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fabelyn · 4 years

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In Carcere Ch.39

Pairing: inahoxslaine (orangebat, inasure)

Rated: T Warnings: spoilers for series finale Chapter: 39/? (previous chapter) Chapter Word Count: 16k

Summary: At first Inaho visits out of duty and humanity. And then he finds he can’t stop going back to see Slaine Troyard.

As the first week after Inaho’s departure is coming to an end, there is a lingering feeling Slaine can’t quite place; something uncomfortable yet not wholly unfamiliar. He notices it in particular when he is playing a card game with Lemrina when she first comes to visit, and it troubles him.

Later, as he stares into the ceiling above his head, waiting for sleep to claim him, Slaine recalls what it is. It’s the tug he feels when he’s left too long alone and the isolation begins to get to him.

I’m so used to associating Inaho leaving with my being alone that it’s bothering me even now, when I have company without him.

It makes enough sense, and Slaine goes with that.

And yet…

The feeling seems to grow the following weeks, which is ridiculous. More so because he cannot help but feel the pang even when he has someone over.

During another visit, when he’s tasting homemade cookies from Harklight, he feels off again, and his mind wanders to what Inaho would think of the food if he had been there.

Even after eleven days of intense neural rehabilitation and even stricter behavioral regiments, Inaho is still on his best behavior.

He voices no complaints at any tasks. He obeys his sleep and meal schedule to the letter. He voices no protest when they forbid him from leaving the medical facility. Nor does he ever inquire about his tablet and phone, taken from him on day one. He most certainly never asks about news of the outside world.

Inaho doesn’t frown when the only entertainment they offer him is simple, basic story books. He can meditate just fine or, although this he only does in secrecy, stare at the pendant he once again has in his hands.

The more willing he is to obey, the faster he is cured and, more importantly, the less suspicions will befall him when he does act. Let them assume he truly has no reason to be here other than to be cured, and that the repercussions are so dire he can barely react to the isolation.

Then again, he has heard people assume he prefers being alone. That is, in fact, untrue. Inaho does enjoy company, else his friends and sister wouldn’t mean so much to him. It is simply that he can handle periods away from others without issue. They’re good for introspection and strategizing.

And if he can’t plot right now to avoid burdening his recovering brain, then he can at least reflect. Naturally, the object of that is the pendant back in his hands.

He has plenty of time to compartmentalize what he feels about it and come to some conclusions.

First and foremost, there is a feeling of pride and happiness at being given the pendant the way he was. He has attained a place in Slaine’s heart that’s not hatred. More than that, Slaine cares enough to hand him his precious pendant, something only Asseylum had merited before. Worrying so, he also can’t help the small smugness and feeling that he has managed to pull Slaine from Asseylum somewhat.

Romantic love is fascinating , Inaho concedes to himself.

That said… his feelings on the matter of the gift now settled, he must ensure to rise above them and stop any problematic actions. He should not feel this way. Slaine must not see him as a substitute for Asseylum, as someone to love like an idol on a pedestal.

It has little to do with the circumstances; Inaho sees it as a slight to have the one he loves only love him back not as himself but as an effigy to dote on.

But reality does make it worse. If in other circumstances he might have considered pursuing Slaine romantically, as things are now he cannot allow that to happen.

(Briefly the question arises if it’s possible for Slaine to love him romantically at all, if not tied to their twisted roles of captor and captive… He shies away from that. He doubts Slaine would ever truly fall for him.)

He wonders if he should have accepted the pendant after all, and maybe should have refused more insistently. But that was beyond him.

The dimmed lights of his room turn brighter as Rayet enters without bothering to knock.

“I could have been asleep,” Inaho points out, tucking the pendant away unhurriedly; it is useless to try and hide that from Rayet at this point.

“It’s 3pm, there is no way you’d be asleep,” she retorts, looking around the room as she always does, waiting to see if something had been added to it. When it’s clear it’s just as bare as the last time she’d been there —that morning— she looks concerned. “Are you sure you don’t need me to kick up a fuss for you?” She sits next to him on the bed and, despite them clearly being alone and the room not being bugged (they had checked) still lowers her voice. “I’m pretty sure even Slaine has more stuff in his cell.”

He didn’t have at the start , Inaho thinks, but makes sure not to voice that observation, lest Rayet assume he is accepting this as a form of penance. He wishes he could make the importance of obeying the rules of his treatment get through to her.

“The faster I follow the rules, the faster I’ll heal,” he repeats again. Rayet sighs and pats his back.

“I know, I know, but it’s just too depressing. Here, I got you this. And don’t worry, it’s been approved by Dr. Yagarai for your reading.”

Inaho accepts a small booklet and can see why it was. Not only was it not digital, a certain rarity these days, but it seemed short and —judging by the infantile drawings— a guide for children, meaning simpler language and musings; nothing that he would strain himself thinking over.

‘Let’s Learn about the HyperGate Restoration Effort!!’ The title says in English.

“Thank you,” Inaho says dutifully. “I haven’t read anything on the topic, actually.”

“Good. Consider it my parting gift.”

“Are you going back today?”

“Yeah, the Deucalion is about to make its rounds again, so if I want to visit them one last time I need to leave now. I’d stick around more if you needed me, but I don’t see that happening.”

“The faster you go back, the faster you can go keep Slaine company, especially since Lemrina should be coming for her treatment soon.”

“True.”

Recalling the possibility Slaine had once opened for him regarding Rayet’s feelings for Lemrina, Inaho adds, “But no need to rush if you don’t want to, she won’t be coming too fast. If you go back too soon she might even still be there.”

“...Right,” Rayet answers strangely, and Inaho holds down the urge to smile.

“Anyway, I have to finish packing before I leave, anything you want from me?”

“Not really, thank you. I’ll see you in a few months.”

“Eesh, I will definitely come back to visit you two before that. I’ll tell our friends you said hi.”

“I should be gaining more freedom in the treatment in a few weeks, maybe less. If the Deucalion is nearby, I’ll visit them myself.”

“Good, I’ll tell them that, they’ll be thrilled. See you.”

“Yes, good bye.”

She waves as she leaves the room.

Inaho glances at the booklet again; he opens to find the first page is dominated by a photo of the hypergate as it once stood when functioning, whole and shining, with short text explaining its functions.

The Hypergate was awesome!! Not only was it tall, even taller than a 10 story building, it helped us travel through Space! That’s right! Thanks to it, we could visit the moon, and from there, go meet up with our friends on Mars~

Inaho finds his interest dwindling already.

The wristband he’s wearing begins vibrating, indicating he has five minutes left before his next session. In respect for Rayet’s efforts, Inaho carefully places the booklet inside a pocket of his bag and leaves.

By week three, Slaine has no choice but to come to terms with the actual truth.

He misses Inaho.

He curls into a ball in his bed and groans at the realization. He’d bang his head on the wall too, but the last thing he needs are guards thinking he has lost it again. Maybe he has.

And the feeling is different than the other times he was left to his own devices during one of Inaho’s absences. Perhaps he had not truly missed Inaho himself before, just the presence of anyone else, to stave off the emptiness of having nothing and no one.

Even when Inaho’s presence had felt like a mockery against him every time he appeared, and Slaine had loathed to look at his face, the fact remained that the lack of Inaho meant complete and utter isolation.

(And in a way, the fact that he needed Inaho to help keep the loneliness away had only made him more bitter at the start).

Because of that, whenever Inaho went away, what Slaine had felt more keenly was that he was alone. What he ultimately felt about Inaho’s presence didn’t matter, as the absence of other human beings to interact with was more painful.

But now, the situation has changed. Lemrina, Harklight and, shockingly, Inaho’s sister visit him regularly, and even when it’s not Harklight’s turn to watch the prisoner, he finds errands to run that have him appearing in front of Slaine anyway, as a small solace.

For the first time, Inaho is absent, yet Slaine doesn’t feel lonely.

(Rayet’s absence is also noted, but strangely not as much so).

Which means that if he misses Inaho even so… then he misses the person, and not simply a non threatening presence.

Slaine isn’t sure why it even bothers him to admit this; if he already acknowledged Inaho as his friend, then isn’t this the natural consequence of being away from a friend?

I’m used to his presence, and he’s my friend, so this is normal to feel, isn’t it?

It surprises Slaine how not all his stubbornness had been broken out of him. He finds himself reluctant to fully admit this, even to Harklight.

As if sensing his small inner turmoil and wishing to increase it, Yuki comes.

Her visits can be separated into two possible conversation pieces: waxing poetics about Inaho and, less often, asking Slaine strangely probing questions. They feel… suspicious, somehow, though he can’t quite put his finger on why or what her objective could be. At one point he wondered if Yuki was trying to set him up with someone, but quickly let go of that notion. Inaho’s sister more than anyone would know his situation.

Today’s question is… Lemrina.

“You two are very close,” Yuki says with a smile that has Slaine’s instincts on alert.

So it’ll be probing questions today . “Not that close,” he answers truthfully.

“Really? And does that bother you?”

Where is she trying to lead me with this?

“I wish she could come to me about her situation, but it seems she is keeping a lot to herself,” he answers carefully.

Yuki sighs. “Let me guess, because she thinks it would be harmful to tell you certain things?”

“Yes, actually!” Despite being wary, he can’t help the exasperation when she happens to be on the mark.

She sighs again in commiseration. “Inaho does the same to me, it’s hard taking care of siblings when we don’t even know what’s going on.”

Maybe it’s a result of Yuki being too used to Inaho, because she is definitely not as subtle as she thinks she is. She had jumped at suggesting a sibling connection too fast, clearly having been keen on getting to that point with her questions.

Is that what this interrogation is about? Why would Lemrina’s relationship to me be so relevant, and why so interested in defining it as such?

Ah, could it be that she is hoping to find a good partner for Lemrina and wants to ensure I wouldn’t undermine it?

“While my feelings for Lemrina are in no way romantic,” he makes sure to keep eye contact so Yuki can’t think he might be lying, “and I do want whatever —or whoever— is best for her, I can hardly say I deserve to be called—”

“What is it with this ‘I don’t deserve to be siblings’ thing that’s going?” Yuki interrupts with an eye roll.

