safety violation, but works in our favor. The line is dead from the back payments, nothing should go off, but the emergency bar should still work. Alternative-”

“Tell me the alternate only if the first one doesn’t work,” Lucius bit off. “No time for plan Bs. They know I haven’t called yet, they’ll get antsy. Any questions?”

Silence.

Lucius exhaled and opened his door, “Go,”

It was still broad daylight, but Izzy was remarkably good at melting into the few shadows left to him. Lucius didn’t bother trying, he just walked unassuming around the building and waited his three minutes pretending to be lost and looking at his phone as he wandered closer.

“They’ve got all the perimeter guards down,” Charlie said in his ear. “The back right window of the abandoned office is cracked open.”

Lucius tapped the comm rather than reply, a signal that he was going quiet, but was fine. He moved across the lawn separating the two buildings. The cracked window was there, a little higher than he could’ve asked for. This kind of gymnastics was Jim’s specialty, but he did keep in shape in his own way.

With a running leap, he got hold, scrambled and got enough purchase. It was a sweaty, awkward maneuver to get the window to open wider, but he made it and slid gracelessly to the floor. The office was as empty as Charlie had promised.

“Door?”

“Down the hall and on the left.”

“Anyone on the other side?”

“The hall is clear.”

Lucius bolted and went through the door heedlessly. On the other side, he drew out his gun and attached the silencer.

“Get me to the warehouse.”

“Go right, there’s a guy pacing back and forth, I can time you to get by him. Or do you want a run in?”

“Time me.”

Charlie got him through two more doors and then he was in the warehouse. It wasn’t large as those things went, but it was clearly a working business, the shelves groaning with inventory and desks and the debris of life in the way. There were no people immediately visible.

“Sorry, Luc, no cameras in here.”

That figured. Annoying, but meant that if they had Jim, it was likely here. No cameras in the dirtiest spots. He kept quiet and moved slowly. Jim had always told him if he wasn’t able to be quiet to at least move slow. Too quick was a recipe for disaster.

The sound of voices whispered down through the back right corner. Lucius ducked around and there was Jim. They had wisely tied them down to a chair, each ankle to a rung and wrists separately zip tied to the back. The lighting was bad, but Lucius could see blood trickling from one ear and a rising bruise around one eye. They were breathing. That mattered more than anything else. Other things were fixable.

If Jim died…no. No.

No.

He wouldn’t think about that.

There were three men around the chair. Foolish. An underestimation of Jim’s skills. Lucius inhaled, exhaled. Waited for one to come close to his hiding place. Then he lashed out and buried the knife into the man’s neck, drawing him close as a shield, got out his gun and shot the other two. It took four bullets, but they fell before they drew their own weapons. A fifth ended the guy in his arms as Lucius pushed him to the floor.

He kept his gun out, even as he went to Jim, crouching in front of them.

“Jim?” He asked as he pulled out his smaller knife.

“Luc,” they groaned, eyes flickering open. “Left ankle. Think they broke it while I was out.”

He clipped that restraint first, careful as he could. “You ear?”

“They ripped the earring out,” they sighed. “Going to have to pierce the other one.”

“I’ll get it done with you this time.,” he promised. “Make a night of it.”

He reached into his pocket as he got their wrists and pulled out the comm, fitting it to their ear.

“Hey,” they said gruffly.

“Jim!” Charlie fire out happily.

“C. There’s at least fifteen grunts doing donuts around the place. Maybe more.”

“Team got six already.”

The radio next to Lucius’ foot crackled.

“Intel team, report in,” someone demanded.

“I want the duo hacking towards father and son,” Lucius kicked the radio away, then got Jim free. “They don’t get to leave.”

“Relaying,” Charlie said.

“Not sure I can stand,” Jim admitted as Lucius faced them.

“Then we’ll make it work,” Lucius slid his arms under their armpits and heaved them up into a tight embrace. Jim held him back. For a single beat they cling to each other. Then Jim’s hand found it’s way into his waistband, seizing on the weight there.

“Sentimental,” they smiled against his neck.

“Just for you,” he agreed and raised his gun, taking most of their weight. “I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine.”

“Always. Ready, my hyena?”

“If you are, dear coyote.”

The doors banged open, bodies streamed in. Jim raised their arm, their old favorite gun in hand. They’d kept it in the weapons storage locker and Lucius had grabbed it partially because he knew it was loaded, partially because as Jim had accused, he had some sentiment left in his heart. He balanced over their right shoulder, and then it was a shootout.

“Fuck,” Jim hopped a little trying to get a better angle.

Lucius picked off another man, “Jump.”

Jim skipped upward and he grabbed them under the thighs with his free hand. Their legs went around his waist, rebalanced and they didn’t miss a beat. Groans and grunts filled the space and Lucius started back the way he’d come, Jim keeping an eye on his back, legs locked until they were in hall that Charlie pronounced,

“Clear.”

Jim slid down, grabbing Lucius’ shoulder for balance. “I can hop.”

“You tell me if you need to stop,” he slid his left arm around their waist. “I can carry you if I need to.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as it fucking takes.”

For a brief second, Jim rested their cheek against his shoulder, then nodded.

“Fine,” they said tightly. “Charlie, sit rep.”

