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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

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I can’t tell how much I like walking and running

It is good for mental health but then you realize that your physical health is a lot worse. I jog occasionally but with free time I do it quickly. It’s good for the decision making process in my opinion.

I can’t explain how—the biochemistry of it, but it leads me to better deciding at things. This morning, I ran and thought about what to do for Christmas. It is so easy. No over thinking. No balancing of cons and pros. Just whatever feels better during jogging— you go for that.

I took a jog this morning to shake off another nightmare I had. It was worst. I am not sure what triggers it but there’s no way of knowing it. I don’t quite remember the details but as usual— it felt real. It awakened all my densities—the smell lingered. So I woke from a really bad dream, my eyes already soaked wet and salty. I just remember staring up the ceiling. My heart has a different pulse. It’s like double— I can’t explain but it was beating differently. I just stare then the reality starts to set in the. I forgot about it. Still the lingering it gave me is very alive.

I am starting to forget my parents actually. I a now used to the absence but not the silence. Holidays are nearing and it’s among the season that I am avoiding now. It’s like I pushed them out of my mind. I’d like to believe that they are feeling salty about it so they took a different form and haunted me on my dreams.

It made me think again about death. When you die, you die. Everyone moves on.

I thought of every person who died who was close to me. Most of them lived long or half but my friend Constant— if you remember. This was painful to think because he barely lived. His life was for others and he barely used his life. He was an altar boy, too.

And looking back now, I can’t help wonder what would have happened if he didn’t die. If he did not cut class to go swimming in the river. Everyone seemed to move on. Nobody talked about him. If I died, I imagine myself being on the one way mirror on the other side. I would be sad if they already moved on without me. Maybe I will be happy if they are miserable after my death. We don’t know what ghosts actually do. When a person dies, people will care about that person out of respect. When he is buried, he’ll just decompose and serve his or her purpose for the ecosystem.

For the deceased, that must be a terrible thing to experience— to be forgotten. But for the grieving, it manifests in any ways. It is easy to move on, to forgot but there’s always a reminder of it. Not dates or something grand. Small details sometimes in unusual places and inappropriate.

If you want to ask how I am currently doing; I am in this state of confusion, with crippling anxiety. Even if I am not ready, I took responsibilities beyond the belief that I can.

I am jealous with recovering addicts because they have 12-step program to turn their lives around. But how about for the likes of me who felt the whole world crashing, who have lost not only people but their whole person. Recovering addicts can move to their new normal but there’s no certainty for grieving people.

There’s no step one. Step 2, step 3.

We are told, “Life goes on…” “God has a plan” and all those Face Book Tita posts that are bullshit.

Trust me, I’ve read every pointless internet article. Read books but it doesn’t mean anything.

For addicts, when they encounter their trigger, they relapse.

For grieving people, trigger or not, it just appears.

When the wind blows, it blows.

Sometimes, when it’s all silent again. The hollowing sadness reappears and I don’t do anything about it. Do you know how that feel? Your chest suddenly becomes heavy like there is air, a heavy air stuck inside. Your limbs softens, becomes weak, your head tightens then your vision blurs a bit. You have this urge to cry you can feel it behind your eyes.

If it’s there, you just let it be.

I don’t do anything anymore.

Just stare at it. Acknowledge it’s presence. Then wait for it to go away.

I did decide to take care of Ran now that Sally is reunited with her beau. Then my cousin, my parents’ most trusted farm manager something like that, told me that he’ll oversee all farms so I don’t need to get involved but I should help in managing taxes and permits. I have an apartment building to manage, too. Reading bills and renewing leases. Though that was my responsibility before but not good at talking to the tenants. For him, it’s for me to learn. So if he dies, I know what to do. Gosh, give me a break if you people suddenly dying or fleeing and dumping your sheesh on me.

With my academics, and my want to mend some relationships, I am lost.

I don’t know what to do first or I don’t even know what I am doing. I am open for your advices because right now, nobody is willing to help me sort it out.

And I can’t just go into something that might fail because I know I will.

I make a lot of mistakes. A lot but it didn’t matter because it only affects me. Or I always have a fallback. But this time, real people are affected. What if I messed up? What if I do it wrong? What if it will lead me to serious problems? I am scared because I know I don’t have a fallback. And I know I’ll get blamed for it. I went back to the house and faced it. Maybe I should have just abandoned everything and it will be all fine. Just forget and forge a new life for me so I don’t regret or even think to come back. But, at some point, it is not likely of me to just abandon things because I can’t do it but I really can’t. I need help and guidance to fully transition into adult but it’s unfair because most of those who turned into adulthood did not have these kind of problems. But if I want to make it right, I should learn, right? But I don’t know how to start it.

I’ve never taken serious responsibilities. Responsibilities that affects real people. Currently, our three farms have 10 farmers including 2 helpers. I don’t know who they are actually, I never met them, I only met like 2 or three but never even cared to. But seemingly, they had a good relationship with my parents. They established rapport with my sister, too, whereas to me, I seemed snobbish. That’s because I don’t like being asked if some —- questions. Anyway, I don’t like talking to them. But that’s beside the point, they are my parents’ employees and they seemed loyal. It’s the first time I heard what they have done. I know how kind my parents are but I never believed how my mom tried to change the behaviors of these people like those classic conditioners; Pablo and Skinner.

Okay, in Isabela, in our barrio, they are really impoverished. Real rural poverty. Because farming season is only 2-3 times, most of the farmers are only paid during harvest season. The tilling and checking of the crops are not included. So however the harvest profits turn out, they’ll share with that. Most landlords and farm owners are like this. This is the sad reality about farmers, thus it creates socioeconomic problems and behavioral, too. The families have to starve themselves for months in between waiting for that big payout. So here comes that deprivation again and over gratification, once they had their big pay-out, half of it goes to gambling so they can have more or some use it for drinking. Or that they are dependent on coops. So in turn, nothing goes to them at all. My dad, who was a police consultant in the 1990s and 2000s saw this sociological problems as factors for some horrid crimes we both witnessed (I used to tag along in his police jeep during his investigations).

What my parents did was a corporate style of pay-out. Every 15 days regardless if they filled the land for the day or not but as long as they are attending to it’s needs. Every harvest season, they left out 20 sacks 5 of it will go to us and the rest will be free for the families. They cut the expenses by buying a miller instead of having it milled. Actually there are more so both parties won’t feel cheated or for example it’s unfair for the land owner or too much for them. There was an equal breakdown and I can’t explain because I’m dumb at economics and month. It worked out.

That’s not all!

So we have this 300 m2 front yard and a few square meters at the back. My mom loves to grow anything something that I never got. Vegetables and papaya trees. So on days that they are here in Baguio, someone will still take care of the vegetables and fruit gardens. She taught the wives and girls (teenagers who are out of school for various reasons) horticulture and hydroponics. So this turned out to be a community garden but only for those who help tends it. You can ask a piece of eggplant once but if the next one, you have to seed and sow later. It’s my mom’s personal project even if it was her who buys the fertilizer. She didn’t mind. She also encouraged the girls to go to school. I remember that she bought uniforms

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

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I’ve received so much money that I don’t know what to do with it. Lol. It isn’t much but it was the largest I have seen or had. In 1990s standard way of living, it is big. I guess it is true what they say about deprivation, a small privelege feels big. I remember this story about Joseph Stalin plucking every feather out of a chicken in front of his comrades. The chicken was just skin, naked, and oozing with blood. Stalin dropped a few grains of corn and the chicken was so delighted it was following Stalin everywhere. Then Stalin said, “This is how you control a country. Break their spirit to their very core and they will worship you for little kindness.”

Sorry but I don’t have a story to relate to that about deprivation but it is close. People are empowered of what little do they have when they lived a portion smaller than that.

Like I guess when lotto winners tend to think they have infinite wealth or when politicians or any people power think they are invincible.

There are people who are sometimes popping up. Okay, one time, when I was receiving a cheque for the sale of a lot. I was recommended to a lawyer whom my parents knew but not close for the finality of the sale. In kindness of the buyer, she added a few thousands upon learning that I am still in school. The price really small compared to the market price because we just wanted to get rid of it. So then, there’s this lawyer who saw it and teased me to give a bonus but I said no. He was disappointed I think and said that for my age, this amount is a lot. But for me, no. That was another episode of me in this reality show “Dropping the protection from society curtain.”

There are really people who views money like a gold pot. So even if it is so little, it is large to them and the first thing they do is spend on things that they were deprived of.

I am not the opposite. The second I get ahold of any money, it’s gone. The largest one I had was maybe P10k. It was my commission for the rental properties. It did not even take a week. So the first time, I had a cheque in my name with dizzying zeroes, I was so overwhelmed. I was not prepared for this. I was already listing in my head what to do with it.

What made me stop was people coming in to my house relatives or anyone, asking to borrow. You know these people did not even like me because of their biases against me. That’s when I woke up that money really changes things not only perspective but people’s perspective about you. I am a person deprived of praises, affection and all positive interactions with other people. So when suddenly the table flipped, you know immediately it’s bullshit. I disgusted because It’s not even a million and they are twisting their hands for something so small. Actually, when I refused, someone really said that I got a lot and I dont know how but I got the courage to say, “That’s for me not for you. Even if it is big, there’s nothing for you.”

My image of humanity and society itself is getting darker and darker. I never cared about it before because I did not see it.

It’s a big fight for me. It is too much for me to handle.

My sister is not helping either. For that, I have never felt alone in this world. Being alone was not a thing for me. It was never lonely. If there are people with me or not, it never mattered and I am happy that way.

But I feel very lonely that I feel everyone is ganging up on me. There was never a time that there’s nobody at home, but that’s what’s making me lonelier. The feeling that I am seen as an object rather than a human. That since my parents drop dead they thought they have the opportunity to trample me over and over.