“... Did Lemrina…?” It didn’t sound like her.

“No. Someone else, a friend of mine. Nevermind.” Yuki brushes off his question quickly. “Anyway, I’m not asking if you feel like you’re royalty. Or that you deserve to be treated like you share royal blood. Only if you see her as a sibling.”

“I don’t think… I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I cared for her at all for most of our acquaintanceship,” he admits shamefully, “I was too preoccupied with… well…”

Yuki seems to finally take pity on him. “I’m sorry. I sprung up quite the loaded question on you. It’s just…” She sighs. “You are all so… tragic . You are as young as Nao. Same as Rayet. Lemrina is even younger, and you all act like veteran war chiefs. And I suppose you are, at that. But you all have… sorry about this, but… the emotional knowledge of toddlers.”

Slaine blinks, the description so surprising he can’t even find it in him to be insulted.

Yuki looks apologetic as she continues. “It’s not your fault. And the heavens know I tried with Nao. But you are all living your lives and interacting with each other and not even knowing how you feel! That can’t be healthy. Acknowledging and understanding your feelings for someone is such a relief; and I watch you children stumble around with each other... You can handle a war, but you aren’t sure about how to just... deal with certain things.

“Nao’s other friends are… that is, they had a better upbringing, so even if they need all the help they can get to survive a fight, they know about their own feelings more. But none of you do! And you are mostly only interacting with each other, and I feel that if I don’t step in and point the way, you kids might only ever stumble upon it when it’s too late.”

Slaine is taken aback to the point of speechlessness for a minute. He had been told, repeatedly, by both Inaho and Rayet, of how doting and protective Yuki was. However, he had never thought that she’d extend that kindness to martians, and especially not him.

“... Thank you. But I mean it, I don’t know. Well, I’d have to be her friend first before anything more, right?”

“You mean, you can’t like someone as a sibling unless you are friends first? No, not at all, the feelings aren’t linked.”

“Oh. Well, I never had siblings before. I understand that having a sibling doesn’t mean you will love them, but I thought that… to love someone as a sibling, isn’t that... ah, beyond friendship?”

“Not necessarily, no. You can love someone as your brother and sister and be their friends, or not. You might love them, want to see them grow, be happy, protect them, but your interests might not align, or your maturity.”

Ah, that explains her and Inaho.

“...I see, thank you for explaining that.”

“Oh no, please don’t thank me. I think I sprung the topic a little too fast. Anyway, I think my time is up, I promise next time I’ll bring something more fun to the table…”

Yuki leaves, not feeling as content as she had expected on hearing certain confirmation that Slaine had no romantic interest in Lemrina.

She sighs as she begins the drive back to her home.

It is true that she can’t bear to see how broken these kids all were. How they keep floundering, lost, and only seem to find themselves when war and death are on the horizon. She does want to do something for them. She was never that good a soldier, but at least as a mature adult she can maybe point them in the right direction.

That said… that said she did push too hard and fast with Slaine. Her selfish notion of wanting Nao to be happy clouded her judgment. That and, perhaps, that she had never quite forgiven Slaine yet for the harm he had done to her brother after all…

And yet the lost and grateful look he gave her... Yuki nearly crashes the car by banging her head in the steering wheel.

Maybe if Nao and him were still enemies she could maintain her hatred of Slaine, but with Nao not only forgiving but even loving him, how could she not eventually melt too? After all the fine girls and boys she tried to nudge Nao towards, Slaine had to have some world class charisma to catch his heart, so of course Yuki can’t hold a grudge anymore.

Which just leaves her feeling all the more guilty for trying to force the poor lost boy into the path she wants for Nao. If anything, forcing him into a false or premature conclusion would just make any ensuing relationship a disaster.

She vows to be kinder to Slaine. And stop with the leading questions on feelings. She has pushed him enough for now, it’s likely Slaine will begin examining things on his own and, perhaps, come to her for help.

She just wishes…

There’s going to be conflict again in the future. Nao will be in the thick of it. She could do nothing for him at the last war, and she knows she will be able to do even less in any future ones, so if she could at least help him —or anyone— until then...

Slaine finds himself unable to sleep, consumed by his own reflections. Yuki had opened a door for him to truly wonder where his feelings lay towards the people around him.

Perhaps the problem lies in the fact that friendship, while not a foreign concept, is something Slaine hasn’t had before. Asseylum was never a friend to him, she was too far above anyone for that in his mind. Eddelrittuo and he never got along until Asseylum was comatose, at which point Slaine himself had other priorities than trying to befriend the maid that had previously despised him.

Harklight had been a servant, and as much as Slaine liked him, he was too conscious of their difference —and too focused on his plan— to do anything about it.

(Or maybe it was that deep down he had always felt inferior and a sham, pretending to care for Vers’ interest for the sole purpose of keeping Asseylum safe, or else why would he be perfectly comfortable with the man now that Harklight and he had even more of a power imbalance?)

And Lemrina… there had been too much guilt there, too much of using her. He is loath to admit it, but perhaps he might not have been as kind to her then if he hadn’t needed her…

Well, whatever had been their twisted relationship then, surely he saw them as friends now.

But it puzzled him how different he felt towards these familiar people. Was friendship just a broad term for any feelings of fondness?

Towards Lemrina he feels… careful. He wants her to grow and succeed and be happy. He wishes he could protect her or at least guide her instead of being shackled to him.

Perhaps Yuki is correct in that he sees her as a sibling? Though whatever Yuki says, he doesn’t deserve to ever admit that. If Lemrina rejected even Asseylum, who was he to suggest such a role for himself?

But that would be strange as similarly, yet not quite, he feels towards Harklight: he wishes for his success as well. But unlike Lemrina, Slaine feels more open towards Harklight. Whereas he feels he should be guiding Lemrina, he keeps ending up being guided by Harklight.

Yuki... he doesn’t count as a friend yet. As much as he appreciates her visits, she leaves him frazzled somehow. Some of her questions are too probing. Thankfully the questions are rare, most of the visits consist of Yuki praising Inaho. It’s in a way fascinating to see how many praises she can heap on him without repeating herself. But even in that, Slaine has a strange instinct telling him he needs to please Yuki.

(Possibly, his instincts are warning him she hasn’t deep down forgiven him quite yet, so he must be on his best behavior. Which is easy enough, just agree whenever she praises Inaho… although sometimes he catches himself agreeing with sincerity and the fact that Yuki is that good at brainwashing is truly worrying.)

Rayet… is the simplest one. She’s fun. It’s amusing to talk to her, her aggressive personality doesn’t really bother him much and the competitive streak she often reveals during games has Slaine silently laughing. If anything, his idea of friendship had always been what he has with Rayet now.

So where does that leave Inaho?

There’s something electric about interacting with him. Slaine initially assumed it was just the underlying tension of their past, but he can no longer say that. It’s not tension, but adrenaline. He can’t help but tease Inaho even if mercilessly, he wants to beat him in games and rapport in a rivalry he doesn’t have with anyone else. Is it a lingering trauma or complex from those years of fearing he’d take Asseylum away? That could certainly explain it; yet Slaine cannot completely assume that explanation because there’s an enjoyable thrill from his interactions he cannot link to his past.

Inaho used to fascinate him as the recipient of his jealousy (for his accomplishments, for the feelings Asseylum had for him) and fear (of what Inaho would take from him). Now he can’t handle thinking that Inaho still fascinates him without feeling himself flush.

Maybe because, ironically, Inaho had before been an existence similar to Asseylum, someone too far removed from Slaine.

...It seems even in his own head Slaine cannot manage to steer himself in the direction he wants; if Lemrina and Harklight are family, what are Rayet and Inaho? Was their history coloring his relationship? But if so, why in a way that made him thrilled, and not feel heavy when with Inaho, despite the steady dwindle in his negativity towards him?

Is this the difference between a friend and a best friend?

Since Yuki enjoys probing questions on his feelings, maybe she’d be best to ask about this… yet his mouth clamps shut at the mere thought. Similarly with Harklight.

What he needs, maybe, is experience, or a stranger who he can ask more freely.

Slaine recalls Inaho’s friends. They had been well adjusted and sociable, with a history of multiple friends. They would help.

But Slaine is not selfish enough to wish for another meeting, not when he knows what that would entail.

As if the universe wishes to mock him even as it grants him mercy, Slaine is soon given elsewhere to focus on.

It happens when Harklight comes to announce a visitor, with a grave expression.

“What is it?” Slaine asks, noticing his face.

“I… he’s here,” Harklight says, and Slaine understands immediately.

The mastermind has finally come to talk. Slaine nods to Harklight and as he leaves, he sits up in his chair, expression cool and collected, ready for whoever—

His mask falls the minute he sees Klancain walking into his cell unaccompanied.

Klancain smiles jovially at him and seats himself in the adjacent chair.

“Slaine Saazbaum Troyard, it has been a while. Too long.”

“Indeed,” Slaine says, recovering quickly. “And what do I owe the pleasure of your company Co—oh, should I say Your Highness?” He inquires politely, carefully maintaining a light tone lest he let his true feelings out. “Forgive me, I was told you were engaged but unsure if the marriage has already taken place. News is hard to come by, I’m sure you understand.”

Klancain seems mildly taken aback. “What is this? Harklight told me he has just come by to tell you who I am. And therefore, what I can do for you.”

“I’m not sure what you could possibly mean. I have accepted the error of my ways, and want nothing more than to remain here as penance for the rest of my days.”

“Ah, so you don’t trust that I am the figurehead behind this new attempt at a martian revolution? Harklight and Lemrina can vouch that I am.”

It takes years of training for Slaine not to twitch. Hidden beneath the table, however, his toes curl firmly in place of his fists.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re lying by appropriating a title that isn’t yours. I think this is a farce. I’m saddened that Lemrina and Harklight have fallen for it; I’d ask for you to be lenient but I fear that would have the opposite effect.”

Klancain raises an eyebrow. “You think too highly of me, if you assume I have built this operation and kept it this long for the sole reason of finding dissidents. If anything, this movement has stirred those who otherwise would not have done so. Why, I even added such people to your security. If I was planning to simply hand them over to authorities later, how badly would I look if I had put your imprisonment in jeopardy through my plan?”