“Team is closing in. Hostiles are down to targets and their bodyguards.

“Team,” Lucius went a little looser. He had Jim. The rest was point proving, “hold. Find positions. We’re coming in.”

“Hell yeah,” Read whispered into the comms, “I saw a good spot...and he’s gone. Wow. That’s so fucking cool.”

“Right?” Charlie said over comms, his giddiness matching Lucius' own rising dark glee.

“Fan club later.”

“Fan club over who?” Jim frowned.

“You’ll see,” Lucius was laughing now, the rising tide of a laugh that had earned him his codename from Jim long ago.

It always made them burst a little too.

Which was how they came into the office of the Pipers, four beefy bodyguards holding them down the sights of their gun as they laughed their way inside. Terry Piper sat behind a big desk, two guest chairs laid out on the other side. Philip, who was indeed quite the weasley type, stood just behind him.

“Do you usually laugh at your own execution?” Terry eyed them warily. “What is wrong with you, Spriggs? We could’ve worked this out like reasonable men.”

“Oh could we have?” Lucius smiled wide at him. “Was it reasonable to take my partner from under my nose? Jim, did it feel reasonable?”

“It fucking well didn’t.”

“Mm.”

“We tried other ways. But clearly you are a mad dog,” Terry went on, “and mad dogs should be put down.”

“Why are you only talking to me?” Lucius sighed. “Is it sexism or racism? What do you think, Jim?”

“Why not both?” They asked dryly. “It’s usually both.”

“We’re not doing PC bullshit right now,” Terry got to his feet, turning red. “I am threatening your fucking life with the odds very much against you.”

“Are they?” Jim blinked. “I don’t see a threat.”

“I mean the one on the right can probably throw a hell of a punch,” Lucius allowed. “The guy behind him....did I suck your dick in Nirvana once?”

“Shut up!” the guy twitched.

“Yeah. It was eh, honestly. C, why does no one ever wash their fucking balls enough?”

“Oh my god,” Charlie was snickering into the comms. “I ask myself that once a week.”

“You listen to me, you jumped up fairy-”

“Now would be good,” Lucius decided.

Shots rang out. The bodyguards went down. Izzy and Read came from oppisote sides of the room until their guns kissed the backs of Terry and Phillip’s necks respectively.

“You brought him in?” Jim clung to Lucius’ tighter. “Luc.”

“For you, I’d bring in the moon,” he kissed their cheek, just missing the rising bruise. “C’mon, you should sit down.”

“Yeah, all right.”

Lucius got them settled in one of the chairs that had been setup for them and then slumped down into another.

“C, how are we sitting on outside attention?”

“No dispatches,” Charlie hummed, “no one looky-looing in the parking lot. It’s isolated. Building is big, you’re through about five walls right now in the front, backs out onto the river. I’ll keep out an ear, but I think you’re golden.”

“Beautiful,” Lucius stretched his legs out in front of him. “Your play.”

“Mm,” Jim hissed a little as they shifted, then rolled their neck until something clicked. When their eyes rose up to meet Terry’s they were as cold as the arctic. “Seems to me we have a few options here, Terry. I know you’ve got a few layers beneath you. Probably already signaled to them that things were going south. But I’ll guess they aren’t close.

“You got the drop on me, congru-fucking-lations. Here’s your courtesy prize: I will give you some say in the outcome of all this.”

“Even if you kill us both, our organization is ten times the size of yours.”

“Is it?” Jim nodded slowly. “Good for you. So. Options. We can leave you alive, you pack up your shit and you take your operations back to the city you came from. You could live a good life there, still be rich and operate so far out of our reach that we won’t even think of your name again.”

“Fuck you,” Terry spat. “We’ve put down deep roots here. For longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Mm, you might want to hear all the options,” Jim went on. “Because option two, is we kill you and Phillip here agrees to do the same.”

“Never!” Philip’s lips said. ‘I’m listening’, said the eyes. Point to Jim.

Terry went silent, nostrils flaring, “Option three is you take me out and everyone in my org hunts for your blood until your smears on the ground.”

“Charlie, speaker,” Jim ordered.

“Sure thing,” his voice rang out from the comms, coming from every direction.

“Tell the man how loyal his org is.”

“Okay, so our plant has only been in for...mm, let’s round up to a month. They’ve reported high dissatisfaction. I alerted him while you guys were driving and he picked off a few of the malcontents pretty easily, then offered some serious cash to the ones on the fence. Offered jobs to the two that you picked out earlier, Jim....so...mm. That’s thirty or so men?”

Lucius whistled low, “What’s that bring them down to size-wise versus us?”

“Seven times,” Charlie went on. “Which would be a problem, but half of those are background staffers, not gunmen. I suppose you could arm them, but it’s a little late in the game for that. So let’s cut it down to three times.”

“And C,” Jim tipped their head back to study the ceiling. “How many of those remaining men were here today?”

“Twenty.”

“How many are left alive?”

“Four.”

“My math isn’t strong,” Jim said to the ceiling. “But I think that makes us nearly even.”

“Close enough,” Lucius agreed.