I have felt for the first time in my life that no one in this earth actually cares for me. That I realized that they just see me to be exploited. With that thought in mind, there was a distant memory that struggles to resurface.

When I was in Grade 6, I was a sakristan— mostly for boys, but my school is a social democrat so I went in. I was bullied being the only girl. I never knew that was discrimination actually even some of the teachers or elder ones was annoyed that I was there. I never knew about misogyny. I thought it was my character or personality. For me, serving God has no gender and my mother told me that God is happy that I chose to serve him even if it was just me. I was alone. Everyone ganging up on me, stealing my clothes in the changing room (there was no girls’ changing room in the Cathedral). I am being bullied in the house of God but I never told that to anyone else. I just said that the boys are sometimes mean. “Sometimes” so I downplayed it so my teacher and my parents won’t worry. The one thing that kept me going? Whenever there’s a mass, my father attends mass. My father is an atheist, he doesn’t believe in Religion (ethnocentric ideals). I always see my parents in the middle of the pews. They don’t know what’s happening or how much I am suffering in service to God, or how alone I am. I was not unhappy or lonely. Not once did I feel that because when we are seated on the left from the priest’s table I take a glimpse of them and they wave back.

I tried to reenact that moment last night. There was no mass nor the chairs for altar boys but I stood at the side. There were people praying but I wanted to see. I wanted to know the feeling. I glanced on my right to find them. Literally and hypothetically empty. Then a caretaker is asking me to get down from the stage.

Nobody is waving now. That’s how I feel now that I am being ganged up against. Maybe you think it is not a big deal. Surely, this happens everyday, but, I can’t handle it. There’s just too much of it. I can handle if it was gradually, but all at once, I’ll break anytime.

I don’t have that level of maturity to handle hese things now. What is ironic you know is that I am not known for being responsible or smart but they expect me to instantly become one.

And I really believed that that’s why I dreamt of having a boring but peaceful life free from excessive responsibilities. I have no other responsibility but myself alone.

When there’s no one helping you and they put you down at the same time, it’s really crushing.

I just hope that at the very least despite everything— someone will guide me how to and maybe I can. If only I have a role model or mentor who will not exploit me or say misogynistic stuffs, no matter how challenging it is, I will do really fine. Or option C, just people should leave me alone. I think the air will clear and the place will declutter.

I have this villain moment wherein every wrong doing that was done to my was relived. Every thing an adult person has told me or done to me, I start to remember how unrightful that was or how I don’t deserve that.

I never knew how sensitive I am as a person. But I think it is how I opened up now not to take anyone’s bullshit.

I started to build a gate around me that people cannot get through. I started to talk back passive-aggressively. I had a month crash course from the internet. And holy patootie, that’s all it takes so people will get out of your business? Stop. Being. Nice??? Not caring about what other feels?!

I’ve rented a place last May. A girls’ dorm. It’s noisy. A scratch, a tap, a yawn, clanking of spoons and even chewing I can hear it. My roommate is a classmate. It was a good change. I wasn’t used to the noise but surprisingly it is so quiet. I felt... at peace. I did not tell them where I am. I just took half of my clothes and went on.

Circling back on deprivation, I was not deprived of money or affection or praises from other peole. Turns out that was not it. I deprived myself of things that could make me happy. I deprived myself for just taking punches instead of punching back. And, God, I am so generous at giving punches. Sometimes, I felt bad but I just gaslight myself saying they deserve it anyway. Ive done that to any stupid reply about my situation. I lost people bothering me and it felt so good. I created my daily affirmation and every morning I whisper to myself, “take up space, take up space, take up space,”.

From time to time, I just go home to take some stuff and faces my sister’s wrath but now I just wave my ass on her to signal that “I don’t care mamatay kang galit”.

Until now she still have my bank account the one I got from Mommy. That was her way of trying to control me to bend to her will but I told her, “you can kept it.” She can’t do anything with it without me anyway so good luuuuuuck. I have a small amount in my ATM Card and from my father’s so I took up a tutoring job instead. With what I earn from freelancing, I can pay my tuition fee. I still have Datu Puti with me and he’s not really burden anymore because our boarding mates are taking turns in takingg care and feeding him. But I realised, even with less, I feel good. So this was the secret after all—- putting yourself first. This was the same thing that I felt when I was living in a commune. Stranger Support instead of Stranger Danger.

With my roommate, we’ve been exploring places together with a very minimal budget. Like going to the beach with just 500 peso combined pocket money. Sleeping at a park and totally out of the comfort zone and off course not going to experience that again na-ah. It was not only fun but there is something freeing. Sometimes, I just eat twice a day to scrimp on money and I don’t feel bad. I think it was just recently when I had to pay my tuition and the cheque from PSei did not arrive on time, so my roommate and I schemed a plan to download Her or Tindr (dating apps) just to meet people but in group so they would feed us. That was 16 days in a row. That wasn’t always the case, out of courage picked up from nowhere, my roommate suggested begging. We begged vegetables from the market those ones thay are to be thrown away—still edible but not fresh. We reasoned out that we just paid our tuition fees and we don’t have food. And our apartment, too. I let my roommate flash my orphaned card to gain sympathy. They even threw free coffee and watermelon slices. It felt so illegal but we did not lie, cheat or steal. We ... exaggerated things a bit but nobody was harmed.

I then forgot my sadness, or loneliness. I was now able to tell where it is coming from. Now that the path was cleared, I am moving ahead and was enlightened. It was a bit dim and blinking along the way, but I see it now.

I learned that I can be responsible in many things especially on how I handle my feelings. The heaviness of the grief came with so many things, now that grief is just the pure, natural grief— I just look at it from eye to eye. I welcome it, I allow it to take over but for sure it will never end or even be lessened. It’s just your unlikeable auntie every christmas. You don’t try to keep it at bay. Just acknowledge it’s presence. Look at it in the eye. Do nothing.

Though it is not a happy ending for me. I still have lingering grief and a decision that I have to intervene. Just as soon as I said that I will put myself first, I have a nagging feeling that that’s not really the right time.

I decided to take Ran under my care. I don’t know how to but I’ll make sure that he is safe, full, and fine by my care. I hate his mother and Ran is as annoying as both of her parents, but I don’t have the heart to let him grow in an environment that he does not feel secure in.

So now my Living-Solo-Corporate-Loner-Baddie trope has to be shelved. I can do that in my 30’s that is if I haven’t earned a lot of pains by that time.

I am not happy with my decision and this is totally stripping myself from my own freedom. It’s like I placed the handcuffs on my own.

Just when I felt the high of being away from people, when I just started to build something on my own rather then being passed down, just when I experienced a glimpse of my DREAM LIFE SCRAPBOOK, I gave it away.

This is going to be tough and awful. This is probably the most selfless act I could do, setting myself aside for others, again. But I went in blindly for something I taught that could be worst. I have simulated in my brain that Ran will grow up badly living in other people’s home that are not so close. He’ll be influenced to be like his father. And if many years soon I will see him again and he turns out the way I imagined I’ll blame myse… Ohhh… yeah, right, it is still about me. Because later I don’t want to feel bad about it so In the end, it’s still me. It’s just a long game.

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

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There is something wrong on how I respond to grief and it bothers me

I came across the 5 stages of grief lately. Something I never learned from any psych class, why are you guys not teaching this? Or maybe I was not listening when it was taught or mentioned.

Anyhow, I learned about it.

DABDA (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance)

So I traced how my mind received the worst news that I dread and feared so much to come.

I turned off my phone for a while and when I opened it after having a good dinner, my parents' helper messaged me that my father is already dead. In fact, I still have that message even if I changed my phone.

"Naconfine po Daddy nyo hospital kamamatay nya lang po. Si Manong Cesar nyo po ito. Sorry po condolences."

"Sabi po ng mama niyo pauwi na po sila may ambulansya."

I remember freezing. I just looked at it. There were no tears forming. I think I did try to buy time for that reaction and ran out of the house to buy mobile credit.

I tried to call mama's number but she was not answering. I called and called and called. Then she answered.

Mama is just crying.

"Awanen ni Daddy. (Wala na si daddy)"

Then she hang up. The next thing I remember was shouting and breaking the plates. It was early as 8 so there are people who can hear me. A lot of them. I remember among other things banging my head against the door because if this is a dream, it's not funny at all. I only got dizzy. My nose bled. I made sure Ran was already asleep before I did those stuff because how can I explain to him that your Lolo is dead?

You know I cannot even cry I just forced myself to cry. But I can't because I was in so much shock and disbelief. I don't know if that is denial but I think I acknowledged it. I don't know how denial is supposed to be.

I called up my sister and told her. She immediately cry. Why can she do that. I was at the veranda. Crying and people passing by are asking me but I paid them no mind. Like why would I tell you, are you gonna bring my father back?

Remembering clearly these painful memories, I cannot place where anger is. I was not angry. I was just shocked and very sad. And the bargaining? I dont' know where I should file that under.

The thing is we already immediately accepted it because he was old anyhow and it was inevitable. Though with the acceptance, I think that's where the depression came to set in? Or did I assume it. I guess acceptance was just accepting it. But it was so different after.

When my mom died, there was no denial, anger, bargaining and acceptance.

We already spent it when she was dying. not when she died.

When she was hospitalized a month after Dad died, there was the denial. We did not want her dying. I DID NOT WANT TO. Then when we told her that we will do everything to get her treated, she refused.

She was shouting that she wanted to die. So there sets the anger. Because I can't believe how selfish that was. But maybe we were selfish.

The bargaining part was I said I will stop schooling. Maybe. Then over the course of the months, when I dropped out and did not come back to school, to focus on her remaining time, that was when we accepted. But after that, when she died, there was a lingering sadness.