Slaine can feel his veins popping and carefully schools his features. “Indeed it’s an impressive con, it shows the lengths to which you’d go for your ruler and fiancée. Amazing, really.”

“You are being too hard headed now. You know this isn’t so. Asseylum would never forgive me if I dared put ideas of strife in her half sister’s head, and embroil her in this. And if this were all a test, why come here now, thus ruining it, instead of waiting longer to see where you stand? Better yet, why even test you at all since, so long as the UFE and Asseylum remain in power, you have no method of escape and even if you did, you’d have no backing?”

Indeed, it made no sense for Klancain to be faking it, and yet…

“Because,” Slaine says through gritted teeth, “if this isn’t a ploy, then this operation of yours is doomed regardless, as it’s spearheaded by the stupidest madman I have ever laid eyes on. And I wouldn’t obey the orders from someone that loathes me.”

Klancain’s face scrunches with fake hurt. “Now, that’s not very nice, is it? The ‘stupidest madman’... I’m offended that you would dare suggest I’m worse than my father. And speaking of that bastard—”

Did he just call his father a—

“You certainly took orders from him, did you not? Regardless, I certainly don’t loathe you. I think for us to have any hope of proceeding we need first to understand, where are these opinions of me even coming from?”

“Where? Have you caught the Empress’ temporary amnesia?” Slaine falters, realizing that Klancain likely isn’t even aware of that having occurred. His disbelief and frustration are getting to him.

He switches to other insults. “Are you a complete imbecile or do you enjoy hearing the obvious? Lucky you, I have all the time in the world so I will humor you: if you truly wanted martians to rule, all you had to do was nothing . I was this close to winning the war on Vers’ behalf. If it weren’t for you aiding her escape, this stalemate would never have happened. So either you despise me enough to screw with a martian victory for the sole purpose of harming me, or you are an idiot. Likely both.”

Slaine stops and realizes he has gotten up in his outburst, having too much pent up anger and grievances since the moment Klancain had dared waltz into his cell as if he wasn’t one of the main people to place him there.

Klancain shakes his head theatrically. “So I see. How disappointing. I thought you were better than this, or perhaps it’s denial? Yes, I believe in your intelligence, Slaine, I’m sure if you stop to think about it, you’ll see how I couldn’t let you win, regardless of my personal respect for you.”

Slaine sits down again, crossing his arms. “Is that so? Then please, the floor is yours, enlighten me .”

Klancain in turn smiles, and threads his fingers together as he leans forward. “You see… and I know you surely will if you reflect on it… your win back then… would have harmed martians in the long run, because you would have consolidated power in Asseylum .”

Slaine wishes he could retort. Instead he feels the air has been taken out of him.

“Ah, I see you aren’t even frowning. You were always aware of it, deep down. No, perhaps not even deep down; it’s not as if you ever cared for Vers beyond her, and perhaps a few of your subjects. Yes, you were undoubtedly about to attain victory for us martians, all that was needed was Asseylum being kept under your guard for a while longer. Less than a day, even. And victory would be ours… but what then?

“We both know what then: you made every order of yours, every move, seem as if it were all an enlightened extension of her will and plans. As such, the victory would be hers to take. martians would turn their obedience into utter devotion for her. Attempting to overthrow a member of the royal family was already a serious, rarely contemplated crime, and after such a triumphant win, it would turn into downright blasphemy. No one would dare, and most would not want to, too grateful. And that was your goal: not to give Earth to Vers, but to give Asseylum the ultimate, most long lasting protection you could. One that would extend even beyond your grave.”

“...”

Klancain continues undeterred, tone light and factual as he describes it all as if reading down a list. “Meanwhile, Asseylum would be beside herself. In her fantasy views, colored by that which she only imagined and the few terrans she actually dealt with, she loves terrans, and Earth, over Vers. She would hate it, utterly despise that such a worldwide massacre of terrans was done in her name. She would call martians to leave whichever terrans survived alive, but too much blood would already have been shed by then.

“This part of your plan becomes a little… obscure for me, but I assume it would go thus: either you or, more likely, some of her logical minded terran friends would convince her that abdicating at this point would not fix what was done, and instead remaining at the helm to protect what is left is the best she can do. So, she doesn’t abdicate: hating martians, hating you, hating herself besides, she remains the leader of two worlds… and naturally, runs Vers to the ground.

“She would create every law imaginable to protect terrans and Earth. She wouldn’t give land to martians who sorely needed it; she’d instead institute protected terran reserves. Maybe, she’d even convince her grandfather —or await his death— to remove aldnoah from martians and hand it to terrans as penance. Whatever the details, we both know the summation of what her rule would be: one sided towards terrans. She would neglect if not downright harm any martian progress. And you knew that, how could you not? It’s obvious, even for me.

“Meanwhile… Martians would be slow to react to this mismanagement. For a long while they’d trust her implicitly. Afterall, she was the angel that handed them Earth, why would she change and backstab them now? They’d hesitate and even fear to voice any discomfort with her lack of aid.”

Klancain stops, and his tone shifts. His expression closes off and his voice becomes graver, all pretense of levity gone. “Years would pass, and by the time my people realized you lied, that Asseylum was never on their side and that she’s only harming their cause… too much time would have gone by. Vers wouldn’t be as well armed; or perhaps half the armaments have been destroyed with stupid squabbles between Counts now that they could freely attack each other, with their common enemy gone. Internal strife and complacency would have weakened martian power, trust delayed the appropriate measures… and more than likely Asseylum would have by now handed over aldnoah power to any terrans that survived, ready to attack. Martians would lose. At best ‘all’ we’d lose is a decade; at worst we’d all die out.”

He pauses once again, then jarringly continues by going back to his more frivolous tone and expression. “So you see, it’s not that I was against you winning, and certainly not that I was against Vers winning, I was against giving Asseylum the power of belief that would ruin us more effectively than any ongoing war.

“Even now, martians have been so desperate for hope of a better future that even her stalemate made them somewhat satisfied. However, the Counts have hesitated to relax their armaments given the UFE lives on and, also thanks to that, have held back from infighting. Meanwhile the rest of Vers population has already begun to turn, to question why it has been a few years yet their future remains bleak, why barely anyone has managed to be brought to Earth and why the majority of the planet is still given to terrans, why the one that should be their champion —Asseylum— called for a stalemate at the eve of their victory and now does nothing.

“So yes, a basic look at my actions may have me seen a madman, but reflect a little and you’ll see that I had their best interest at heart when I stopped your plot, only to institute my own. If only you hadn’t put her on a pedestal, and instead claimed victory as your own, I would have helped you.”

“...”

Silence stretches between them.

Slaine is momentarily speechless as he gathers his thoughts. The quiet scrutiny he is under is suffocating and does little to help.

Eventually he sighs, feeling his earlier ire leave him as he accepts Klancain’s accusations. As for Klancain’s closing remark… he chooses to not examine it, for now.

“... Yes,” he admits in defeat. “I suppose anyone with more awareness of what kind of person she is, and a look to the future would understand... Vers would have won the fight, but she would ensure they’d lose the war. I concede that she was my objective; I knew no one would be satisfied with the victory I was forging: terrans would nearly be wiped out, she would be beside herself with grief, and in the long run martians would not attain the paradise they expected, at least not for a long while, and not with her at the helm. Yes, I realized this would be the most expected outcome, but I had nothing to live for, if not for her. I saw her nearly die in front of me, and I wanted to give her a future where no one would try again, for as long as possible. Besides— ” He stops himself, but it’s too late.

“Besides?” Klancain urges.

“The terran society seems hardly better, from what I’m witnessing of the UFE. However, the fact remained Vers’ rule was hardly ideal. Power consolidated in the few, who you yourself admit would rather fight each other for power, and had to be wrangled and wrestled into working together even for the benefit of their own society.”

“Oh yes, I never said I was disappointed that you didn’t love us. My people have their flaws —we are recent descendants of terrans after all— but that doesn’t mean I can’t care and look for a better future, which you were certainly not giving us.”

Slaine breathes out slowly before steeling himself. “However… however you don’t seem to be a solely logical person. There were ways to circumvent this that did not involve allowing her to rule until public opinion turned against her. I suppose these other options might have been harder to do, but you could have achieved Vers wellness without sacrificing the Empress. Yet you chose this path, and I don’t think you did so just because this is the easiest and perhaps faster. Is this truly about helping martians, or do you have a personal vendetta?”

Klancain smiles, and this time it doesn’t seem fake, although that might simply mean he is now hiding his true emotions better. “Now, Slaine, just because you only had one single objective in mind, doesn’t mean everyone must be the same. Why must I only have one reason to dare initiate a years-long plan to overthrow our ruler and change our society? Not all of us have so much focus and passion on one single thing to throw our lives away for one motive alone. Something as dangerous and grave as overthrowing our leaders… must I only do that with one motive in mind? And yet, what vendetta could I possibly have against Asseylum?”

“I don’t know. Yet you must, because the other option was simply murdering her when she boarded your ship running away from me.”

“At which point you would have turned around and railed martians against me. By the time you were no longer a threat, killing her would simply bring about another war, as well as the anger of the former Emperor. Not to mention, Mazuurek would have seen to it that I get killed off in turn. No, I could not kill her then.”

“Maybe,” Slaine concedes, but his instincts still tell him Klancain is not fond, or even indifferent, towards Asseylum. Recalling his earlier words, Slaine tries saying, as if musing to himself out loud, “then again, why would you despise her given how beloved she was to your father—”

Klancain twitches. It’s so fast Slaine almost questions if he’s imagined it, but he knows what he saw, and it confirms his earlier suspicions. “... You… called Count Cruhteo ‘bastard’ earlier.”

“I did. Ah, perhaps it’s time we finally talk about him. And from that it will be easier to explain how I came to have certain feelings towards… you’ll see. You were under the impression I loved my father?”

“I… he was your father —”

“I envy your upbringing that has you thinking that way.”

Slaine is truly and utterly flummoxed. “After we had that meeting, I saw how intently you gazed at the Tharsis. I saw your hands balled into fists!”