“So,” Jim went on, “let’s say this. I’m not fucking impressed by your numbers or your threats. What I have is you and a gun to your head. Your actual option three is....no option three. Either you do what we ask or we kill down the line of command until someone does.”

“No one operates like this anymore!” Terry gritted out. “This is how people get caught, don’t you understand that? You can plow through people in this day and age. No one will work with you, your tainted goods!”

“Oof,” Lucius rubbed his chest. “Hurtful.”

Jim lifted their head, and then reached into their pocket pulling out the knife that Lucius had been carrying. “So option two then.”

They threw it with precision and Izzy let the body slump over the desk. All eyes went to Phillip.

“I think we’ve seen enough blood today,” Phillip swallowed thickly. “Really. I’ve always hated this city anyway. We’ll go.”

“Do you have the support for that?” Jim wondered.

“Good question,” Lucius said.

Read and Izzy were still looking a little twitchy. Phillip nodded rapidly, “If I don’t, then I’ll uproot as much as I can and tell you what’s staying behind, how about that?”

“That counts on us having a lot of trust and good will, Phillip,” Lucius tsked. “Might be out of that today.”

“We know about vengeance,” Jim said solemnly, leaning over to pull their knife back out. “And how ruthless it can be.”

“I hated the old man,” Phillip looked at the body with distaste. “Ask anyone.”

“It’s true,” Charlie was back in just their ears. “Our plant says they fight all the time. Bitter stuff. Threatening to be disowned, yada yada.”

“Leave him then,” Jim decided, then glanced at Lucius.

“Yes,” Lucius agreed. “All right. We leave our plant, you don’t fucking look for them. If we hear you are, then we take that as an act of war. Understood?”

“Understood,” Phililp said readily.

“We’ll withdraw them on the day the last of the Pipers leave the city. If we hear of anyone tipping off other families. War. If we find out you’re lying to us. War. If you ask one nosy question we don’t like. War. And if you’re fucking stupid enough to try law enforcement. War.” Jim reached for Lucius’ forearm, standing up carefully. “We will be watching you, Phillip Piper. Luc?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to go home.”

“Then home we go.” He got to his feet, got his shoulder under their arm and led them out the door with perfect confidence that Izzy and Read were covering them.

None of them spoke as they passed through the halls and back out into the cloudless sunny day. Even Charlie was quiet. When they got to the car, Read helped Jim into the backseat. While Izzy bent over their ankle, inspecting without touching.

“You can’t fuck around with this,” he declared. “Above my pay grade.”

“We don’t pay you to heal us,” Jim grunted.

No one offered a response to that, least of all Izzy.

“Hospital outing!” Lucius clapped his hands together. “But first clean change for everyone and maybe we all wash our hands, huh?”

There was a cache not far from corporate and Lucius kicked Read out of the car to carefully help Jim change their pants. The sock on their broken foot had to be left, but blood there could be explained away.

“Don’t need shoes,” they decided. “I got jumped coming home from the grocery store. File a police report when we get there.”

“Is that what happened?” He asked, hand on their knee.

“My arms were full,” they grimaced. “And it was broad daylight. Crowded street. Someone had a brain. Kicked me in the ankle first, hard. Probably at least started the break then. I went down and before could get up, they faked a Good Samaritan ‘helping’ picking up the groceries and clocked me on the head. I didn’t go out, but everything went gray for a second. Long enough.”

“Head wound?”

“Probably,” they closed their eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“How dare you be infallible,” he said lightly.

“Luc. I know, okay? You can joke, but you’re pissed.”

“I’m not,” he squeezed their knee. “I’m not. We’ve been so lucky. And maybe we needed the reminder.”

“Could’ve done without it.”

“Same.”

“You think Izzy will go back home after this?”

“Where else would he go?”

“You know what I mean.”

Lucius rested his forehead on Jim’s knee. Their hand went into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.

“I think so. He only came out for you.”

“He’s still fast as hell.”

“Mm.”

“You sleep next to him.”

“I do.”

“Don’t hold groceries in both hands, hyena.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Let’s get you seen too.”

“Oluwande?” they asked, voice a little small.

“Of course. I’ll send a service for him.”

When they went into surgery, Izzy turned to Lucius, eyes bright and sharp.

“It was good to see you work,” he said simply.

“Thanks, darling,” Lucius smiled at him. Izzy leaned in and brushed a kiss over Lucius’ cheek.

“Do you want Jim and Oluwande to stay with us tonight?”

“Oh yes,” relief rushed through him. He hadn’t even considered it, but yes obviously he wanted them close.

“I’ll make oxtail soup,” Izzy nodded.

“Their favorite,” Lucius summoned a smile for him. “You’re too good to us, you know that, right?”

“Just doing what needs doing.”

Izzy went back home once Jim’s was out, a little dopey, but relaxed and with a good prognosis. He made soup that they all ate, including Read and Charlie, at the big dining room table. The downstairs guest room was made up for Jim, who couldn’t tackle the stairs to their usual set aside room.

Lucius slept easily, one hand resting over Izzy’s heart. His other hand he kept under the pillow. Ready. Just in case.

A month later, the last of the Pipers fled the city. A few of the older, more dedicated members needed a little persuasion, but in the end it was mostly painless. The new recruits, who had defected, were given the territory to run with the understanding they answered to Jim ultimately. No one argued.