So, whoever made this 5 stages of grief, where is the part of resolution? Where is the part where we totally got over grief?

Also, he never emphasized ACCEPTANCE. I realized I never grieved properly.

We were not given the time. And you know in the hospital, I was so pissed at home they lost their humanity. Because we were crying over our dead mother but the health care professionals were angry, telling us to move so she can be transferred to the morgue. My ever obedient sister who does not think sometimes, just said yes, but I was just there hugging my mom. So they wheeled the gurney out, and me still latched on it. I wasn't listening and they just thought I was crazy. Yep. That was literally what they said. Out of earshot though but I heard. "Nasiraan na ata."

Maybe if I kill your mom and dad, you would have a straight face.

Nobody understands grief. Broken people recognize broken people. Misery loves company. Sad people attract sad people. But people who are grieving, I don't know if they have a way of communicating. In a few hours, my uncle and cousin came over. My head is still in space. I can't function well or even speak well. I am just there staring while they are putting make up on mama. My uncle is so angry because I cannot get it together. Is it wrong? Is it wrong that I cannot get it together right after I witnessed my mom dying. Right after I saw my mom rolling back her eyes and her lips turning blue. Right after she breathed very deeply and her skin is starting to feel leathery and cold.

In each of my parents' death, nobody among them tapped me on the shoulder. Except for this doctor when I brought in mama when she learned that my dad died and she told me my mom wouldn't stay longer. I was just silent while she is offering me tissue. The last day of the funeral, my childhood friends went up to my room while they see me hugging my mom's other portrait. My friend, Delilah, her father's case was the same and she was talking about it. I acted interested and suddenly she is the one crying. I wanted to cry to and tell them about what I am feeling. I mean this is my pity party. I know they mean well. We have not gathered around like this for years. But they are here. We were circling around my bed.

Even after the funeral, I was barely functioning as a human being. The day after mom died, we began processes immediately-- transfers, reading of wills, rethinking about who will manage the two farms, -- the 4 rituals to be followed, the 40 days. My mom was buried on October 27 in the morning. At night, I was already in a van going to Manila at Camp Aguinaldo. It was non-stop and I am surrounded by people everytime. Whenever they ask me, I learned how to control my feelings. Even if they show sympathy, I just nod. There was never a time that I can wallow in my own sorrow. There was no time for me to deal with grief. You see, it makes me uncomfortable when people suddenly pity you if they learn about it. After my breakdown in class, there was a classmate who offered me support or whatever or company and shit like that. I rolled my eyes because this person was a bit hostile to me last trimester. Sometimes, people pitying you is a good thing even if it means making them feel bad so they can do something for you. But it’s very uncomfortable that people are only nice when they know the story. Just like you one time when you shamed me in front of the whole class when I said that I am drunk the other night. I didn’t speak nor was I embarrassed because I’m used to these kinds of humiliations. You just assumed because people my age are drunkards. But you don’t know that alcohol makes me sad it makes me a sad crying drunk so I don’t like it. You didn’t know that I drunk so hard with my classmates because I cannot take it anymore. Because I have no one else to run to and I thought that alcohol will make it go away. If I told you that on spot in front of everybody, would you have stopped?

But don’t feel bad about it. It’s just my exemplification of why it makes me sick that people pities other people or show kindness first after hearing their story. I am like that, too, nowadays. I somehow don’t care anymore if I am berating someone who is dying of cancer or he or she has a battle. It’s not a vengeance of some sort because I experienced this therefore you should, too. Rather, it’s not my responsibility to make people not feel bad. I think I do that because people are gonna be mean anyway and for me it will be just equal. Or fair or justifiable.

When we were receiving money from left to right, when I got my bank account, I filled these voids with material things. If I can't explore how to resolve my grief, just turn to retail therapy, right?

My cousin Therese said alcohol can solve it but I know myself. I am more sad and depressed when drunk. I don't like the feeling at all. So that's what I did. Spending money on things. Booking the cheapest flights to an island. My sister number 5th called me up and she was really angry. She interpreted what I am doing as celebrating.

"Wala pang 40 days yung mama mo, nagsecelebrate ka na?"

What am I celebrating for? I am trying to get rid of my sadness because you people won't leave me alone with these bunch of responsibilities that you suddenly poured on me. You never taught me these stuffs because you thought I am too dumb and young for it anyway but you expect me to be so adult and smart about it.

I was just quiet. That's when my plan went. I am going to runaway and cut them off. They don't understand me. They don't understand how sad and confused I am in this new phase I am in. Even if temporary, spending and buying things relieve it. It's better than doing drugs or alcohol, I guess. They think I am celebrating? I AM SLOWLY DYING.

Tessa and I returned home then they were planning to confiscate my passbook, and ATM cards because of how I am behaving.

I am just spacing out when they are talking to me. They already assumed it's drugs or alcohol. This is what I am saying when I say I don't like and trust adults. Because they never let children be children, they bank their expectations on children. They think kids should function as normal, not sad, not angry, always happy, always smiling.

It was terrible that they are wanting to control me in a way that even my own parents never did.

Thank goodness I am not a minor. My other sister (7th) got up and said, that is illegal. Actually, I just turned 20 at that time and technically they can apply for guardianship if they prove that I am unable to handle my finances or take care of myself. Like Britney's conservatorship. They can do that. But because I am a Britney Spears fan, I know that law. Or Lisbeth Sander. We have that in the Philippines, too. Similarly.

My siblings are all weird and have unique annoying flaws but they are not evil--like teleserye evil. Or Jaime Spears evil. Two of my brothers are, surely, they will but they will be against 9=8 of my sisters. They will not pay for someone to make it look like I am mentally unstable. I am not afraid, but I am so pissed at them. Because they think they are helping but they are not. They don't see me. They don't acknowledge my sadness. They don't acknowledge that I am dying inside.

I just told them what they want to hear. Sorry. Then went to my room. I shouted on my pillow. I can't take it anymore.

So months went on. I still spend on stuffs, island trips but they are fading away. Even my bank account actually when I saw it dwindle in half. I was spending quickly than receiving. When the final tri came up, I avoided my former classmates due to shame. Also, I did not want their pity. I can smell fake pity a mile away. I've been through that already.

Can't you believe it me being an underachiever and not really giving a care over my acads suddenly is so focused on my Biochemistry? I was taking it seriously.

In January, Max, my other niece, gave me one of her puppies.

I said I didn't want it. I don't want to take care of anything else. I can barely take care of myself.

I did not mean it but I just said his name should be Datu Puti as a joke but months went on and I spend so much money on that dog than on myself. I bring him around during my walks. I even bought shoes. Trinkets, and snacks. I spent time researching how to train puppies. So I try but I think I failed in that department. He still poops on my bedside, so I even hired someone to train him because I can't I am busy with school. It was expensive I had to live off on spinach banchan again and kimchi.

But you know, I did not notice, but Datu Puti lightens my heart each morning he'll jump on my stomach to wake me up. I finally allowed him to sleep on my futon. I got him neutered so nobody will borrow him for "lahi-zation". I felt like I finally had purpose. I felt like alive again. Like I don't care about anything. It was refreshing. With me occupied with my studies, new friends, and a dog. I felt like everything is falling in place. That, too, did not last long. It was May and all my batchmates are graduating. If the plan went on, I could have, too. And that was the other one that is not making me feel better. The insecurity and embarrassment. So off course, I do what every millennials do: brag on social media. Lowkey, off course. Every post screams; “Oh you’re having an important milestone in your life without moiiii? Well I’m living my best life!”

That, too, did not last long. Eww, I am a disgusting person.

After the semester, I went home to Isabela and cleaned the house. It was messy. Nobody went there for a year. I thought I can finally grieve in peace but goddammit, people won't leave me ALONE.

I hear knocks giving me food or stories about my parents.

They ask what I needed and I had the urge to say, "LEAVE. ME.THE.FUDGE. ALONE."

I can't. So during that weekend, I went to the church when I told God that I am no longer his follower. That I lost my faith in Christianity.

It was empty on a Saturday, almost. The Church of Atocha has been standing for 200 years. The structure was hispanic off course, massive, with angel gardens. I sat on the grass and leaned on the wall with the angels towering over me. Nobody was approaching me. I did not cry but I felt heavier and heavier. Against the sunny daylight, my vision was getting darker. I was forcing myself to cry but I forced myself to sleep instead under the sun. I took a nap for a few minutes. But there was something strange during that nap and I am not kidding you. I don't know if I am dreaming or I was lucid dreaming or I am awake, but in my dream, I can only see the white light of the sun. It was hot on my eyes but a cold palm touched my cheeks. Not the "it's dead" cold like when I touched my mom's head and I got the chills of how creepily cold it was. The coldness was fresh. It was like drinking a very ice cold under a hot summer. Then applying white flower oil on your temples. It was that kind of cold. In contrast with the heaviness I felt, I now felt lighter. My vision was clear but still 250-200. I went home after that but I stopped at Ilagan. I checked in a hotel with pool not those islands one with only cardboard dividing the rooms.

I booked one with a bath tub that was the second expensive room. I took a bath and cried in the bathtub. As loud as I can. Hagulgol kung hagulgol. Wihtout nothing on my mind. Just cry even if I know it will not resolve to anything.

I went home straight. Just waiting for the semester to finish. Then I went hiking with my uncle to see the abandoned property in Sagada. It was a jungle. It was a piece of mountain. We own a mountain. That's crazy but we cannot transfer it-- complicated. My uncle cannot go on anymore so he want back. I said I will scale the whole property.

I sat on top of it seeing the whole Sagada. The next thing I did was remove my clothing and only my undies and did breathing exercises. Then I cried again. That is my last attempt of trying to resolve my grief. I gave up. Whatever I do, it is just the same. Only 15 minutes of relief then it's back. It's on air.