“And you took that to mean I was angry that you had his kataphrakt? That he was dead and you may have killed him?”

“Well… yes!”

“Oh dear, in actuality I was angry that I wasn’t there to watch him die. That his beloved weapon was in use and I couldn’t just... scrap it out of spite .”

Slaine snaps his mouth shut, stunned.

“Ah, Slaine, I wished you weren't so entranced by that girl back then. I wanted to have a true conversation with you, as I am sure you, of all people, are the one who can most understand my true feelings towards that man. You see… I utterly despised him .”

Klancain jumps from his chair, now agitated. It’s clear he rarely has the opportunity to explain his true feelings and is excited to do so now.

“My dear father, much like you, ironically, had one singular goal, one singular love in his tiny withered heart: the Vers Royal family. He lived for them, breathed for them, and would have stopped breathing too, had it been their will. He married my mother for the sake of consolidating power, not love. He had me because he wanted an heir to carry on his legacy of being a loyal cur to the Royal family. He never loved me.

“Do you have happy memories of your father? I do not. His interactions with me were demands that I do better, that I grow up faster. My education, my life, was shaped with the one objective that I follow in his stead. And Slaine, I know about your scars. I wasn’t a terran welp forced upon him, so nothing was branded on my skin, but I know how his punishments were. That cane, I abhorred it, I dreamed of using it on him to see how he liked it. Did you ever dream of doing the same?”

No . Slaine’s scars burn with phantom pain. He had never dreamed of fighting back against Cruhteo. The fear instilled with him had been too great.

Klancain is pacing around the table now. “And yet… and yet I wanted his love. I thought surely if I worked hard enough, he would finally acknowledge me. I told myself he was just showing tough love and deep down cared for me.”

“And then… Do you know what he did?” He asks as he stops behind his chair, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “He left me. He decided following a princess along for months or years was more important than watching his son grow up. Incidentally, tell me, how surprised were you when you found out he had a son? Did you even see any photos of his family in his Landing Castle? Of course not.

“When he left me, I knew it then, for certain. He had never loved me. And I despised the life he gave me. So you see...” He spreads his arms wide. “I am at best frustrated that you were making use of the Tharsis, and that he’d died away from me. I could never hate you for that. Nor was I ever jealous of you being by his side; I knew his loathing of terrans, whatever love he never had for me, he certainly never gave to you . Ironic, since with your singular focus on Asseylum, you were the son and heir he had wanted to have. The fool.”

“...”

Klancain is master of himself again, and sits down smoothly, although his speech is still faster than his earlier drawl, and his hair is mildly unkempt. “And with that, I suppose you can grasp at what my feelings for Asseylum are, partially. Initially, I truly wanted to love her. I wanted to have the tunnel vision you and my father both had. If I could love her, worship her even, then I could forgive my father, I could understand him and not resent the path he forced on me. I needed those feelings. And yet, I couldn’t.

“You have a unique and tragic story, Slaine. Taken away from both planets and not truly accepted anywhere, so I understand if this is hard for you to believe but: I do care for my fellow martians. I do want to see my people prosper. And that got in my way of loving the Royal family. The former Emperor I even now still feel some fealty to: he truly saved us from our demise. However his flaw is too simple; his blood comes before anyone else. His son was a fool who instigated a war, and good riddance that he was killed. And that son’s legitimate daughter, while not inheriting the bloodlust, has certainly even less intelligence than her dear father. Sheltered and naive. More interested in terrans and their lore than in our survival. Wanting to go around looking at the pretty colors of Earth while martian lives stand on the brink of collapse.

“You loved her because she saved you, she gave you respect when other martians wouldn’t and gave you a place to stay. She gave no one else that. On the contrary, she has always been a threat to our survival with her mindset. So tell me, what is there to Asseylum for me to love?”

“...”

“And I suppose I must acknowledge that my feelings are in a twist. That my father chose such a vapid, mediocre, silly girl who doesn’t care for Vers over me makes me hate him more, and that such a girl took my father away makes me resent her more. Lucky for her, however, I understand she isn’t the only one to blame. I can grasp that the people who failed at educating her are, my father is among them. So I do not feel murderous towards her, or else I might not have been able to fake my relationship with her for as long as I have.

“Her sister however… her sister I can accept. Someone who thinks, who pursues knowledge she lacks, someone who cares for Vers even though she has every reason to resent us. I can accept Lemrina on the throne, I can even trust her intentions on it.

“So yes, Slaine, I could perhaps have worked harder to find a path where Asseylum isn’t used as the reason to strike a revolution, or one where martians are saved that doesn’t harm her. However... I really do not have any incentive to. Seeing her fall from grace due to her own choices will be but justice served.”

He smiles too brightly. “But please forgive me, I believe I might have spoken for too long. I wanted to lay bare my true feelings without holding anything back, as I think you certainly deserve that, at least. But enough about me, what of you?”

“...”

For the second time, Slaine has been left speechless, now even more dazed than before.

Of all the options he and Inaho had discussed… they had not come close to guessing Klancain and this… impassioned soliloquy.

If Slaine hadn’t gotten used to the emotional whiplash Inaho sometimes made him go through, he might have faltered now. Instead he manages to keep his inner bewilderment from showing on his face, even if he wants nothing more than to stare blankly at the unexpected turn of events.

Focus, he tells himself. There are two options here.

Option one, this is a masterful ploy by Klancain to dig out dissidents. He has even revealed his own hand —his allegedly true feelings— without first checking Slaine’s. If Slaine still had any loyalty towards the Empress, Klancain had just ensured that Slaine would say he too hated her, no matter his true feelings. The smart move would have been to show his hand only after Slaine had picked a side.

However, his earlier points are solid. If he is trying to find enemies of the Crown, he is only undertaking risky moves that could backfire and has been creating issues where there had been none. Testing Slaine was also moot, as he isn’t getting out unless this group aids him. And furthermore, he is getting the Empress’ precious only sister involved, which she certainly wouldn’t like. Then again, Slaine himself had done things she was against for her sake.

Ultimately, he could not completely discard this option, but the plot was creating more conflict than there had been. There were better, more efficient ways to protect the Crown than this convoluted charade. So while this option is still somewhat viable, Slaine believes it’s not the reality.

That and Klancain’s acting during his endless speech about his true feelings had been too heartfelt, too passionate for something devised.

Not to mention, not long ago he and Inaho had already considered the strangeness of his actions when rescuing the Empress…

“But then Klancain interjected the conversation, still pretending to be nice to me, and shut the communications and continued on his course, claiming he had to obey her orders by continuing to do so.”

“You think she was taken to Mars unwillingly?”

“No. I’m sure the Empress was fine with it, be it because it was her own idea or one he planted in her head. What I mean is… Klancain never asked her if he could shut down communications with me, nor did he so much as ask her if she wished to change course when she was thinking of going back to me still. It was in Klancain’s best interest that we didn’t speak, and so he made decisions for the Empress, overstepping her authority, even if he did so in a way that didn’t bother her.” Having finished, Slaine looks at Inaho, clearly waiting for an opinion.

Inaho considers it. “I think your assumption is correct. If Klancain was only worried for Asseylum’s safety, he’d have kept the communication channels open so you two could speak at a distance. And if all he did was obey her... he’d have attempted to reason with her before deciding you two should cease conversations. So, Klancain isn’t as simple as he acts. That is expected. Though that doesn't determine what his goals are.”

Besides, the reason he had said all of it first before bothering to ask Slaine could easily be—

Slaine raises one eyebrow. Better to not pretend to be too stupid here, and make it seem like I’m also willing to reveal my true feelings . “We both know you wouldn’t have said any of that if you truly thought I still had an undying loyalty to her.”

Simply put, Klancain had already come to the conclusion no one in Slaine’s situation could still possibly feel love for Asseylum.

And Slaine hates that he can’t even tell if Klancain’s assessment is correct or not.

Klancain smiles back. “Perhaps, but I think I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

Does he think he’s that good at reading people? Maybe I should tone down my hatred despite what I agreed to with Inaho. “Honestly, I don’t even like thinking about her.” Yes, better to say the truth mixed with a few lies to make it easier to believe. “It depresses me too much. But, am I happy?” He laughs dryly and flicks his hand towards Klancain, so that the thin, fading scar on his wrist is within sight. “I’m not sure how much information you’ve received, but I assume they told you about my attempt?”

“I was informed, yes. Although, you could have succeeded then, if you wanted.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to die. That is, I didn’t want to give people the relief of getting rid of me without dirtying their hands. If they want me dead, they should stop doing half measures. I won’t give anyone the satisfaction of helping it along. Anyway, if it wasn’t clear before: no, I’m not happy. I’m miserable, I am—” He pauses. “I was alone. I’ll acknowledge I have you to thank for Harklight.”

He wants to deflect, but he knows Klancain will notice if he doesn’t give a clear answer. “But to focus on the actual question... do I have some vindictive rage and want her gone? I don’t know if I would go that far, because I try to avoid thinking of her, my life is miserable enough without her in my head all the time. Do I still want to protect her, though?” He scoffs. “I think I’m done with that. It’s time to focus on myself. Although… actually, if you could avoid killing her, that would be better, for Lemrina’s sake.”

It’s not a lie, Slaine wouldn’t risk suggesting not to kill her with a false reason now.

Klancain raises an eyebrow. “Lemrina’s hatred for her is quite deep, why do you think sparing her would be for Lemrina’s sake?”

“Lemrina’s upbringing was just as miserable. While I believe her when she says she wants to help Vers, I believe her hatred of her sister is partially due to jealousy and not only because of her actions or inaction. If my assessment is correct, she might come to regret allowing for anything too drastic like murder happening to her sister in the long run. I doubt you want your next ruler feeling guilt, so you should avoid it.” Slaine shrugs, then realizes he should be smiling for his next line and manages a smirk. “And really, I find it quite appropriate if she’s spared but… locked up somewhere.”

“I understand your point, but so long as she lives—”

“People don’t need to know she lives on.”

“... Ah, you mean do to her as she did to you, in full.”

“We can call it mercy.”

Klancain drums his finger on the table and smiles at him. “Yes, it seems we are finally on the same page about something.”