Jim had a cast for six weeks, then went into intense physical therapy, relentless with themselves. The day came when no one would know anything had ever happened. Lucius and Jim went to their favorite tattoo parlor and got fresh piercings. Jim’s torn out earring went into his ear and he gave them a new one, very similar with two bright emeralds in the snake’s eyes.

“Why did you take theirs?” Charlie asked when Lucius ducked back into the office to fetch him.

“A reminder,” Lucius leaned in the doorway. He was tired today, too much anticipation over the appointment wearing him thin. Ridiculous that he was more worried about a needle in his ear than a gun pointed at his head, but these things never did make sense.

“Of what?” Charlie approached, sliding an arm around Lucius’ waist.

“That everyone bleeds,” Lucius pulled Charlie hard against him, kissed whatever questions might have followed away. “Come one. We’ll be late for dinner.”

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #i may be bad but i'm perfectly good at it

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kyousystem · 7 months

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One depression nap later, I'm feeling less hostile and bitter. I'll take the improvement, heh.

Still, one thing that's been weighing on me for quite a while is this impression I've gotten that, if you're strange, or troubled, or weird, or otherwise have screws loose in your head, there's this... expectation, almost, that you should be very open and almost performative about it? Or rather, perhaps more pertinently, if you AREN'T vocal about it, you're assumed to be boring or pretty much normal except maybe having some weird energy / tastes.

Let me explain: I was born crazy—among other things, I was a clinical kleptomaniac as a kid, and I don't think a single day went by at elementary school where I didn't get in trouble at least once—and I've only become increasingly warped in numerous different ways as time has gone on, years of therapy notwithstanding.

However, thanks to my... upbringing, we'll say, I ended up becoming very private, very reserved, and very quiet, preferring to let others do most of the talking and generally keeping my thoughts, feelings, and eccentricities to myself, even among friends. I also prioritized developing self-control over most everything else, so that my impulses and intrusive thoughts would stop landing me in hot water.

It's thanks to this dissimulation and focus that I managed to survive my younger years (albeit not in one piece), and that I've been able to function in "normal" society as well as I have without arousing suspicion... but now it almost seems like I've become TOO good at it.

Indeed, wearing your weirdness on your sleeve looks to be in vogue now, and as a result, I feel like my propensity toward discretion and my careful control of my words and my self has left me stranded squarely in the gap between the "normal" and "weird" social circles: Having attributes of both, yet belonging to neither.

(Not that I actually have attributes in common with what constitutes "normal" society these days: Neurotypicals here in the West are some of the absolute LAST people to exercise restraint, discretion, self-control, a desire for self-betterment and self-actualization, or really any sort of prudent virtue, I've found, heh.)

Perhaps I'm overthinking it. I've likely said too much in any case.

#txt

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silversiren1101 · 1 year

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Stuck in a writing rut again so just going to stop feeling shame on working with so many WIPs since context switching actually helps me in this regard!

Enjoy some Hellknight bureaucracy (lol) from the pre-canon Mino origin fic

The Master of Blades laid down the last page of the report that’d been presented to him approximately one hour ago. His now freed hand pinched at the bridge of his nose as he worked through the details once again. It’d been thorough enough, consisting of several dozen pages despite the short turnaround time and necessary speed of the investigation. He had a much clearer understanding of the situation now, but, still, there was one lingering mystery pressing on his mind. One that his pride and conscience would not allow him to go unanswered.

“Well, bring her here”, Jaisade’s voice was gruff as he exhaled the words more than spoke them. The hour was late. He was exhausted. This situation had thrown the usually well-oiled operations of his men, especially given the war still raging around them, into just-barely tolerable delay, and it was only through burning the midnight oil that things hadn’t become completely derailed.

But this could not wait until the morning. Time was of the essence.

Not his, at least.

The knight standing before his desk, features dark and pale skin typical of a Chelaxian, tilted his chin at the order. Maralictor Strawn shifted his grip where his hands dutifully clasped behind his back, the motion betrayed by the subtle sound of armor clinking, and his expression took on an air of mild confusion. Whether out of deference to the chain of command or some innate aversion to questioning orders, however, the younger knight did not immediately speak up.

Jaisade felt a twinge of annoyance. It was too late for this.

“You have your orders.” He stared pointedly at Strawn, voice perhaps sharper than usual on account of his exhaustion. “Unless you object, Maralictor?”

Strawn shifted again. His balance bounced from foot to foot as if his thoughts themselves had weight as he assessed whether they were worth speaking aloud. A nod ultimately preceded his decision.

“Sir, would it not be more prudent to speak to her within her cell?”

“‘Prudent’?”, Jaisade repeated the word back, enunciating to show exactly what he thought of the implication. “By your own report you’ve concluded that she is not a criminal in this situation. Do you think her a danger even so? Or that she will attempt anything once freed?”

Strawn, to his credit, remained resolute as the questioning took a sudden turn towards interrogation. He would go far in their ranks, so long the war didn’t lead to a premature end like with so many other promising young officers.

“No, I do not, Sir. If only for the current physical state she is in.”

The ghoul fever, Jaisade caught the implication. Even if she were to succumb the very instant she was brought here, it would kill her first. She’d rise again not until the next night.