The whole summer, I just painted the house for a few days, barnished the furnitures and doors. Did some repairs. Tried to be adult but some people still see me as a child so they think I cannot adult and at the same time mocking be because I can't adult. After that, I lock myself for days in my room watching Game of Thrones and simping on Lena Headey. Watching all her movies and shows. I felt empty again. I went back to square one. Datu Puti is still there though, but I am forgetting my responsibilities for him. So I hired a dog nanny again. Just weeks before enrolment, I am just in my room with laptop, cellphone, and iPad on a rotation. I did not even touch any of the books I bought that I swore to read during summer. Just nothing and my room is starting to smell. I got sick. I got a cold and I did not do anything. Just water and whatever food is served.

I’ve been thinking to go to therapy and not self-medicate but I have already grown disdain of adults and especially health professionals. In my mind every adult will not understand and will just tell me to toughen up. So I have my biases already. I have fears already of speaking up about how I am feeling and doing. Also they are expensive and I don’t want to pay people who will gaslight me and I am afraid of confrontations, too. So no. And I can’t believe as a Psych student I am saying that but it’s true.

It seems like everyone assumes that after my parents’ death I should be happy giddy after but not too happy because they’ll you murdered them by giving them diabetes and stroke. What are you sad for? You should be strong! Toughen up don’t be weak. It’s God’s plan.

Sheeeesh. Irritating.

Nobody ever comforted me they showed their pity but that is different.

Nobody knows how to comfort the grieving and the bereaved don’t know how to resolve grief.

If a problem can’t be solved, then maybe it is not a problem.

My sleeping schedule changed. I slept until noons and woke up till wee hours.

There goes the cycle again of distraction then semi-self destruction. Until now it is happening and now I move forward to thinking what is next without still resolving the grief.

I read a magazine that says, Grief is just invisible until it shows. It says, there is no end. So, whoever invented DABDA is useless. THere's no such thing as stages of Grief. Acceptance is not the final stage. There's a cliff hanger.

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

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Saiga: Agent Danielle Bergen, you say?

Bergen: Yes, Professor.

Saiga: You’re a Liberian import. I like your country. Years of colonizations and problematic problems but your country managed to be the only progressive and peaceful country in SEAun. Very welcoming of foreigners but strict in a sense.

Bergen: Many people die protecting it.

Saiga: You are quite the protector yourself. I am impressed about how you hide your personal life when you are out of your home. You conceal your wedding band mark and your neck.

Bergen: (touches the neck) Well then I need to do better then.

Saiga: You don’t want people to know about your wife to protect her. You drop a blank face so no one will read you. You are quite good at managing your emotions.

Bergen: How do you know it’s a wife? (Looks at Kou) You told him.

Kougami: No.

Saiga: That’s easy. You are obviously a lesbian. I know that you’re not supposed to assume someone’s sexuality. You are gonna say that, aren’t you? But you keep nails really short and clean.

Bergen: (Blushing) That’s impressive.

Saiga: You were in the military, yes? You spent training in the military but did not participate much in combat or in the battlefield. You’d rather be the quiet fighter. The backstage hero. So you became a spy. You’re a musician— violin,guitar. No, piano. You’ve been playing piano during your younger years and people like that knows how to manage their stresses vert well. Their hippocampus widens.

Bergen: Good points. As expected from a Joji Saiga.

Saiga: So what did you came here for?

Bergen: (looks at Kougami) Well...We want to look deeper into this suspect we are pursuing. About what could possibly his motives are.

Saiga: Don’t you have a background in Psychology yourself?

Bergen: Well, yes, but I don’t have that deep understanding like you do.

Kougami: Basically, professor,we want to separate him from terrorists to an individual ones, acting alone.

Saiga: I see.

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

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This time, I will talk about a present problem and I dream life that I want to to manifest.

My sister’s going back abroad because of a newfound love leaving her son in my care. Like that is so convenient that she gets this freedom and she thinks I am fine with it.

We had an argument about it because I can’t even take care of simple plants and pets, let alone a 9 year old child.

I was told that I was being selfish: ironically. But is being selfish a bad thing though? Is it bad that I think about my own growth? Is that wrong to put myself first; to get what I want; to live the life I want? Is it really selfish?

It’s like she is calling the kettle back. I told her that she’s chasing a man and leaving her child behind must really be a selfless act. Well I said more like she’s a terrible mother. A terrible person who always makes the worst decisions and her family pays for it. Because it’s true! When she incurred a debt, she sold our house. My parents paid for it back. My mom went to court and hired a good lawyer. My sister did not do a thing. She got married early, who spent for it? My parents. She worked abroad and who paid for it? My parents.

She had a fallback.

Something that I don’t have the luxury anymore. As I mentioned, I can live alone without my parents’ money or anything. I can live from scratch. I did it before when I dropped out from school and lived in a friends’ house like a commu place. They are nice people. They are young people who can’t go to school or are runaways from problematic families. They had trades and I learned and earned my own money. I have no problem living on my own.

But I don’t have a fallback.

My sister never earned a living by herself everything was given. Then I am always labeled as the irresponsible one by people who don’t even live with us. I don’t realize that before and I am not hurt by it. But, I have more time to rationalize these and I think it over, now there’s an anger building up.

I clearly said that I don’t want to and told her it’s time she takes some responsibility.

I made a scrapbook about how I want to spend my adult life; my 20’s.

From the magazines, I read like candy and 17een, it helped me design my dream life. From consuming literature and media, I learned that slow life is the best life. The small things you do in your everyday life is the best way. Sure, I don’t have grand dreams like wearing a suit, devil wears prada aesthetics or whatever liberal feminists are selling me.

Do you know this image of a busy girlboss who is working twice than her male colleagues but gets the same pay? The one who is transfusing on coffee?

Nah, I don’t want that. Or probably the one holding their kids to their work because there’s no babysitters around? No thanks. It’s not bad. Not saying that. But not for me.

And that is one problematic feature of how society views women.

If you can’t be a married woman with kids you could at least be a workaholic career woman to justify your lack of desire in partaking in a traditional gender role.

I don’t think about it before because my sisters prioritized their educations and lucrative careers before family (Except Sally— idk what’s wrong with her— but she bore a child so she has value in this society I guess). Even my sister who is single because she can’t physically bear a child have adopted a child. I thought it was a pattern that I should follow. Now, I think— hell no.

Would it hurt if I just become single, spend time with friends, with no actual goals and dreams, earn money from a mundane job I hate but too poor to quit ?

Anyway, that’s where we fall anyway. Let’s stop pretending. I kept listening to my classmates about big dreams they have and what they’ll do when they graduate. They have this textbook imagery of what being a grown up is like. I noticed before what happened last year that I was excited with these stories, but now, I just feel sorry for them. I wanted to say now that you have time you might want to learn about taxes, wages, and how not to allow yourself to be manipulated by grown ups. While they have a glittering image of themselves, there are dark truths out there that I wouldn’t dare say because it’s gonna burst their bubble or they will me crazy. I wanted to say that out there people will crush your spirit.

But I understand, I was the same. I had a big imagination of what my everyday life will manifest. Nobody else had the same so I feel so unique but it’s what I want.

I just remembered a classmate of mine in High School when we were having a career orientation activities or stuff. Everyone was mocking her. This classmate— Kayla— is pretty and is academically dumb and she’s like really dumb because sometimes she has no common sense. Like the ones getting roasted by comedians.

Like she asked one time, “Anong kulay nung white horse ni George Washington?”

Okay so back to that orientation. She said, that she wants to be a flight attendant because that’s where you can find a rich husband. I mean if you can’t be rich, marry rich right? So she actually wrote on her paper “Professional Trophy Wife”. Everyone was laughing at her because they probably look down at her for being a gold digger. I thought at that time— “She’s a genius.” She admitted that she’s not intelligent for other challenging things. Like me, she freezes in front of Math Problems. At least she knows herself and she knows what she’s getting even if she has a weakness. That she only have her beauty as a winning factor.

Those kind of people scares me but at the same time, I adore them.

I think she was brave. She knew she’ll get mocked at and they only look at her in a shallow view. They don’t see her beyond her pretty face.

Why is being a woman or a girl difficult? People will value either your smartness or beauty. You can’t have two. Only pick one and you are valuable. Or be competent or something. You have to prove yourself to be worthy of respect as a woman. And if you do that, you’ll be called beach-y, bossy, cunning, ambitious. If you know Taylor Swift’s The Man, it’s like that. I never realized that nows. My mom, a bad feminist, says this a lot. She talks about misogyny, gender imbalances but I never understood. She warned me explicitly about how society rewards men from mundane to more awful things and shame women.

My mother is frustrated and angry because it does not drill in my head.

Now, I get it. I am submerged in the same. I am not even out in the world yet, but nowI am getting it.

So looking at myself lacking those things. Does that mean I have no value? If I was a boy, it will probably be not the same, no?

I don’t have a scanner and I am lazy to paste the photos of my scrapbook but here is the summary;

I don’t want to have a career. I want an experience. I don’t want to be a purpose. I want to make life a purpose. I want to write fanfictions and that sells a lot nowadays.

I imagine my daily routine to be like this:

05:00– wake up to water the plants and herbs/ transfer pots

06:00– make my lunch; prepare shower

07:00 commute to a job.

08:00—05:00— job/ not serious but not routinal. It should be challenging from time to time or always. It should be something I both enjoy but hate, too. Have good work friends.

06:00 — eat dinner/ little grocery trip or going home

07:00 — take a part-time job/freelance

10:00 —making a midnight snack with wine or beer

11:00 — blogging or something then sleep

On saturdays, I will attend some language academy or learn other gardening skills.