“Oh? I assumed this was the one page we needed to agree on? I concur on taking the Empress out and putting Lemrina in her place. And even if I am not rooting for Vers specifically… I feel the same way towards terrans. Whoever gives me a better future has my obedience.”

“Well, that certainly covers the end goals quite nicely. However, we do have one more pressing matter: Inaho Kaizuka.”

Slaine makes a show of rolling his eyes and leaning back on his chair, arms crossed. “It would be nice if something in my life did not involve him, for once. But yes, there is no escaping him when it comes to any plans for my future.”

“I’ve told you my feelings in good faith already, even before checking yours. So perhaps it’s your turn to start?”

“There’s nothing fair between you and me so long as I’m locked away here. But fine, where shall I start? No, don’t answer, it was a stupid question, I’ll say it myself.”

Careful now . “I initially assumed keeping Inaho Kaizuka as my jailor was done as an extra slight to me and more punishment. I still do think this was partially the reasoning. And for a long time I couldn’t tell what was worse; the terrible isolation or being forced to interact with him. As if he was here to rub salt into my wounds and remind me he won in every possible way, even in Asseylum’s heart.”

“Past tense,” Klancain notes. Slaine nods.

“Yes, it soon became clear that Inaho forcing his presence onto me had little to do with him being petty and cruel and more to do with the fact that boy has some sort of emotional issue. He is like a machine: he can solve problems better than any but he is unable to emote properly. Simply put, the fool saw me as a lab rat and a curiosity and it never occurred to him that I might be bothered by his presence. Worse, and this is something I’ve noticed people around me can’t quite grasp, he is selfish. Extremely so.”

Klancain raises an eyebrow. “I understand why your feelings would be so negative towards him, but this is the terran who went out of his way to save his people and Asseylum—”

“See? Even you fell for it. Reflect a little. Saving his people and his planet is ultimately for his own selfish well-being. Do you see him taking martians as prisoners, or has he killed those off easily enough? The Empress was a friend to him, so he saved her because she personally mattered. If they had not bonded, he’d not have lifted a finger beyond what was useful for his own survival.”

“Count Mazuurek.”

“He needed Count Mazuurek to run errands for him.”

“So he’s told you he purposely freed Count Mazuurek?”

“Yes,” Slaine adds an edge of disgust to his tone. “I think he was trying to show off or something, and it never occurred to him it just further vexed me to hear one of the other Counts responsible for the Empress getting away from me was there because of him.”

“Ha, true. I suppose I can see why you’d call him selfish. I have certainly heard similar accounts of him being like a machine from certain UFE officials.”

And it’s not entirely wrong. Inaho can be, and is, selfish, but he is also kind. The issue is that his kind nature takes second place to protecting those he holds dear, which is why he will kill and maim without hesitation when he deems you a threat. And worse, he truly isn’t the best when it comes to understanding others or freely showing emotions, which leads to accidentally hurting them without meaning to, and making him seem colder or more callous than he is.

“Of course it does. So, he felt an interest in observing his one direct rival that survived, did it matter how I felt? Of course not.”

“And yet, eventually he did begin fighting to improve your conditions. Is that also selfishness?”

And here it comes. “Well now, yes. But… this will get tricky.”

“Oh?”

Slaine pinches the bridge of his nose as if frustrated. “In all honesty, I was hoping the topic wouldn’t come up because it’s a little ridiculous. I considered not telling you, but if someone else let’s it slip later and I didn’t, it wouldn’t look good for me. So, be warned this is not a joke.”

Klancain leans forward in curiosity. “By all means, tell me.”

“Kaizuka apparently believes he has developed feelings for me.”

“... That is quite… the interesting claim,” Klancain says slowly. Slaine expects him to laugh, but instead he easily nods without a hint of disbelief. “It would explain his turn, at least. However, you said ‘believes’?”

It should make Slaine relieved, yet he finds himself slightly irked at how easily Inaho’s friendship is mistaken for love. Focus, focus . “Yes. I don’t think he emotes like a normal person. I don’t think he is capable of love like a normal person would.” Slaine feels bad for saying such things, but Inaho agreed to this and it’s necessary to keep Inaho safe. “I think what he really feels is fascination. I’ve seen the people around him, they are in awe. Even the ones who don’t like him, glance at him as if he’s different. I treat him like trash. And even if I did eventually fail, I gave him quite the challenge during the war. I think he enjoys those; and watching someone so different from him and the people he surrounds himself with —all who are quite the vapid chorus, I might add—” I’m so, so sorry . “Had him focused too much on me, and as a result he thinks this must be love. I’ve met his sister. Have you? She is as shallow as the rest, and likely filled his head with ideals of finding a partner and such.”

Klancain chuckles, but surprises Slaine with his next words. “I can certainly understand where your sentiment comes from. However, I do think Inaho Kaizuka is capable of actual love. There are limits intelligence alone will not get anyone to go through. What he has done and fought against… he loves those around him, and he is capable of truly loving you.”

Slaine finds the blood rushing to his head at the way the sentence was worded. “I… that…” To his horror he’s so disconfitted he’s stammering, but thankfully, that doesn’t ruin their charade. Even so, he quickly composes himself. “Well, whether it’s fake or not, so long as he believes it is real, that is what matters.”

“True.”

“I’m not too sure about the exact details. Initially I think he was trying to recreate what Asseylum had on me, by helping me and thus trying to create feelings of being indebted to him, which might lead to love.”

“That wouldn’t be true love.”

“No, it wouldn’t. But it’s better than nothing. I realized what was going on and… well…” he feigns hesitation.

“Go on.”

Now Slaine crosses his arms tighter and grits his teeth. “Look, I won’t be judged for this, you got it? Self respect has never gotten me much of anything. So if my enemy and jailor starts improving my condition… well, naturally I tried giving him hope that maybe one day it would work. because if he didn’t even have hope, he might eventually give up on trying.”

“I am engaged to Asseylum, I most certainly understand.”

“Ha, I suppose you do. I didn’t go as far as you, I guess, since I haven't needed to. I haven’t acted like I love him, but I have claimed to see him as a friend. I’m good at ingratiating myself, I’m sure you recall Count Saazbaum.”

That hurts to say, so he quickly moves on. “But I’ve also dropped hints that I can’t quite get over being jailed.” Slaine snorts. “You’d think that’d be a given , but it has to be spelled out for him. Anyway, thanks to that I think he is slowly mellowing out. That is to say, he doesn’t regret stopping me and all, but I see him slowly becoming guiltier that he hadn’t thought of a plan where I wasn’t jailed, so that I’d fall for him faster.”

“So the friendship I have heard about is fake on your end?”

Mix truth and lies. Slaine makes a show of hesitating. “I… wish I could say completely. But the truth of the matter is that I do appreciate it all, somewhat. He is the only person actively improving my situation. The thought of him maimed or dead throws me in a panic; no one would want to regress to the conditions I used to be imprisoned in.”

“So, what you are saying is that you look kindly to Inaho Kaizuka now, because of what he does for you. But if you were to be set free…?”

Almost there... “Are you worried I will want to kill him when I’m free? Don’t be foolish, I would keep up a relationship where he’s still useful to me.”

“What makes you assume I want you to keep him alive? Wouldn’t it be in my best interest to have you backstab him?”

Finally. “Don’t take me for a fool now . If you saw him as a threat, you’d neutralize him before trying to usurp the throne. But it seems you’ve decided he’s too useful to be thrown out. And if he suits your plan now, I don’t see why you wouldn’t use him after, when the planets are back in turmoil over a coup.”

“Well now, he is only a merit to my plan if I can use him.”

“And that is why you’re here. It’s not enough to have me onboard, is it? In fact, given my present situation, there was little doubt that I would agree to work with you. No, you didn’t come here just to test me, you came to see my verdict on whether he can become an asset on your— our side.”

“...Then tell me, why are you so sure he will agree to be used? Just because he is in love with you?”

You’re asking because you want to be convinced you can use him. Check . “Oh no, but those feelings do help. Let’s see,” Slaine raises four fingers and begins lowering them as he explains. “One, it’s clear he did not agree with Her Highness after her ascension to begin with.”

“Hm, I always did wonder about that. Do you know why?”

“He said he didn't agree with how she did things. He isn’t naive like her, so I think he knew her peace was only temporary and wouldn’t truly end the conflicts in the long run. Why he didn’t feel the need to stay by her side to compound this though... Well, I initially thought he was tired from fighting, but now I see it was more likely him acknowledging that with his injuries he needed to heal first. And when he did heal he was too interested in studying me to go back.”

“Ah, and then he fell in love and returning to Asseylum was no longer in his interest. You changed your mind about him not being willing to fight, is there a reason?”

Slaine pushes another finger down. “Reason number two: Inaho thrives on war. He isn’t good at emoting or regular social interactions, his passion and interests lie in planning, which he can only do with war on the horizon, or political upheaval. I’m sure you’re aware he had a great hand in the plan to sucessfuly infiltrate and murder Count Mikael.”

Klancain nods.

“Therefore, he will enjoy another chance to shine and use his intelligence. If not so, why the hurry in going back to rehabilitation? He doesn’t want to be used by the UFE, even during the war the Deucalion barely followed it’s lead, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want some chance to test his skills again.

“Reason number three: protection of family and friends. Now, ordinarily anyone would think that no matter what, Inaho would not want more fighting, for the sake of protecting his friends and family. However, the UFE has effectively nullified that by forcing the Deucalion crew to take action against the martians. Not only is this dangerous if the plot goes awry, they’ll have a large target on their back if the UFE’s plot is discovered and there is the chance the UFE will kill them when they outlive their usefulness to keep this a secret. Therefore, if he can make a name for himself and them while aiding a throne change, he might give them added protection.”

Checkmate , Slaine thinks, noticing the small changes in Klancain’s body language. He’s convinced now. By the end of my speech he won’t have any serious doubts left.

“And reason number four: yes, his feelings for me. If he had any reason to not want her harmed, his guilt towards me ends that. If he had any reason to feel I might be a threat to him set free, his feelings ended that. For himself, for his family or for me; Inaho has sufficient reasons to go along with your plan. So long as, of course, you can convince him it’s safe to bet on.”