“All the more reason for expedience, then, of which I hope you see the importance of. As for your objection, you have written, expressly—”, Jaisad looked down at the documents before him and pointedly read about the closing remarks on the cover. “—’conclude the survivor’s story is legitimate’.”

He then laid the paper back down with a finality, and stared at Strawn yet again, the annoyance palpable in his tired features though he could not see them himself. “There is no declaration of any wrongdoing, proven or suspected, anywhere in your assessment of the investigation and this woman at the center of it. This is correct?”

“It is, Sir.”

A look of something like recognition settled into those dark eyes. Strawn had misstepped. His report said she wasn’t a danger. His objection suggested otherwise. When challenged, he backed down, deferring to his report. It was a contradiction that could have been lethal had the woman in question actually been of any threat and his report passed off to other knights, believing her to be safe to handle.

Jaisade knew it was only because he was paying heed to protocol that he suggested the questioning continue in her cell. Still, the lesson was there, and prudence was still apt in meaning. There was a time in place for blindly following protocol and abiding by common sense.

“Then…”, Jaisade exhaled, “trusting your report, which I choose to do so: this woman is not guilty, is not a danger, and thus no longer needs to be detained.”

It was not a question as much as it actually was, and Maralictor nodded in both understanding and affirmation.

“I rescind my objection, Sir.”

“Very well. Now, I would speak with this woman as I would any other petitioning civilian. Bring her here.”

Strawn saluted in response, issuing a well-practiced, “Yes, Sir”, in perfect tandem to his motions. A sharp nod served as Jaisade’s acknowledgement and subsequent dismissal, to which the younger knight wasted no time in departing the room to fulfill his orders.

The door to Master of Blade’s office closed with a rattle—that damned rattle—but, this time, Jaisade hardly paid it any mind. His thoughts were too preoccupied, heavily weighed by the contents of the report that had been previously neatly assembled on his desk, now lightly scattered as he’d used the pages to stress his point.

More specifically, his thoughts were on the survivor. His weary eyes, grey as the hairs beginning to silver despite not even having reached forty years yet, scanned the report’s cover page for what must be the dozenth time.

#work: ???#silversirenwrites #oc: minovae arangeir #hellknights #pathfinder #please know this fic is going to be soooo much hellknight posturing and bureaucracy and politics lmao #i love writing things like this im so sorry

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imaaa · 1 year

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pov: you're reading the ending of a strangers-to-lovers story.

two years ago, whenever i thought of romantic love, my instincts used to force me to be prudent and therefore did not allow me to imagine myself as the person who is on the receiving end of love. so i usually stuck to the point of view of the giver. but that did not mean i did not long for love; i did, a lot. but i consistently made efforts not to think a lot when it came to how it would feel like to receive it because i was not sure if i would ever be a recipient of it or not. but i was confident about the giver in me. i was certain of my capabilities of giving out love. but then again, even when i was sure of giving, i was oblivious to the potential i held when it came to offering love. until. until you sowed seeds of love in me that were meant to grow day by day. and they are still growing.

i have spent an enormous amount of time reading and analyzing you extensively. over the years, after having read numerous proses and quotes, i have understood that it is not the person that we love but it's our interpretation of them that is what we are actually drawn to. but then again, you must have got something marvelous in you that all my interpretations conclude the same thing, and that is that you are abundantly beautiful. i have probably told you so — a hundred times, if not more — but i believe you have already gathered that i love repeating myself when i want to put emphasis on something. and that is why time and time again, i rephrase the same thing to convey how bewitching i find you.

you must be feeling like i am exaggerating — i am well aware of this quality of mine — but in this case, i am not. i am just trying to put forward my gratitude for letting me discover how heavenly it is to be able to love someone. and i am grateful that you accepted the love i had to offer. i was a giver in search of a receiver, and i could not be happier that you turned out to be the recipient. and now that i have the opportunity, i also want to thank you for allowing me to experience what it feels like to be sitting on the chair of the receiver of love. the gentleness of reassurance, the tenderness of being held, the softness of all the embraces, i am beholden to you for all.

but now, i am forced to encounter the agony that is birthed by the existence of love. i do not wish to live days stained with dullness when i have become so accustomed to vivid colors. it startles me that i had the fortune of knowing what it is like to be breathing colors and assuming their existence to be infinitely long. but now that i am aware of their scarcity, all i can feel is sorrow for my future self.

it is hard to picture all of my tomorrows because all of them paint my face with tears of your absence. and i think, i think i will not be able to continue writing this letter because it is unbearable to put your name next to a goodbye when all i have known is attaching it to all of my beginnings.