Every saturday night; I will cook something really special that I saw on YouTube or from a recipe website while skipping long ass stories of their own histories with little to no connection with those recipes.

After dinner and washing dishes, I’ll put on a korean mask then watch anime with beer or wine and some korean noodles or pancit canton.

Sunday morning— groceries and market

Clean and laundry

Sunday afternoon— work on my language voca or paint or just watch series or anime

Sunday night— plan my outfits, and meals, chop ingredients like garlic, veggies and organize my fridge.

On holidays, or long weekends; I’ll finish reading my bucket lists of russian and asian books then working on fanfics.

It sounds like a low-income white girl aesthetics , but that works for me. If you watch 2 Broke Girls, it is exactly like this or something close to it.

Earning minimum wage and spending it only to myself; enrolling in language classes, buying shit things, having to live off kangkong and eggplants if I am broke, earning enough to become a digital nomad so I can travel like a broke white man in south east asia.

Get a language proficiency test and be a translator. Earn skills so I can suddenly surprise people that I am not any dumb fattie.

Thinking about it here’s a scenario in my head.

If the company I am working for has a Japanese client but then the translator isn’t here yet or something, so everyone is panicking and employees are looking for jobs at jobstreet, I’ll step up to save the day or something by raising my proficiency test.

“I speak Nihonggo.” Then all their jaws drop while I walk quietly and study the contents of something.

And those are the grand dreams for me. That’s why I don’t like pressures, you know. I project myself as this underdog and unambitious but secretly skilled person. Or this “I thought she was just a dumb fattie?” moments.

I am incompetent in all honestly but sometimes it is by choice. And it is sooooo convenient.

So yeah. I want to glamorize being a DUMB FATTIE. I’ll collect so much skills in my 20s and pop up to help each time. They’ll be scared and say “What else does she knowwww?”

Then I get the respect and make them regret of how they are treating me because of this idea that I can potentially damage or fix things.

If they want me to do the same again but I am not in the mood.

“But I thought you said I am dumb?” I use that as a card.

And I smile, I think I did that a lot of times. I had this English teacher who does not like me because of my pixie cut and black nail polish. So I get tagged as problematic student. There was a debate contest in the school. 2 days before that, my friend’s father died (who was a participant) so she will have to go back to their hometown. She gave me the load of it. Since no one will take her place and I was willing anyway (because she’s my friend and she entrusted me even if I don’t want it— so I am again placed in a moral dilemma that I have no say in), the same teacher agreed hesitantly. She wanted to train me but I don’t like her so I am not gonna spend an extra second with her. I said I can.

The topic was about Curfew for students.

Anyway-long story short— we got 2nd place. We lost to the senior high schools. That’s already the highest for the 3rd year HS. We had a 4 streak wins. She praised me in class and said if only she had learned about my skills earlier, she would have had recruited me. Well, if she did not spend judging me based on her preemptive biases, she would have.

I don’t blame her though but I don’t think of her as a good educator. There are many more stories like this and I smile each time. Surely, I don’t achieve much, but this behavior of mine favors me: I don’t get stressed and I have a winning streak plus I instantly get the respect for a short period of time.

That’s why I want to live simply and not assume anything grand. It’s stressful to compete anyway. I think I will be happy that way.

To live without pressures choking on your neck.

I learned that hard lesson when I was 14. You give people ways how to treat you.

I was actually good at piano. I still play but not the hard stuff like Anima Christi and more complicated pieces. When I was 10, my sister gifted me a piano. She paid for my tutor so Every Christmas gatherings I play Vivaldi’s. So I enjoy playing it and people enjoy it too. Until I got convinced to play here and there and naturally got exploited to play in a theater or compete. There are nights that even if I don’t want to practice I have to because people expect me to. Because If I don’t do it, I don’t have value.

I feigned an absence one time —on time for a dry run. But funny thing was I really got sick and I am not even faking it. I was so sick, I was admitted in a hospital because I am coughing up blood due to heavy phlegm. The church choir was so disappointed but off course how can they get disappointed if I was sick. I felt immediately the resentment. It was so different. I told my mom I wanna drop out. She agreed immediately. That is why I love my parents because they recognize my limits. They don’t measure my worth according to what I can bring on the table.

When I dropped out, my parents aren’t always around so I stay at some runaway house. There I lived with rejected people of almost same age as mine. I found comfort that I am valued for just being me.

Constantly changing lifestyle, careers, circles, mindset and wardrobe.

I don’t have a desire for a career, or family. Surely, 10 years later that’s not something everyone will be proud of to say during reunions but I see myself doing that.

What’s wrong with it? Nothing.

But now— I took a walk last night in my village, a long one. Without any headset accompanying me. I have never done this ever. To think. I don’t like to think. So I always have things to keep my mind occupied so I don’t think things. I took a step to do so.

After that argument with my sister, she called me up and said that she will have Ran be taken care of by a relative. Or relative or Ran’s father.

I don’t know why but I was not relieved by it. I did not say “buti naman.” It’s like I got choked for a while. So now, Sally is calling up someone to take care of Ran while she is gone, because clearly, I am cutting them off.

Here’s what I am thinking.

I am old enough to know that it is a bad idea. I don’t have that experience but I saw enough and heard enough horror stories about leaving your kids to someone even to your own family.

I felt bad for Ran because it is like you are unwanted. His mother chose another life with a man rather than take care of her child.

I think closely of what I have been saying how adults destroy children. How much adults make monsters out of children. There is this part of me that I am hypocrite because I know it, I’ve seen it, but I won’t do anything.

I imagine him growing up in a home that he’s not absolutely welcome because of selfish adults that brought him into this world.

So I have a moral dilemma which begs this question: AM I SELFISH FOR CHOOSING MYSELF?

I thought about it very hard. I thought about Robert Frosts poem about the two roads. About the road not taken (I think this is the title I don’t know).

I cried while walking and this is why I don’t like thinking because I end up in a worst place.

I like to pretend that I have changed now. That I have taken a more grown-up perspective but the truth is I am just a child. You can’t entrust a child to take care of another.

I am lost because I will throw away that scrapbook, literally and metaphorically. Because I have to think very hard— I have a chance not to ruin someone else’s life.

But I have a chance also for myself. To choose myself.

I had growing concerns about my nephew who probably had worst than me. I knew he had when I attended a PTA while Sally is away, that he sometimes talks about dying.

It sank to me that he had it worst than me: separate parents, unwanted child, grandparents dying; constantly the target of bullying by other children because he has no parents around.

Thinking of my parents, I get an idea on how to be a better person but someone (like Sally) did not learn that because she was raised in other homes (which are abusive).

My other thought said: WHY WOULD THAT BE MY CONCERN?

The other one said: IF YOU HAVE THE CHANCE TO HELP SOMEONE, YOU SHOULD DO IT.

So, I am in a bind.

Now, here’s a serious question.

You can answer if you can but make it make sense and helpful. What should someone do in this situation?

Does it justify that people’s lack of plan is not an urgency on my part?

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

Text

Chapter 1

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

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“It seems that you’re not worried about it.”

“I am not.”

“I am though for you.”

Bergen stared at him a bit. “Something wrong on my face.”

“Nothing, but I wanted to kiss you. If that’s okay.”

“Uhh..”

Bergen started to walk away but Kogami grabbed her shoulder back.

“Sure.”

Bergen kissed Kogami. Kogami kissed her back. The sex was long and gentle. Kogami was a fine lover. He doesn’t take despite how brash he could be, he provides the needs in every spot. Bergen’s body jolts even at the lightest touch.

His hands were roughened from years of combat and edge of death survivals. The same fingers that give triggers to guns and have possibly killed a lot, had made Bergen excited. The roughness of it rubbing against her walls made her salivate.

Bergen can’t think straight with Kogami’s cock twitching and drilling into her.

Kogami lights a stick. Bergen emerges from the bathroom all dressed up. Wouldn’t you sleep her.

She shook her head.

“That was great.” That was all she said. Kogami, blew another smoke and watched her exit his door.

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

Text

Danielle Bergen

Date of Birth: Dec.12,2094

Occupation: Tactical Analyst for Military Counterintelligence Service (Militarischer Abschermedienst ) (2122 to present)

UN Security Council (Case Researcher) (2120-2122)

Bureau of Immigration (Intelligence Division) (2116-2120)

Photo Editor /English Teacher/ Writer (2109-2016

Education:

Ph.D in International Security (2022-2025)

Freie Universitat Berlin

Masters in International Relations (2014-2016)

Waseda University

Tokyo Japan

BS Psychology

University of the Cordilleras (2011-2014)

Language spoken:

English

Tagalog

Ilocano

Japanese

Chinese

Korean

Russian

French

Trainings:

EARLY LIFE

Bergen belonged to a normal, loving family. Her parents are stockbrokers and so they retired early spoiling their children in any way they can. The family values spiritual, health, and mental health. Thus, Bergen can never remove meditation in her practice. She also belonged to an ancient Filipino ethnicity : Kankanaey. In which they have ritualistic practice. She was also a very curious girl and motivated about learning languages and violin. Her father is a retired soldier but kept his two children to learn about guns and combat especially Mix Martial Arts. Originally, Bergen wanted to be a travelling teacher and artist and when she is 30, she will study to become a professor.

Prior the plane crash, she was a typical teenager who clung the benefits of evolving technology. However, she changed drastically after that.