“You’ve done an amazing job of selling to me why I can use him. But tell me, why do you go to such lengths for him?”

“Obviously, because I can’t risk getting him killed. If you do, then I lose my most trusted source of comfort in this place. Oh, Harklight and Lemrina are much better company, but they don’t have the power he has to get orders seen to around here.”

“Naturally. But after we succeed?”

“Well, as for that… while I certainly don’t think you’d be foolish enough to try and claim I mysteriously died, as I don’t think that would be believable twice, you could still try to place false charges on me, force me into a ridiculous trial to condemn and neutralize me. But if Inaho is useful to you, you would not want to upset him, so my safety is guaranteed for a while longer.”

“I understand your logic, though I am hurt you think I’d do that. I don’t plan to place Lemrina based on lies I cannot afford for you to disperse. Nor do I think you would do so, given you are fond of her.”

“Pardon me for being wary, but after your precious fiancée put me here, my trust in people has... ah… been completely destroyed. If even she can do something like this to me, what would stop you ?”

“That is simple enough to answer. Firstly, Asseylum does as she will, whereas I recognize the importance of not simply acting out based on my feelings. Not only that, but I do not hold some deep seated bitterness towards you, I am perfectly capable of choosing the path of allowing people to live. Besides, think about it, have I ever murdered anyone, ever? You can ask Harklight to confirm that fact. I may plot and plot, but at no point have I ever done so.”

You haven’t needed to, or had the power to. And that you can put feelings aside just means you might like a person and still cast them away if needs be.

“... I suppose…” Slaine says in a begrudging voice.

“I hope you take that to heart. Now—”

Beep. A shrill sound comes from the direction of Klancain’s wrist. He pulls back his long sleeve to expose a wristwatch-like device, beeping and glowing rhythmically.

Klancain shuts it down with a sigh. “That is unfortunate. I wanted to cover some of my current plan outline with you, as reassurance, but we seem to be out of time. Still, I do think we were able to cover the essentials of this deal. You now know who I am, and what my motive and goals are, and I have gotten a glimpse of you, as well as Inaho Kaizuka. Thank you for the most enlightening conversation.”

His manner of speech is slightly affected, yet Slaine thinks he is not, in fact, lying. “And I suppose, thank you for making a plan that involves getting me out of here.”

“Not at all, that is all on you.”

“Hm?”

“There are many slighted by the current regime that I could use as a banner of injustice to be set right. It’s not that you are the one that suffered the most; it’s just that you are the one with the most charisma. Terran you may be, but you have left an impression on martians hearts. And I confirmed with this talk that you still have the intelligence and charm that I may need to pull the martians into working together, if needs be.”

Slaine is surprised; again it doesn’t seem like Klancain is lying, but could the man truly think that highly of Slaine? Maybe he was better at lying than Slaine has been assuming.

Klancain moves towards the exit, but pauses at the door, turning back to face Slaine.

“Oh yes, three more things. I think I can afford to waste a minute on them. First, I’d be very grateful if you didn’t reveal my identity to Kaizuka yet, I’d like to have a genuine conversation with him, not muddied by previous knowledge and secondhand accounts.”

Meaning you want to ensure Inaho doesn’t have time to prepare or plan based on your identity. I suppose I have to agree, if I go against him in something so small any chance of being trusted will be lost. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Sure, that won’t be a problem.” Though it also means he isn’t planning on getting to Inaho anytime soon. Damn, the faster we could sit down and discuss this, the better.

Klancain smiles. “Much appreciated. Now, about my dear father... how did he die, and why? I am, naturally, assuming Count Saazbaum did the honors, but I’d like details, please.”

“... Yes, Count Saazbaum was the one. As for the details on how he did it, I’m afraid I don’t know, I wasn’t—” Conscious. “...around and never inquired about it. I assume he used his Dioscura. As for why, it seems it was because—” He said it was to save me, because of his debt to my father but — “Count Cruhteo was getting too close to realizing the murder attempt was a plot by a Count and not terrans.”

“I see. If Count Saazbaum ever receives a grave, I will be sure to visit it. I wish I’d been able to meet with him before you had him… removed.”

“What’s the third thing you wanted to say?” Slaine changes the subject harshly.

“Our little group has an internal motto now.”

“I thought that was ‘remove the current Royal in power’?”

“Haha, nothing so crude, or so blatantly bad if overheard. No, I wanted something meaningful, yet poetic. And something my crew could say to each other as a form of a password without being immediately caught as dissidents. But maybe I’ll leave Lemrina to tell you, she was integral to its conception, after all. I think you will like it. Now, until we meet again, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.”

Harklight finds Slaine still sitting in his chair, head thrown back staring at the ceiling.

“Are you alright, si—Slaine?” he asks with immediate concern. “Klancain said the talk was… conducive.”

“I suppose it was,” Slaine says a little airily. “Although I don’t trust him as far as I can stab him.”

Harklight’s lips twitch. “Naturally. So?”

Slaine sighs. “Harklight, I always believed there was a certain type of people that were rare.”

“What type?”

“The highly intelligent sort that plots for years, maniacally doing so, almost. Yet I keep finding myself surrounded by them. There was Saazbaum, now there’s Klancain; and Inaho… clearly only hasn’t needed to do that yet.” He places his head in his hands. “It’s exhausting trying to even think of their next steps. Why do I keep meeting these people?”

Harklight bites his tongue to hold down his laughter. Maybe you’re their type . “Perhaps because you aren’t that dissimilar?”

Slaine looks at him as if he’d just been insulted. “Excuse me? I wish. No, I just work hard and struggle to get on the same footing.”

Says the man who carefully plotted behind Saazbaum’s back for years . However, in a way, Harklight understands. While Slaine is formidable as well, it was impossible to lump his personality with the likes of Inaho. The other two, however… Slaine is just like them. The way Saazbaum carried himself before shooting Asseylum, the way Klancain acts now… they give him the same air as Slaine did when Harklight was in his employ.

It’s why I decided Klancain’s ploy might be worth a try.

Perhaps it’s why Slaine could never truly love Saazbaum, and why he seems to have no love of Klancain now. They are too much like himself. Then again, both also had their own goals tragically interfere with Slaine’s. Maybe if they hadn’t…

“No, nevermind,” Slaine says, shaking out of his stupor. “I suppose it’s simply that that sort of person is the one who is more likely to survive a war and retain power. So long as I’m dealing so intrinsically with the fights, I’ll end up having to deal with these people. Except Inaho. That one I can’t seem to shake off, no matter what.”

You seem incapable of shaking off people that love you.

“More importantly… Harklight,” Slaine says, looking hesitant. “Did... did Klancain explain to you why he didn’t simply go along with my plan, instead of interfering with a martian takeover?”

“Yes. The few people all aware of who is backing us all have wondered the same, and he’s told us. I… admittedly, I lost my composure when I first saw him and nearly, ah, caused physical harm before he explained.”

“Oh, pity you didn’t get a punch in.”

“Yes, I regret my failed efforts. And even now, I am frustrated at how things went about. However… however I see the logic in his reasoning and think he is sincere.”

“... Possibly, or he’s a very good actor. But that’s not… Harklight, so you, and the others, know that although it looked like I was helping Vers... in the future, my actions, if they had succeeded…”

“We know it may have backfired at us in the distant future, as your goal really was just Asseylum. But, I realized that before you failed.”

“... What? I don’t understand. if you knew, why follow me? And if others know now, why do they still want me embroiled in this?”

“Because I lived my whole life in Vers hearing patriotic speeches that amounted to nothing; every martian in power claimed to want better, yet they couldn’t rise above infighting for power. You managed to show us unity was possible. More so, you owed us nothing, yet even your selfish ideas gave us more than any martian after the Emperor ever gave us. If afterwards we fell due to our own folly, our own blind faith or internal power struggles… that wouldn’t be on you. You would have given us the planet. What we did with it would be on us.”

Slaine is speechless, and Harklight finds himself saying something he never thought he’d dare.

“More than anyone, you should know the power and gratitude even half measured kindness and hope can have on those who had nothing.”

Klancain hums a tune under his breath in good humor as he is driven away from the prison cell.

The talk couldn’t have gone better, all things considered.

He had expected shock when he revealed himself, though Slaine’s distrust was understandable; some days, Klancain berated himself for choosing this path instead of allowing Slaine’s plot to run its course.

But Slaine was supposed to be good at reading people, so Klancain hopes the sincerity of his feelings were properly conveyed.

That said, even if Slaine believes his motivation, he will not trust so easily, but that is something Klancain accepts. If anything, a fool that blindly followed him would never have risen to where Slaine had before.

He had assumed Inaho Kaizuka had some fondness for Troyard already, considering the things he’d heard, but Troyard had confirmed it, even revealing a depth of feeling Klancain hadn’t considered. That and he had pointed out more reasons why Inaho would agree to follow his lead.

Yes, with this, he was certain he could strike a bargain with Kaizuka where both their needs were met.

He wishes he could now go see Kaizuka but... he’d need to wait a while, especially with Kaizuka in such a conspicuous UFE place such as his rehabilitation location. Besides, he has an old friend to see first.

“Dr. Yagarai, you called for me? They told me the weekly preliminary results were in.”

“Yes, they are, I thought you’d like to know—”

“I thought I had established this last week, but I’d rather wait for the full results, as it’s pointless to be led by half completed answers at the moment.”

Dr. Yagarai laughs nervously. Getting reused to Inaho’s way of speaking is still a challenge. “You did, yes, but nonetheless…”

“You have something else to tell me, and wanted an excuse to bring me to your office —which I assume you verified as a safe space— without causing suspicion.”

“Ah? Ah… I… amazing as usual, but please remember you shouldn’t be exerting effort—”

“This didn’t take any effort to conclude. I just considered your usual actions and places of choice for talking. And that normally you wouldn’t need to be reminded of a request of mine.”

Dr. Yagarai nods. “Yes, yes. Your deduction skills are working as usual. Which… I suppose, gives credence to what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I’m listening.”

“Sit down. And yes, this conversation cannot leave this room.”

“Okay.”