#lifeandverses

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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years

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besides the actual primary hope for any season of billions, which is taylor mason material that can be enjoyed b/c what the hell is the point otherwise, it’s like hey can rian like i don’t know. become comprehensible as a role and you know obviously the main way to define that is like, way to have made The Primary Thing about this character now her being involved in this already semi existent, mostly potential sex scandal, for the love of christ can you instead make the main thing about her character Other Shit She’s Doing, and also can there be an established context of “why is she doing that shit” like, just go ahead and let us know why she is motivated to still be here when her being noncommital & aspiring to up & walk out eventually was a whole thing. is she still just waiting on those camping trip numbers? is her relationship with taylor now like “wow i’m a part of something so i’ll stick around” motivation? could we know what tf that relationship is exactly lmao. why is it suddenly a factor that taylor makes a pass out of the blue and rian’s like sorry, i’m afraid of how much i would love you. is that weird like standing [love interest] status hanging over things indefinitely? is the potential for more of that sex scandal material going to hang over them & us indefinitely or was the point “wow, this is some shit, right? anyways” which we can’t know ig until prince gets run over by a bus and it’s like well i guess that was never brought up again, thank god

b/c really it’s like, highdarknesses (opposite of highlights) quotes from brian koppelman podcastingly interviewing eva victor there are him saying “there’s nothing anyone can do about that” re: winston liking rian, flippant at the time but wretchedly all the more so in retrospect clearly when for some reason it was an extended joke on winston. but even more so going What The Hell about his remark that in introducing rian she was always meant to be A Major Player when like. sure there was some prominence in “here’s rian being this mentee / foil for taylor” certainly, relevant to us, fun source of interesting taylor material, but really only relevant To taylor. the majorest thing she did otherwise was help them set axe up for the end of s5 there. and then she hasn’t really affected much of anything besides [character material for taylor] (this is the most important thing you can do, but like, in terms of broader plot relevance here) until again suddenly everything about her character that happened prior was like “uhh i guess taylor’s like ‘we could be romantically involved’ now” and then even less relevantly, all the shit from jumping prince’s bones b/c even though the last thing she does prior is tell taylor how prudently she’s Already considered their potential romantic involvement & deemed it unwise but also she’s already now Worrying about the potential consequences of taylor’s feelings in the wake of this rejection. and then we’re supposed to believe that she does not then, nor has she similarly prior, thought about Any Consequences At All for fucking the public figure billionaire who’s everyone’s boss and even plausibly shittier than apparently she assumes atm??? when the only thing i think he’s Supposed to have going for him here (besides the convenience of this being his terrible looking apartment and apparently rian being like well the one consequence i’ve thought of is if i’d be in love through work, which i wouldn’t be here, which is funny, but these things hardly seem like Reason Enough) is what, it’s supposed to be like ooh he’s so [you’re not hot you’re in the mcu] bland rando attractive? if she’s noticed this ahead of time like again call me [kind of a dilf reblog] mclovin, based on what you’ve Just told us about the character, would she not have thought about the complications of actually doing so, same as she’s just instantly ready with a lil let em down easy speech for taylor should they suddenly proposition her one of these days. like clearly we just have to accept [nobody understands why rian As A Character would do this, or more so, not Not do this] because this lets this plot point happen that they want to have happen

it really smacks of like. so did you write in this new A Young Woman character b/c it’s like hey on the one hand, taylor can have a mentee for the first time when that’s a fun development for a character who started off as axe’s foil mentee intern, and on the other hand, since we’ve also introduced prince this season and already know the major general shit about the character, we can next season reveal the extend of his asshattery and i guess Kind Of touch on “things can get fucked up with young women and men in power especially significantly older ones huh” like yeah, and then to explore that we need A Young Woman, and that’s how rian ends up being more of a plot device than a character in the most relevant material she’s ever gotten? Feminism Win we’re introducing one of now three (smash cut to mid s6) one of now four (smash cut to the next episode) one of now three women at this fund and our biggest plan for her is to be the A Young Woman in a sex scandal that’s About this new central character so we can be surprised at how shit he is (=

And when that comes into play it’s also like okay uh is she now just this standing love interest for another character. like that’s fine in theory, the dynamic is baffling in practice, but it’s also sure like. yep this is sure a character who’s a woman huh and is now This more relevant than being taylor’s mentee? are their interactions now Mostly in the context of being each other’s Theoretical love interest, or like, are they friends or. dunno. anyways it’s still like billions there’s all of two other women at prince cap rn. i know others have names and even occasional dialogue but there’s three women here. so

and like one can examine this generously like well hey. in ways this kind of creates this Immersive Experience lmfao like wow i fucking hate this & having this hanging over us forever now & what a goddamn disaster like well that’s rian’s situation now too, except yknow. even from that angle, (a) this is what’s applied to a third of the named, significantly bedialogued women in this place and (b) loathed that this was happening entirely Before the finale when it supposedly shifted into obviously being a problem, and Not because of anything like wow thought prince was such an okay guy, i can’t believe he’d use people around him on a whim for his own entertainment and gratification and despite knowing his own power / insulation and that what he takes advantage of can be huge problems for the people he’s using, he just needs there to be enough active participation to then turn the blame on you like well *i* knew this was a bad idea and a worse idea of yours but that’s on you, try getting some more power about it and if you can’t that’s Also on you....and is the meta “wow yeah we hate this curse too” element worth it here. like This is primarily what the character is for now. great. and Again like “ooh maybe this Consumes the future of the character just as it would for her as a person” like great except again, is it worth it like everything else abt this character is now subsumed & consumed by this? And what would really make most sense is rian just peacing out at this point, but since she’s here still it’s like. Why. what’s her motivation for doing things at this point. apparently she does have a future but because her most prominent material here involved her being more Plot Device / A Woman Who Can Be Given As Much Dialogue As You Want than [everything more specific / any details about the character] it’s like see, i don’t even know what else you would’ve done with the character anyways now. or like “wow just like irl, a sex scandal here would reduce someone to Some Woman rather than a person” wherein this is Not just like irl b/c a character is only representative of a theoretical Person, rather than actual people being actually people, and also we Do already know rian as a character with all these other details even if i couldn’t really tell you w/much confidence what exactly she’s like or what her motivations are, and since she’s still here we will in fact continue to see more specifics about her as this theoretical person, and the whole point of this post is that “and i hope to god that the material doesn’t Just make it all about ‘boy i hope i’m not caught up in prince’s Image Problems sex scandal’” like idk do something with her lol, and i don’t know What, b/c what else is going on with her? being friends with taylor? still being mentored? really not sure. maybe she’d have more to do in tmc if taylor’s busier with coheading but like, alright, she was already the sole employee for all intents and purposes. make something up i guess