MALAYSIAN MH17

On July 17, 2014, allegedy Russian forces launched a missile and hit MALAYSIAN MH17 bound to Malaysia from Netherlands. It crashed with 219 passengers including cabin crew and pilots reported death. Bergen’s parents, sister and nephew boarded that plane. Nobody survived. Also, Russia won’t take blame and the investigation is moved to be closed as it will be seen as technical error. She kept protesting with other kins but realized it won’t but like this. One day, she was called by the president. The president offered help and assitance except pursuing the case. Bergen asked how she can urge to investigate. The President (Benigno Aquino III) told her to join UN Body. Bergen expressed her desire to build her life in that to a investigate what happened. The President agreed and so he gave a full scholarship for her studies in Japan and promised her a post at Bureau of Immigration Intelligence when she gets back.

BUREAU OF IMMIGRATION INTELLIGENCE

As expected, she joined the agency. Most of her tasks is to investigate immigrants or tourists who loses a threat or are criminals. During the Duterte administration, she was a whistle blower for the Pastillas Scheme that is happening within the Bureau. She resigned from her post while applying for UN Security Council as analyst and researcher.

UNSC

She is endorsed immediately to UNSC after being a whistleblower and for her protection, too. She was based immediately in New York even during the pandemic. There, she met Kogami Shinya who is now an InterPol agent investigating a Bioweapon developed in China but not related to Pandemic, hopefully.

Bergen also starts to work on the the Malaysian MH17. Australia sanctioned the culprits but Bergen believe they were only scapegoats.

In 2023, she moved to Berlin, Germany as an attache at Military Intelligence.

MAD

As the war is progressing, her intels proved worthy to impede the war. However, she is in chase of a shadow criminal organisation. The 12. And involved with an assassin, Oksana Vorontsova.

Relationships

Anita Bergen and Joseph Bergen

Bergen is very close to her family. They often prioritize their family over everything. Both Anita and Joseph were government workers so it inspired Danielle to do the same.

Oksana Vorontsova (Villanelle)

Bergen encountered Villanelle when she was visiting Allen Skipps for an interrogation. They had a bit of a fight. She also witnessed the murder of her superior; Billy Hastings. They’ve been chasing each other in a cat and mouse chase. Oksana develops feelings for her, Bergen faked it to gain more intel. She killed her in the end, crying.

Kogami Shinya

They first met when Kogami went rogue and is still hunted by the government of Japan. Kogami saw Bergen being harassed by some mercenaries at Bangladesh. Though, Bergen remained unbothered planning to take them down later, Kogami fought them off. But then she proved that she’s no ordinary damsel in distress. She introduced herself immediately taking note thay she was a student in japan years ago. Afyer gaining information, she visited him in his camp with other tribe troops. Bergen discloses her true identity and purpose. She was assigned on suicide mission to retrieve 4 Filipino missionary passing through. This had to be done without attracting too much fanfare. It turns out these Filipinos are members pf an elite spy group: The Circle of Nine.

Bergen employed his help by promising not to tip off the government about his whereabouts and his involvement with Anti-government groups. The captors were also guerillas who are harassing the tribes. After retrieving them, she went off. A year later, kogami was told that Bergen tipped off the Foreign of Affairs in exchange for information on Japanese crime groups in SEA. She was assigned as undercover to get to them. As a favor, she endorsed Kogami Shinya for pardon.

They met again at UN SC in New York after 2 years and developed a sexual relationship. They then worked and is paired together after Billy Hastings died. They care and respect each other but swore not to have romantic relationship with each other.

Billy Hastings

Hastings was Bergen’s superior and partner. Bergen looks up to him as a father figure role and a friend. He also welcomed her as part of the family. So when he was murdered by Villanelle, Bergen promised to kill Villanelle.

Albert James Moriarty

When Moriarty has heard that someone was negotiating small factions fo Eastern Europeans to fight against Russia, he was intrigued and took her before her camp was attacked. He urged her to be an MI6 asset and was named “Agent Sunkiss” a poke to her skin tone.

Moriarty allowed her to stay in his Mansion estate. Bergen slept with Moriarty once before her departure back to the Philippines. Moriarty gifted her a very expenisve Stradivarius Violin.

Rhea Colingey

Rhea is Bergen’s love interest. She is a sociology teacher who knew Bergen many years back when they were in university. They got married some years later.

Sonny Treelyanez

Bergen was welcomed in a shadow security group: Circle of 9 in where Senator Treelyanez is heading. He is Bergen’s superior. They seem to have a rough relationship because Bergen isn’t trustful of soldiers turning into politicians. The senator, despite Bergen’s views of him, values Bergen for her expertise, skills and intelligence.

APPEARANCE

When she was in the University, she is fashionably classy. She can afford most clothes that she likes and sometimes branded and to a limit of luxury items. She wears colorful clothes or sometimes sporty ones. After 2014, her outfits changed and became more neutral such as brown; nude; white; grey, blue or black.

Mostly, she wears a suit; a three piece suit. If off duty, she offen wore sweaters and hoodies.

She usually had short hair. When she joined the MI6, her hair became longer. Her eyes are light brown, her hair has always been black. She has protruding cheekbones and a single dimples which is seen rarely because she does not smile much. Her nose is smaller and her skin is bronzed tan which is said to be her attractive feature. She is about 5’7 of height. She is a bit skinny but voluptous. Her hips sure turn eyes due to years of swimming. She lost so much weight during the Russian-Ukrainian war because of the food ration and so for others can eat, she only eats once a day. She has an elaborate Cross and Angel Tattoo on her back that she had made after she got in BI. She also had plenty of piercings she collected from University days. She have tattoos on her hips as well. When needed to expose her skin in public gatherings such as parties, she covers them with concealers and airspray.

PERSONALITY

Before her family died, she was outgoing and friendly. Danielle is an overachiever and wants to join the government as a government negotiator just as her parents did.

After that, she was deeply mistrustful of people especially those in power due to mistreatments and the whole ordeal that powerful people can just kill innocent people and go about their business. She has become adept with loneliness. She speaks calmly but became devoid of emotions. She can also be sarcastic especially towards men. Bergen is principled and in combats, she only disables them and try not to kill them. She does not believe in killing but she breaks it when she killed Villanelle and poisoned the Minister of Defense. She acknowledges that they are not moral and ethical but they were necessary.

She is also kind especially to the elderly but does not like children. She said that she was genuinely happy when she was with Villanelle and hurts more when she killed her. Bergen has sexual prowess, too. She is known to have various sexual partners. But has failed to connect romantically with anyone except for Villanelle and Rhea. She said that as a pansexual; she loves fucking men and loving women

SKILLS

When she was young, she studied violin and piano but was more leaning towards violin. She is part of an orchestra in high school that competed in other countries. She also learned Japanese, Chinese and Korean. Then she learned Russian and French.

She also learned Muay Thai and Mixed Martial Arts from her father. Since her father is in the military, gun shooting has been a hobby of their family and hunting.

She’s not very adept at guns though.

HOBBIES

Bergen is a skilled Violin player but a minor piano player. She never separates with her violin, so she plays it to relax. She goes to jazz bars or piano bar to play if she wants peace of mind or if something terrible happens. She also have a good singing voice.

She also added swimming to her hobbies— a sport that she took up after the plane crash in fear that if her plane crashes, she couldn’t swim.

At times, she trains with Kogami or practice shooting with the Senator.

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

Text

I hate adults. Probably before I did but now it is now magnified why. Since my parents died, many of these adults surrounding me wants to control how I will live my life. You can’t imagine the sort of things they have told me when they asked what will I do with my life from now on. One old man I barely know who is I guess knew my parents told me that they will pair me up to someone of similar age as me. Yeah, like marriage or something like that and when someone said that I should finish my school first, he rebutted that girls don’t need school. They just need to find husbands. At that point, I was never been disgusted by these kind of thoughts. It’s because nobody says them to me and my parents all my sisters told me to value education because you are born as a girl and to value them above all. It is disgusting how low they think of me. I was shaking in anger that I cannot express. Now that I am an orphan, A few hours after my mother was buried, I already felt how unsafe the world is. I feel like I am these Disney characters that children were crying for because that is what they fear— like Simba losing his father, Little foot losing her family, Anastasia losing her family, Cindy losing her father— except thay I don’t find any ending at the end of it. All these childhood fear are manifesting. Off course all people don’t want their parents to die but it’s very fearing for younger people.

I go back and pick up my memories one by one on how I’ve been wronged by adults. I’m not someone who was vengeful but I now learn my lesson that my generation or probably every generation is totally wrecked because of these adults.

My theory is adults always bank their expectations on children and see them as one dimensional beings. I’ve been a stubborn kid because I am always curious and a bit experimental especially to how I look and my interests as well. So adults would resort calling kids who deviate from normal behaved ones as rebels and juveniles. You cannot imagine how would people comment on me because of the behavior I exhibit that seems odd to them. I think now how hideous those was because I never cared and I never need validation from them. That’s probably because my own family —my parents appreciate and support what I do (legally, off course). Amd so I think that is a very strong point that parents must emulate. To give more freedom to children to discover what they are because that is the only dispensable time that they can use to make mistakes. If parents value their children without expectations and without pressures, I think they will be fine outside or when without them.

These are one of the reasons that the loss of my parents were very heavy for me because there’s nobody else like them who treats me like an adult and child at the same time. I don’t love my parents because they gave birth to me or they have provided for me but it’s because despite problems on the way, despite the hardships, they chose to love their children without anything in return. I am not hurt because nobody will provide for me— I know I can because I found ways to earn money as a teenager. I am not hurt because nobody will protect me, I can do that, too. My parents’ death left a very huge hole because nobody else or nothing else can fill that hole again. There’s nobody else on earth that can treat me as a human, who can understand me and who cam stand by me. And that is what I fear the most that I cannot find people like them. I think that even if they are not my parents, I will be devastated with their loss. I’ve heard stories about how my parents are helpful and selfless.