He sighs. “In all honesty… I’m still hesitant to even propose this. But your results so far have been promising and I’ve been speaking to the others—”

“You mean the Captain and—”

“Yes. I’m not sure how to put this tactfully, and perhaps you would prefer I don’t.”

“True.”

“And I do think this is important, yet the whole point is to keep you from exerting yourself to recover and this will only add—”

“Doctor, you’re rambling, I doubt we have much time, if the excuse for me to be here is to go through the preliminary data.”

“... Indeed. Alright, and please, I need you to be truthful with me; whatever you say will not go on any record. You used the analytical machine again.”

“... Yes.”

“You did leave the UFE, but with their actions… the Captain thinks you might be planning to go back to taking action again.”

“That is a broad assumption, it would depend on what she defines as taking action, or—”

“You used the analytical machine. Do you plan on using it again?”

“... If it’s necessary.”

“Do you think it will be?”

“I don’t know. But with the actions of the UFE and other underlying issues I have been made aware of, the possibility isn’t small. Of course, I am considering only the most dire needs, as I’m aware I cannot use it without threatening my health.”

“If you could, would you find that you have a need for it?”

“I don’t like relying on hypothetical scenarios. But if I must... naturally I would; even the UFE’s current plots might have been less dangerous to my friends if I had had the power of that machine.”

“I see…”

“Are you saying you believe the treatment will leave me well enough to go back to using it without repercussions?”

“No. Or at least, not anywhere soon. Right now we can revert damage, but to fully heal you to the point of placing that back on your eye and use it as you did before we would need years.”

“Whatever comes, it will be before that.”

“Yes. And I hate to acknowledge it but, you are still the best we have. I wish I could tell you to rest and rely on the adults, but we’ve failed at that, again. And so, if you’re already risking yourself to this extent, all I can do is perhaps try and ensure the process isn’t as damaging.”

“By?”

“I’ve been studying in my spare time. I think… I think I might be able to use the theory behind treatment we place on you, to create a buffer from the side effects of the analytical machine. That is to say, create a trigger that will release the treatment substance as it’s being used. Meaning that the side effects won’t occur, as the treatment happens at the same time as the damage. Think of it as neural protection added directly to the machine, or perhaps added between your eye and it. However, this will likely not surprise you, but it relies on Vers technology. It’s, in fact, the reason why the UFE hasn’t gone forward with studies of this sort. It may need the power to use aldnoah, which no terran other than you has managed to grasp . Maybe this short explanation is a little too unbelievable—”

“No, I believe you.”

“Good. Now, obviously this isn’t a cure-all. There will be a limit to how much the protection can do; I believe it will be both a time limit and a power limit. Too much use, or overuse, and the protection will not be able to cover all the damage. And, naturally, once the protection is used to its limit, you’ll need to come back to me for me to replace it.”

“I understand, you won’t give me back the full use of the machine, only the possibility of using it in dire needs without risking my life.”

“Please understand, I’m not saying this is even fully possible yet, I still have to make sure. It’s all theoretical ideas for now. We have had to place a “protection” on other people, in other cases, but none are near your situation. So much so, I’m not even fully certain on how the protection would be added. Inside the machine would be ideal, but with its size possibly not likely, which means I’d have to add something to you—”

“I understand, and I’m willing to do it, if that is how it needs to be done.” Dr. Yagarai has been looking into curing my neural damage since the first signs of it occurred, this isn’t a new thing. If he is telling me now, it’s because only now he’s reached more than 95% certainty his idea will work. That, or he had already come to that conclusion a while ago but only now realized there is a need for its use . “And naturally, I understand the UFE must never know I can use the machine again, no matter how limited.”

“I don’t know if your ease in agreeing makes me feel better or worse for even suggesting this.”

“The fact that you have suggested this without being first completely certain it is possible means you need something from me.”

“Yes. To test the applications of my theory, I need the analytical machine. That is, of course, if you truly do want to walk down this path, if made possible?”

“It’s in a hidden pocket in my luggage. Call me back for the final weekly results tomorrow and I’ll bring it along.”

“Thank you. And, I’m sorry; I’m sorry this is the extent of my help.”

“If I didn’t want to interfere with current affairs, I can easily remove myself. You’re helping me make sure I’m safer in my choice for a future. Thank you.”

“Just, please, don’t make plans relying on it again. Consider it a last resort when all else fails.”

“Of course.”

“So this is your last visit before leaving?”

“Yes, I wanted to speak to you more, especially now that Klancain has revealed himself but…”

“Don’t be silly, your treatment is a priority, we can speak after.”

“Not just that, there is a meeting near where the Doctor is; if I go now, I might be able to go.”

“Smart. Are you going to take Inaho along?”

“... I don’t know. I don't think it’s wise, and Klancain will know if I do.”

“Good, think things through. I doubt Inaho would push for this, but since Klancain doesn’t even want him knowing his identity, keeping Inaho away from the meetings might be for the best. Even if most don’t know Klancain is behind it all.”

Lemrina scoffs. “If there is one thing I’m not in danger of, is listening to Kaizuka unnecessarily.”

Slaine laughs, then notices Lemrina seems to still be hesitant. “Is something else the matter?”

“Are you angry? That I kept his identity from you?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Really? Or are you just thinking that you don’t deserve to be angry?”

Slaine manages to stop himself from flinching. “Honestly, I’m not,” he says sincerely, “I would have never even considered his backstory if I hadn’t witnessed his fervor as he explained it to me. I’d have railed you and Harklight as blind to ever believe him. Now I can see why you both did.”

“I truly don’t think it’s a charade.”

“I am leaning towards that, but I’d rather be cautious, especially given so many lives are on the line. But Lemrina, more importantly, remember that even if he truly means to remove Asseylum, that doesn’t mean you can trust him.”

Lemrina nods. “It’s not just about removing her. It’s about giving martians a more stable future. And stopping the UFE. But yes, I understand. I’ll be careful and report to you, or even Kaizuka, about anything suspicious.”

Slaine nods, but then stops, an idea forming in his head. He stands up and goes to where his few possessions are stored, grabbing a box and bringing it to Lemrina.

“I know this isn’t much of a memento, but please take this with you.”

Slaine opens the box and takes out one of the chess pieces laying inside, offering it to Lemrina.

She blinks in confusion, but still accepts the piece from him. “Why this?”

“I think it represents you, right now.”

Ah. “Not the king?” She asks half jokingly, half gauging if she has understood his intentions.

“The game ends when the King is taken.”

“And that would be… Klancain.”

Slaine smiles at her. “Yes. Him, or Vers itself,” he says, and Lemrina can’t help feeling proud that she can now keep up with his way of thinking.

“I see,” Lemrina had little interest in chess, but seeing Inaho and Slaine play so much, she had sought to learn the rules at least. “I am a piece that can be thrown away without the game being lost. You’re telling me to be careful and not allow myself to overinflate my importance.”

“Not just that; the Queen has the most freedom of movement of any piece, even more so than the King.”

Now Lemrina feels herself losing sight of Slaine’s goal. “Do you mean, even if this conflict of power can be fought without me, because I have royal blood and thus aldnoah, I am more powerful than he is?”

“That is a minor part of it. To remove the current Empress without replacing her with you is to sacrifice all the power of aldnoah, and to fight her without you is to fight with the risk of losing even the power already granted. Not to mention, they may use you much like… much like Count Saazbaum and I did, to receive aldnoah rights for their own armaments.”

“Slaine, please,” Lemrina says, extending her free hand to hold his as soon as she sees his contrite expression. “I was never that naive. I agreed to be used. I was happy to be.”

Slaine shakes himself, focusing again. “But what I really mean to say with this, is that you have the greatest freedom. You can leave, you can run and you can hide. Few know your true identity, and you can disguise yourself perfectly with your powers. You could ask Rayet to help you leave, then hide out somewhere; no one will scour every wheelchair bound person on this planet for you. So you see, what you are doing is your choice. You are no longer locked away in the Moon Base. Remember that at any moment you can set yourself free. You cannot be found if you don’t want to. That is a gift and a power, don’t hesitate to use it just because it was given to you by blood, most of us wish our heritage could come half as useful.” Slaine ends it with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Lemrina stares solemnly at the piece in her open palm, before curling her fingers tightly against it.

“No, I understand. I do.” She’d been a prisoner before, no choice but to follow what those in charge of her offered. And she sees herself in Slaine’s captivity now. “I know the power of free choice, I won’t make light of what I can do for myself. I will only be used if I find it acceptable, and not because I like an alternative.”

In a way, loath as she is to admit it even to herself, she is similar to Kaizuka now: they were both taken in because there is use for them, yet they both could have just as easily walked away. They are tied by their feelings to protect those they care for, but even so, that is more freedom than many can afford.

“Good,” Slaine says with relief, when it’s clear by Lemrina’s expression she has taken his advice to heart. “And speaking of aldnoah and heritage, I do have something I’d like you to tell Inaho about.”

“Oh? Yes?”

“I’m not sure how aware of things he is, but tell him of the former Emperor’s current situation.”

“That he abdicated and is now bedridden? Certainly, but why?”

“I think it’s important, and I’m not sure how much of it he is aware of. Remember, we don’t know how aldnoah works if the member of royalty who handed the rights dies. It may be what is keeping things in line for as long as they have: the fear by martians that if he dies, they will lose all power unless the Empress gives it back to them. However, if that is so, while the royal line’s importance increases with the martians, it will decrease with terrans. The UFE will want her removed before she can once again establish aldnoah power to Vers. If the Emperor dies and the power already given remains the same, the Empress loses her hold on the already established martian lords with aldnoah. Your standing also changes in either situation.”

“Do we really not know? That is, my dear sister was shot multiple times. Few people know that, but I assume Klancain has been made aware of that by now. Yet the Deucalion still works. That means whoever powered the Deucalion, and I assume that as usual it was Kaizuka—”

Despite it all, she pauses to see if Slaine will still remain bothered by the knowledge that Asseylum gave him that.

She expects to not react, yet to her dismay a fleeting expression of discomfort crossed his face.