and tragic that an actual friendship b/w rian & winston doesn’t seem possible, nail in the coffin moment when rian will start up an exchange with winston like “haha taylor’s antics, right” and winston’s like “haha yeah” and rian will interrupt like “fuck you, too obnoxious much?” and winston will go “for fuck’s sake :\” like at this point just pretend she’s not there if she’s trying to talk to you, rian’s approach has to change if there’s going to be any genuine positive relationship here at all and there’s zero indication she’s going to change it, so. alas that being established as similar to taylor has this difference of like, taylor shows up and goes “oh this is my funny little guy” and their friendship with him is one of the most important things in their life still, rian shows up and goes “oh this is my funny little guy” and is a devoted bully to this one specific person in a way nobody else around here has ever been. which frankly is Interesting, one of the most interesting things going on with her still like, why’s rian have this bullying tendency that she lets out so immediately and easily and often, and for this long, and with zero indication she’s ever reflecting on the issue? But for this to be actually explored, it’d need to be, you know, actually explored, and b/c of that indication rian’s going to do any reflection or change, seems like another character would need to Note the situation and say anything to her about it that might yield some further analysis, but so far so [nobody has ever done that], would make most sense for taylor to do so as someone who knows winston and knows rian and also these are both their employees and rian’s their mentee or what have you. but anyways it’s like, despite the fact they’re Not friends like mafee and taylor are, sure is Already still inherently more interesting that like, rian’s character just becomes livelier / more elevated when interacting with winston on average, even if half the time that means giving him shit; it still applies. like, again, if rian talking with wags for some reason is Classic / Standard Rian it’s like. oh ok. it’s not that interesting lmfao like she’s....slightly more spontaneous than other characters. has a slight element of individual flair even though that’s been diminished from the degree of 5x05 through 5x07 / pre hiatus rian’s flair tbh. might be allowed to be ambiguous sexuality’d if The Person she was in a relationship with where like bounds & individual privacy beget suspicion is never gendered. (except evidently get ready for the sexuality that is “would fuck prince,” rights.) it’s like well great i guess that she’ll have A Real Conversation with wags that the audience is shown, and all the exchanges she has with winston that seem normal enough are mostly or entirely offscreen, wherein even then it seems to be less of an actual reciprocal exchange vs like. For The Moment rian wants something else from winston than to be her punching bag / entertainment, so instead will converse with him about something without dunking him into hell, until naturally her material with taylor regains prominence and whatever half of a thread she was having with winston is shrugged off. but it’s like, yeah it’s like depressing the longer this goes on lmfao that winston clearly wants Some positive connection with rian, potentially not just including that he did have a crush for a while there though that seems entirely in the past by now, while rian Still doesn’t seem interested in seeing him as a person rather than a source of entertainment in that she apparently enjoys making him feel bad but also just like, if she wants to talk about / get backup about xyz in the first place yeah she May talk about it with winston, but once she’s gotten whatever she wanted there, that interaction doesn’t count for anything beyond that. but again it’s like, rian’s dynamic w/anyone else is not so elevated as it is with winston, even in terms of treating him shittily, which again is like. well that’s fine lmao it’s Something about rian to be sure, this apparent Tendency she has despite talking about not hating, she presumably doesn’t have the like, simmering loathing for winston style of hating but she doesn’t treat him like a person.....like this is perfectly Relevant for billions for a character to be like that, and even potentially for it to never be explored b/c everyone’s like “yes, this is either Correct and/or Normal for someone to treat winston badly, b/c he brings it upon himself” like yeah very billions, even for winston to just never give up on interacting with rian / accept this treatment too as at least normal. idk if the [rian gives winston shit at any time] thread continues it’s like sigh well what else is new. it at least gives the both of them more varied material and generally has Something fun about it, like i suppose they can keep it. but it would also be Something if again it was reflected on in any way, including if you know, there was any consequence that mattered to the person as a way of addressing the matter, as often happens around here, like it Would make sense if at this point winston wants to avoid interactions with rian / is neutral at best towards her if not in the realm of dislike, since you know, she doesn’t care about how he feels save in the contexts of “sometimes i want him to support / help / agree with me on something” or “sometimes i want to make him feel bad b/c that amuses me,” that’s cause for dislike, and we’ve never seen or heard of her genuinely offering him anything more positive in this relationship/dynamic, so. but re: this post it’s also like, this is like the one other person besides taylor that rian even Has some dynamic with, unless you count wags going dad mode the once, when they arbitrarily have a thread for one episode so she can learn to more confidently do research and present it to taylor. which makes it all the more like, well it’s too bad that this rare Dynamic is so unilateral and static then since it’s winston vs the brick wall of rian i guess going “wow i hate his autistic swag and how he’s not mcu cast hot so i’d never think of anything re: him like even casual hookups, or basic respect as a person” and like, another classic inadvertent [billions canon does shit we discuss / What If about, just v slightly to the left] territory when it’s like hey, winston’s sure Juxtaposed with like, ways you’re “supposed” to act to be taken seriously as a cool winner and pedal to the metal Career Ambition shit, huh? seems like this person who’s immediately interested in / relating to rian at her idiosyncratically weirdest & inherently least adapted to this place might be someone to talk to / get input from in contrast with taylor mentoring her. and then apparently her main interest is like, this immediate emotional bloodlust lol to keep him around as a desk toy to kick around, but then suddenly here’s winston and tuk being more of genuinely friends than he’s gotten from any other coworkers it seems, and winston’s approach is just immediate Support and, truly, offering that support just inherently for tuk as he is as a person, Not telling him how to act righter / be more of a cool winner / ramp up the business ambition or anything. and we can only guess if this will result in anything in particular or if it’s just a side joke that won’t really be relevant to anything that happens, since that seems to be the realm to which winston’s consigned, getting the butt of a joke or being a plot device in someone else’s plot arc, and other than that basically being a background extra for all intents & purposes. which as always stated is like well that restricts his character but also other characters who interact with him and Could have a genuine dynamic w/him that affects their own characters, except for that they can’t b/c everyone has to see him as an unserious joke, who knows if the writing overall is only ever interested in that too vs like. yknow like jeez even give him one c plot arc in one episode in one season ever and it’s Not even about him being bullied or something, but i don’t know. but rian’s interest in immediately deciding someone who's so unhot and annoying can be indefinitely pwned by her may never like, be anything that affects her character otherwise, i.e. nobody will ever challenge her on it / she’ll never end up changing her perspective on it (or even just him, either, given that “his physical characteristics” and “his being an autistic character / his entire personality” can’t change too much, unless the latter gets some subplot like hooray winston’s absorbing and perfectly adhering to the organic / diy aba others are inflicting on him, which, No Thanks) then it’s like, this isn’t a very dynamic dynamic, but. it is Something and there’s not much else going on. re: winston my high hopes here are getting to point at the screen like hey, there’s winston. and i guess the devil we know in rian giving him shit is like sigh. well it’s just another possible form of material for them both, huh.