I know and sometimes it irritated me. In March 2012, my mom was in the hospital for her burns on her legs. We were at the Burn Intensive care. We were left outside with Dad and Ran when an ambulance came carrying three burnt children. It passed by us and they are really burned like into crisps like charcoal like an overcooked roasted chicken in the oven. I watch so many horror or gore movies but when you yourself face corpses, it throws you off balance. Minutes later, a woman jumped out of a taxi and was shouting, looking for the burnt victims. It turns out they were her children. She was not allowed to come inside but it was understood they are all dead. The mother came out after doctors maybe talked to her she went out and her eyes — they were blank. Like there was no longer a soul present. I don’t know how to explain but she looks ghostly. So this is what it looks like when you just lost all your life. I wonder now that she must have been working so hard to provide for her children that she barely sees them. The woman lost it and fell by the stairs, I think or glass wall. And as what you expect from humanity, nobody even went near her to console or even comfort the woman or even lead her to the nearest bench. Thus, I overheard these “what was she doing leaving her children alone”, “They are using candles for light why did she leave her children knowing that.” There are more but along these lines. And my dear old Dad? She went near her. My father’s weakness is women’s tears, that’s for sure. He was talking to her and tapping her shoulder. Then moments later he asked for a coupon bond and brought a pen. He was going around asking money (abuloy) but he was being rejected. They even told him to leave it alone or it was not his business. Someone is berating him that they don’t even have money for their sick loved ones. So a horrible me at that time, I felt embarassed and I didn’t like what I am seeing that my Dad is humiliated. Or the thought that HE IS asking money off course I know it is not for himself. I tried to stop him but he won’t. He kept saying “Kakaasi (kawawa)”. I helped him instead even if I was so embarassed myself because I’d rather be humiliated with my Dad than seeing him be humiliated alone. I received the same words and rolling of eyes as he did. We managed to collect only P2k or more that night. My father told me to give up my jacket for the mother who is still sobbing.

This is my favorite moment with my father. I had good memories with my dad but I think this is the best. Because he showed me that you should not care what other thinks — he always say that. If you think like a sheep, you’ll be eaten. I think coming from his experience as a PC during Martial Law in which he retired 5 years after it’s implementation because he did not believe in “Bagong Lipunan” seeing all the horrors and committing those horrors himself.

I can survive in this world without adults telling me what to do. Even if I am a minor, I know I can. But many people will say otherwise. The thing is, children can survive without adults but parents can’t survive without children. I saw it in the mother’s eyes. She was as dead as her dead children.

That probably is why there is no name for parents who lost their children but there is a term for people who lost their parents and spouses. That’s because the pain of losing children is not measured, it cannot be caged in a term alone.

When I was in 2nd year high school, a time where I was transferred to a public school twice because of bullying. I was involved in a crowd. They are not juveniles or some of that sort but nearly. They are graduating students and I got involved with them because they are creative people. Though they are defiants like underage drinking and smoking, they thrive on their own and they know what they want. Their maturity and their knowledge is beyond the confines of age, position in life, and what is expected of them as high school students. My friend Constantino, a church boy, died at the waterfalls in Camp 6. He was found 2 days later. We were there. We were looking for him. I think the whole seniors joined that night. He was found floating, blue, fat due to water and almost rubbery. The smell was so overwhelming that writing about it made me experience the whole ordeal of the night. 8 mean carried him back into the rocks because his limbs are like separating from his body already. We were with the parents. The mother lost it. The father was staring lifelessly at his lifeless son. During the wake which is only for a night (it cannot be embalmed due to the nature of death), the parents are so lifeless. The mother and father didn’t sleep ever since last night. It’s like they lost every single thing. My parents picked me up that night and saw it. I asked my mother during the ride home what they would do if I do so suddenly. She said; “I don’t think I will want to live anymore.”

So to sum up; that’s why my theory is that Children can live without their parents. Parents can’t live without children.

I don’t want to be bothered by the shit the adults around me are saying that I cannot exist well or look after myself without my mother just because she treats me like a baby.

Back to my distaste of adults; ever since last year a lot of peole are visiting me not for comfort but because of favors. They know I’ve been receiving money from end to end. I’ve received donations, too thanks to my sister’s manipulative PR. She said that we cannot access the money (not true. she was just saying this because people will assume that we inherited it already and we don’t want trouble) and that I am working for my tuition fee. I am doing freelance stuffs like editing photos but she made it sound like we are penniless. It worked though. There are more but so much too mention about incidents that made me lost my trust to adults. Because of this, it made me fear the world once I step out.

I don’t know if you know that feeling that you always need to have your guard up or that yiu always wait for offensive things that they will say so you can counteract. It is tiring. I just want them to leave me alone. I can’t take it anymore so I rented a space somewhere costing me P2,5, a monthly P4k. This is how much I pay for a peace of mind.

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

Text

Vivienne Nicole Roman

Aliases: Nikki Moran

Consuelo Larocco

Vanya Rocco

Gina Valdez

Kishino Fumika

Lee Eun Seok

Nguyen Trang Tu

Hsu Lucienne

Date of Birth: December 12, 1994

Nationality: Filipino (former)

Japanese (former)

Stateless

Work Background: BioPsychology Engineer

Resistance Leader

Math and Physics Teacher

Robotics Professor

Cyber terrorist

EARLY LIFE

Vivienne Nicole Roman was born in the Philippines and manifested a higher level of IQ. She is deeply interested in technology and the human mind. She studied and worked hard to create a technology that will be served for better good. She graduated at Harvard with Bachelor Degree of Psychology and Computer Engineering at the age of 22. She pursued a medical degree and pursued Bio-engineering. She was employed by her own government to work on a technology to better help the disabled which was succesful. Due to growth of populism and threats to democracy, she proposed a system that will judge politicians about their real souls thus the start of conceptualizing Sybil System.

SYBIL SYSTEM

The government however was adamant that this will kill democracy and refused to fund it. Her husband, Mans Larocco, a CEO of a Biotech Firm took it up and endorsed it in Japan. The government funded them. But Roman come to a realization of the medium of this system: transplanting criminal minds to rule the society. It will be the ultimate secret of Sybil System. She disagreed and pleaded her husband to shut it down. His husband almost killed Roman who was pregnant with their child. Larocco was judged by the system and was eliminated.

The Japanese government arrested her and allowed her to give birth. She escaped and disconnected the power source of Tokyo to impede the process. During that time, she was electrified due to a lightning. She was presumed dead. But she escaped from the Morgue and even her daughter went missing. She was then in exile from her country and in Japan. Escaping with her daughter.

She spent her years going around so she won’t be caught. The former president recognizes her and it is there she discovered that she never ages being 45 years already that she kept her youth. She still secretly leads resistance forces to topple the system. Her skills were used to prevent aggression and war. Her daughter who is in the right age, joined the war. After 8 years, Consuelo Larocco was killed in an ambush. Vivenne hacked into the Chinese military and disabled it. Causing confusion in their drones and droids, the Chinese military weakened. After that, she spent the next 60 years roaming in war torn areas to offer help. Teaching science, math, biology and helping build weapons. In her 100th year, she attacked the Nona Tower again in Tokyo.

GENERAL LIFE

Due to unable to progress in age, she has remained stuck in her age and undeterred mindset. She has learned 80 languages —ancient, modern, computer languages and secret languages. She educated herself with a lot of things making her so reliable and wise in everything. She also have the ability to quickly regain after being wounded. At some points, she wanted to die already because they are no changes in the world she is in.

IMPRISONMENT

She surrendered to the Japanese government after blackmailing Yoshida into breaking a deal with PH government to ease the tension in the South. In exchange, she also ensured Kogami’s safety arrival and pardon.

She was not seen then but was heard to have been delivered in the hands of the Dutches.

She was imprisoned for 2 year and released on probation. The charges were dropped because they cannot prove that she was Vivienne Nicole Roman since any kin of her are already dead or cannot be found anymore since they have denounced or disowned her. She became a freewoman and sent a letter to Yoshida Kei that she will not attack Sybil System anymore but offers to improve it’s weakness. Once she stepped in the country, she was kidnapped by a Pharmacy Conglomerate to uncover her secrets to her immortality. Kogami Shinya was placed in duty to retrieve her.

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aquariusandrogynous · 2 years

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Nikki Moran 125

— was among the BioPsych Engineers that helped developed Sybil System (it was her idea to name it after Sybil and Civil). One of the original millenials who built it after she was exiled and rejected in her own country for this same idea. Realizing it’s mistakes, and how it used to invade her country again, she vows to destroy it. While she did during the days it was being developed she was struck by a power aided by a lightning. She was branded as a terrorist and believed to be dead. Since then in 2030, she has been living in a body of a 35 years old. Among that, she quickly recovers from her wounds.

She stopped plotting for destruction of the Sybil System. She went around assuming identities to help out her country develop in technology and arms secretly. Every 5 years, she leaves and move again.

She even outlived her daughter who died in the SEA-China war.

She resurfaced in 2119 and met Shinya Kogami when he is being threatened by bandits. Nikki Moran help built a community up in the Regional Peak of Zamboanga to help the citizens fight both national armies and militants. Nikki introduces herself as a Math Teacher and Physica teacher.

The Lumad community welcomed the foreigner and he willingly help in building the fortress to protect it. The government at that time is busy with overseas wars with China and so they are forgetting this bottom tip of the Archipelago.

When the villge was attacked, they fought through. Moran and Kogami started to have a sexual relationship. When Moran, Baile, Kogami, and Santos appeal at the Governor’s for protection against the militants, they bumped into an a Japanese Government officer and recognized Nikki Moran. After that night, Moran wrote a letter to Baile that he has to leave because she had crimes in the past. She said that she will find a way to help them with the cause in keeping the peace in Lumad communities.

The officer Kei Yoshida, a Royal Police agent, apprehended Nikki Moran in 2099 when he was still a rookie. She caused a gas chamber reaction to block the Sybil System’s connection power. She escaped prispn by faking her death.

Kei Yoshida reveals to Kogami Shinya that Nikki Moran’s youthful appearance is far away from her existence. He showed records that she has been everywhere for the last century; changing identities and appearances. A few times, she has been plotting terrorism in Japan. Yoshida offers a deal to pardon Kogami’s crimes in exchange of Nikki Moran.

Kogami found Moran in the church and confronted her. Moran says that she is older than her existence more than the existence of the Sybil System.

She said that she stopped her terrorism attempts in 2099 when she realized it’s too late. They fought in a struggle while Moran speaks of the truth that Imperial Japan has been evil and it never stopped even after World War II. Moran said that she will show everything about her as long she helps her out. They ended up having sex in a confession box.

While in the inn, Moran said that she’s already 125 years old (already past the human shell life). She is a millenial— a remnant of the 1st Millenium. She showed her records of the beginning and realised she caused the lost of power in Tokyo for 2 years in 2028. He asked why but she said “that’s for you to know. In the 2020s, I gave birth to a beautiful daughter and one to a monster. It’s a monster that created you.”

Moran agreed that Kogami will turn her over to the Japanese government so he can also go home.

“I’ve been in exile of my own existence for way before your mother was born. You don’t want that life, Kogami. It’s a good deal.”

Nikki talked like it was nothing ordinary that it doesn’t threaten her.

“This isn’t a negotiation. I don’t think that is fair especially anyone controlled by the Sybil System.”

“Kogami, they’re not going to kill me, I guarantee you that but they need something else from me. It’s time to be kind for yourself.”

“What would they want from you?”

“You’ll know. I am not at liberty to speak about it. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

I drew a long drag of smoke.

“So? What do you think? I come willingly and you get home.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing. To just get the bottom of it. I won’t do anything, Kogami, you have my word. I am anything but a scheming liar.”

“You are a terrorist.”

“Allegedly,” she smirked. I crushed my last stick into the ashtray and felt Nikki’s legs. After what I’ve learned about her biology, I get goosebumps how silky smooth her legs are. I grabbed her neck and kissed her mouth, breathing into her airways. Her hands gets under my shirt and lifted her up from the chair and threw her on the bed. Removing my shirt, “Careful with this grandmother, sweetheart.”

I chuckled. I can’t even try to rationalize her age and her appearance. If she was old and wrinkly would I even consider being attracted to her? But it wasn’t the case now. I unwrapped her from her bathrobe revealing only her panties.

My fingers toyed on her slit over the cloth. She breathed deeply. I caressed her foot, to her legs and tighs drowning my nose into the smell of cheap soap. I yanked out her undies and my tongue rolled around the clit.

“Ah!” Nikki gasped, her hands grabbing my hair. I lift her thighs and are clasping around me. Her juices are starting to flow and soaking it wet. My mouth went to her navel first and I started to examine her scars and now it made sense. My thumb grazed over it. It was obviously thick now but lightened in a way. Her scar slashed across. “You can probably tell me now where you got this.” I whispered.

Her smile was mixed with fondness and quickly followed with sadness. “Cesarean scar.” She smiled, “I gave birth to my daughter but she was avoiding my water bag. She was stuck in a lateral position. It was so hard.” There was joy in her tone as she explains. “They had to perform a Cesarean section and I was told that it might kill me in the process. I was sedated heavily for a day. I didn’t die.”

She laughed. “It’s ironic though. I was told that I will die if I don’t terminate my pregnancy during the 2nd trimester. She wasn’t normal. I decided to let her live but — she died anyway as if she was destined to.”

“You must have loved her so much.”

“Yes but she did resent me. I had to stay away and watch her grow from afar. Every five years, my role will change. From her mother, to her sister, friend and daughter.”

“What did you name your daughter?”

“Consuelo. Which means to console. She was for me.”

I reached out for the drawer to grab a rubber.

“What happened to her?”

“Kogami, it’s a real turn off to talk about my dead child while you fuck her mother.”

I rolled the condom over my hardness. “I just wanted to know more about you.”

I kissed her again before violently grabbing her arm to sitt up. She adjusted her legs and strode over me. “But yes, I will get to know your eternal body first.”

Her thigjs tightened around me. The tip teases her folds first. A few more bounce and thrust and I went all in. The thinnest sheets still allowed me to feel her warmth and moistness. I felt like she was a pool refreshing me over.

Nikki moans to my ear. It’s the music to my ear. My thumb presses and circles on her clit, her legs trembled violently. I raised her legs over my shoulder for better access. I kept my pace fast, hard and deep. My cock is getting large and palpitating in her. My heart is racing and my stomach is swirling. The tip got to the softest so I pressed her legs against, and thrusted deep into that softness.

“Kogami!” She screamed.

“Just a little more—“ I grunted.

A few more thrust, and in contrast, as she opened up she tightened around me. I presssed my body down on her, she is jolting at every thrust. I bit her ears, nose and lips. Our tongues are having their own wrestling match. When it was time, we gasped for air.

“きもちいいですか？” Did it feel good?

She nodded. “すごいね、古神さん.” That’s amazing, Kogami.

I laid aside and kissed her. She got up and deposited herself back into the bathroom. I walked out and smoked for a while.

I breathed for a while exchanging the fresh mountain air and expeling the smoke.

I looked back and Nikki is already dressed. “Ready to go home?” She asked.

I did not answer. I don’t know how my fate will go when I come back but I am more worried about Nikki’s. I am worried about my own morals, too, protecting a terrorist. 2099. I was just 14 at that time.

“What are you thinking?” She leaned on the railings.

“Am I really that dumb and too kind to believe that you are not up to anything?”

“Kogami, think about it. They would have killed me already. All governments kill lowly criminals but will sacrifice their forces to make sure a major criminal goes through due process. Sounds familiar?”

“You are not really answering my question.”

“I already stopped worrying about the Sybil System. I had more things to work on. But... nothing changes Kogami. We can continue living a nomadic lifestyle, hiding, dodging, running away— being a tool for peace and war but it’ll never change anything.”

“I am not afraid of going back. If I return they will probably kill me already but ... there’s this someone I promised to that if we see each other again it will be on normal circumstances. I don’t know if something normal will ever come by.”

The face of Tsunemori flashes on my mind.

“What’s normal anyway, Kogami? Listen to yourself— you know the answer to that. This part here is normal, the other side of the world is not.”

Nikki hugged me from behind. “You’re still young. You have better chance at saving those who are affected by the unfair systems. We cannot change the world but we can only impact it.”

I chuckled. “You say that as if you have don’t have more younger years than me.”

“I am not immortal, you moron. I can be killed with a gunshot.”

I lit my last cigarette for the night.

In the morning, she’s all gone. I am left with a letter.

“I’m sorry but I need to settle one more thing before I go. I will see you soon, I promise.”

Nikki and Baile went to the governor. I am not sure how they were convince to stop military operations and provide protection against militants in the area, but it worked. Baile told me that Nikki used one of her dangerous charms— blackmailing.

She went straight to Kei Yoshida surrendered in exchange, to pardon me. She revealed herself now to the world.

Kei Yoshida picked me up and then to the lounge of the airport.

“She is one of the designers of the the Sybil System.”

Kei Yoshida opened. The old man drank up some whiskey.

“We gathered this and guess she is not really good at hiding her existence.”

He continues. I poured myself a glass and lit a cigarette. “In the old world, she served innovative ideas to her government. A populist came into power and changed everything. This was the start of the brainstorming for a system that will carefully choose leaders that is not self-serving. A new government was installed—progressive. Nikki Moran—“ he stopped for a while and his face was looking for something.

“Vivienne Nicole Roman— that’s her real birth name. She suggested this to the government and was rejected. This country banked on democracy. On people’s choice but look where it got them. An ambassador picked up on her and her little experiments. She and her husband, Mans Larocco, were creating an AI to scan actions. It wasn’t enough. The government funded their research. They gathered more experts in the country until they were able come up with a break that will accurately judge someone’s soul. Dr. Roman disagreed but her husband continued on. Knowing that his wife will impede their success, he tried to kill her while pregnant.”

“Did she kill him?”

“No.” He shook his head. “He was the first one to be eliminated by the Sybil System. There were no denominators yet. It came from a small device but it was meant to disable a person. Larocco had a peacemaker so it killed him.”

“What happened to the pregnant wife.”

“She destroyed the whole research lab. Set it in fire but they were already building the Nona Tower as per Larocco’s request. It was being built by scratch. She gave a long lecture about its future weaknesses. They didn’t listen. So she bombed the tower and disconnected power sources. She led a group of ecoterrorists for it. She was burried under the rubles and was about to give birth. The next nights she was gone. She was inactive for a while but She continued any attempts to disrupt the system.”

I flipped through the pages and sought out many aliases and appearances she used. Sometimes, she uses Hologram for it but her dead eyes remain.

“What will happen to her now?”

“She will be tried accordingly but that’s just it. We need her alive.”

“You need her alive to complete their work, isn’t it?”

Yoshida laughed.

“What’s your deal with this woman? Are you sleeping with her? She’s like your great grandmother.”

I was irritated.

Our flights went on. Nikki—Vivienne was in another aircraft separately. Yoshida went on that craft.

I came back and was cut off . I tried to but it was nothing. Frederica Hanashiro invited me in as a tactical advisor for the foreign affairs. I haven’t heard from Nikki.

I asked a favor from Frederica.

“It was very tough to get information but I did not get that much.”

“So What happened to her?”

She exasperated. “She is in a Maximum Security.”

“So they just arrested her here that’s it?”

“Not here— they brought her to the ICC Maximum Security in Netherlands. What I know is that she cut herself a nice deal.”

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