anyways really the tl;dr here is just an even wearier sigh about the odds that the plans for rian as a character even upon introduction were primarily “we need A Young Woman with enough focus to Be focused on for a few eps, for a subplot that really just serves [establishing more shit about prince]” and then “and hey she can be like a mentee for taylor, who will otherwise have no employees by the end of the season, since winston doesn’t count.” and even if it was the other way around, i.e. a mentee for taylor was the primary idea and Then like, and hey, here’s why it’d be great if the character is some early twenties woman (=, again the fact that everything prior about rian is superseded by this accursed sex scandal subplot / element and also all other info about her makes little to no sense trying to reconcile it with her as a character rather than becoming a plot device in ways overly convenient / contradictory to her being a specific character. like, ffs give her something else to do. is [being taylor’s mentee] still a thing? feels like one should more confidently be able to say either way, but i sure don’t know what personal or professional somethingship is between them either way at this point or how it motivates them. i can’t feel that invested b/c the character’s confusing / unclear and now all the less enjoyable for being saddled with this curse being The Most Relevant Thing and where it’s like, give her something else to do so that a) there’s Something Else and b) so that you didn’t just introduce one of few women characters to be “a major player” where that primarily applies to This. please ugh lol even if i’m not particularly interested one way or another b/c the handling of the character so far just killed plenty of interest, just like, on principle. what the hell else do you have set up for her anyways, that’s already part of the problem, why is it that going into this next season there’s so little idea what rian has going on, like what she thinks of taylor and her relationship with them, a hug does not just clarify everything that’s happened nor tell us what terms they’ll be on going forward here, or why she hasn’t been like eh yeah i’ll get the rest of my camping trip money elsewhere at this point. like the moral is a) can this character who is still all of one of three women at prince cap have more going on than “this is the one who had sex w/prince for some reason and that getting out would be unpleasant for her. makes you think” where even if i feel neutral and uninterested in any & all further material for her it’s still inherently positive on principle and don’t really have high hopes for fun at this juncture like how b) it’s like season four all over again re: winston material like well he’ll show up and it’ll be like pointing hey there’s winston and c) the point of billions is fun taylor material and for s7 specifically boy what’s going on with them and philip, a dynamic already more vivacious and comprehensible in a few eps than the dynamic they’ve had with rian for like a season and a half, f

#winston billions #tl;dr Weary Sigh

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