Surely not, how can he still be so obsessed with her? And he never really loved her romantically so it shouldn’t bother him unless he still saw Kaizuka as a rival, which he surely doesn’t—

Or is he bothered due to feelings for Kaizuka?

Lemrina pushes the thought from her mind; it’s not the time for that, and she might be finding her judgment impaired by knowledge of Kaizuka’s feelings.

“Even if the Deucalion is powered by Inaho and not her, the fact remains that she was never pronounced dead.” Slaine says. “She nearly bled dry but her heart never stopped.”

“... Slaine . ”

“What is it?”

“Rayet said she tried to kill Asseylum before.”

Slaine shakes his head. “Do you mean the murder attempt that began the war that didn’t even come near to harming the Empress?”

“No, Rayet only told me she tried personally killing her after that, too.”

“... Even so, again, if she was never pronounced dead it won’t do—” He stops, breath catching as a memory returns to him. “Except... maybe it does count.”

“How so?”

“Since you mentioned it I remembered it, but once Rayet did say in passing that she tried to strangle her. It’s been a while and I wasn’t focused on it, but I think she might have mentioned Inaho had to do CPR to revive her. If that’s true, then it’s possible she suffered cardiac arrest. In that case… we would then need for Inaho to have had powers granted before it. It’s not just one but two hard to meet variables.”

“ Slaine .”

“Yes?”

“Have you forgotten? There is someone else: you .”

Slaine inhales sharply. “That’s right, I used to have aldnoah granted by her initially. Ha, it’s been so long I forgot .”

Pitying him, Lemrina tries to focus on the subject again. “That decreases what we’d need to confirm.”

“Yes. Nonetheless, the chances that Rayet managed to nearly kill her in a way to have her considered dead even for a second are slim to none, so expect disappointment.”

“If Kaizuka had to give her CPR, the chances are high. We’ll see. Naturally, you don’t need to tell me that this must be kept between us.”

“Obviously. I was thinking of asking Rayet myself. She’s just come back right? This way I don’t need to wait for you two to come back, but maybe it would not be prudent...” He doesn’t mean it; at this juncture Rayet knows too much and this is hardly changing anything. No, he simply wants Lemrina’s reaction.

She looks momentarily affronted at the suggestion. “I think you can trust her. We’ve told her so much, what is one more thing?”

“True.”

They hear footsteps in the distance. Soon, Harklight appears and politely knocks on the cell door.

Lemrina sighs. “Our time is almost up. I will keep what you said in mind, don’t worry.”

“It’s hard to. Ah, one more thing, a curiosity, really.”

“Yes?”

“Klancain mentioned a motto you helped coin?”

Lemrina looks flustered but pleased. “Well, I suppose you could say so.” She twirls around a strand of hair with her finger. “We were discussing using a sentence to not only help identify ourselves, like a password, but also remind us of our motivation, without giving us away. Others presented some very good ideas, and I simply searched and found an old phrase in a language called Latin we could translate and use.”

Slaine beams. “A good idea, using already established old phrases gives it a certain heavier feeling.”

“Yes, precisely!”

“So, what is it?”

She tells him, and it takes Slaine’s every inch of his willpower to keep smiling until she is out of sight.

Even with her gone, he can still feel his hair standing on end. He feels pulled back to the day he watched footage of the car that supposedly had Asseylum in it blowing up.

A heavy feeling. Either this planetary war and hurt would finally end this time… or the bloodshed would once again commence.

“It’s... Let Justice Be Done, Though the Heavens Fall .”

Notes:

1) On how aldnoah access is granted: I rewatched episode 14 to recall how Lemrina taking and then giving aldnoah to Slaine went down, and noticed an issue I hadn’t realized when originally airing. the sequence of events are: Lemrina turns the aldnoah drive of the Tharsis offline > Slaine asks for it back > She kisses Slaine. This made me question why is it that turning it off on the Tharsis meant Slaine could not simply turn the aldnoah back on without her.<br /> My initial hypothesis is that the royal family can limit who can turn on the aldnoah drive. This hypothesis means that when Asseylum was charged with removing the aldnoah drive from the Landing Castle (s1), she could do it permanently and it wasn’t a simple fix it.

That said, winterwizard over at tumblr has pointed out another possibility that may be more plausible all things considered: that aldnoah access granted through saliva is “weaker” than that by blood. So whereas by blood you now have unlimited access, by saliva you only have a one time deal to start the aldnoah drive of one thing only. By this logic, when Lemrina turned off the Tharsis, Slaine had used up his only chance so had to ask her again. I am still on the fence: Slaine asks her to put the Tharsis back on, not give him more access, though that could be from a lack of understanding details? But mainly, I admit I despise this because it means yet again the narrative has shafted Slaine over Inaho, rather than create a point of mirroring them: if this is the correct hypothesis, Slaine only had aldnoah for one instance alone and no longer has any, while Inaho has now unlimited aldnoah access. Before, I was under the wonderful assumption Slaine and Inaho had equal aldnoah access, one granted by being saved by Asseylum while the other by saving her.<br /> Obviously, if it is the most plausible possibility, I will redo my thoughts to accommodate the fact that Slaine does not have aldnoah anymore. Thankfully nothing done in the fic so far has contradicted this possibility anyway.

But I’m curious about what you readers think, or even if someone is aware of canon confirmation over the explanation.

2) Rayet tells Slaine about the CPR in passing in chapter 6. I believe in my previous notes I was unsure of the answer, but having gone back to check I can now be certain: Slaine did retain aldnoah powers given by Asseylum after she suffered cardiac arrest. Meaning that yes, even if the Emperor dies, no Martian will lose already bestowed upon aldnoah access.

3) Klancain: finally. This explanation was planned since I put him in the fic, since this was my idea as to why he would want to take out Asseylum now despite, you know, being literally the one to help her escape Slaine in the first place. Hopefully I’ve managed to make it convincing. Same with the father: not even a mention of him until the last 3 episodes of the second season? No I don't think there was a strong family bond going on there.

4) Let Justice Be Done, Though the Heavens Fall. Sadly this might have had more power if I’d remained posting chapters in a timely manner. In case anyone forgot, this was basically the “catchphrase” of AZ. It appeared onscreen at the end of the OP on s1, in fact. An ironic thing for the anime to say, given S1 was all about survival, greed and revenge, and s2 ends with no justice at all, just a “and then everyone set aside their issues and were happy”, which is far from the justice at any cost suggested by the sentence.

5) My beta would like it known that each and every single colon ( : ) used was expressly placed against her will. If you too dislike colons in dialogue and thoughts, thank her for eliminating 3/4 of the planned colons.

#aldnoah.zero #aldnoah zero #orangebat #inasure #inaho kaizuka #slaine troyard #az fic: in carcere #my fic

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authenticaussie · 5 years

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Hmm... 18 (soul eater au), 52 (roommate), 42 (marvel), 98 (leverage), and or 14 (lantern lights)

babe……….you’re my Favourite™

also, under a readmore because this got LONG as SHIT

8. Soul Eater au

the soul eater au is really scattered because my wifi sucked on that particular day and I was posting it in the mas chat (sunshinepunks) BUT the basis is weapons ace & sabo and meister Marco. It’s a lot of “dumbasses refuse to accept New Friends (because TraumaTM)” and Ace/Sabo being dicks to Marco because he refuses to give up on them. (ahhh my favourite dynamic //swoons)

Part of the plot - my favourite part of the plot - is that Sabo spends a lot of time spying on Marco to try and catch him out as Secretly A Dick and Manipulating Them, and ends up finding out that Marco really really cares about him and Ace? And the way to Sabo’s heart is thrrrroooough his besssstieeeee lmao. So Sabo ends up crushin’ hard first, but then SPYING BACKFIRES and paranoia kicks his butt and he Feels Bad because he was ONLY MEANT TO TRUST ACE and Marco HURT HIS FEELINGS (sabo you moron it’s your own fault). Anyway Ace and Marco pair up to try and make Sabo feel better and it drives Sabo even Nuttier until there is battle couple stuff and a mid-fight Feelings Fight and then a confession and then they become the DMCA power couple. Ta-da!

Ace was a pipe and Sabo was a knife! Or…..you know, something in that realm pft. Basically hitty-stick and stabby-stabby, because you could make a) an argument for their personalities Being Like That (ace is blunt and strong and easy to just hit with but if you’re clever about it he’s awesome, and has the reach to be a longer weapon, sabo is more…well a knife can be used for a lot but also it’s very….vicious. There is very little you can do to Incapacitate with a knife that is not Wow Stabbed. Which I feel is very Sabo, he’s kinda…harsh??? in his way of handling battle, I think.) and b) because in canon, Sabo’s weapon is a pipe and Ace has that knife, and I thought it’d be cool to match that.

42. New Roommate Wanted

an OC-based commission!! James moves in with a shape-shifting thief and her GF and accidentally Falls In Love snickers

It is………..I wrote it a while ago so you can definitely see the self-projection of “I want cute rich gfs to love and adore me so I don’t have to stress about a job”

52. 5+1 Marvel AU

in the actual word document the title is “If you’re broken I will mend you” (Or 5 Times Sabo was There for his Team (and one time histeam was there for him). Sabo is Coulson and Marco is Hawkeye and Ace is a Black Widow (codename: Redback). It fluctuates between sorta implying MAS (but with a definite focus on Marco/Ace) and Coby/Sabo mainly because I made Coby Captain America (YOU CAN’T!!! ARGUE!!! WITH ME!!! HE IS!!!! PERFECT!!! AS CAP!!!) and I love fics that have the lowkey “Coulson has a fanboy crush on Cap.” lol.

(also coby/sabo is. fun? crackship but So Fun.)

Here’s the shortest one haha

It takes about five minutes after the comms. go silent forSabo to know that something is wrong, and two minutes afterwards to gear up.

It takes him approximately four seconds to tear through the people trying to keep him from helping Ace and Marco.

(It takes two weeks for them to heal, no matter how fastSabo was, and a month for Sabo to get off desk duty, but Ace and Marco refuseto do missions when he’s not their handler. They refuse to do anything thatinvolves leaving his side until after he assures them he’s fine, and that hewasn’t just a S.H.I.E.L.D agent because he had a pretty face - though that hadprompted an argument about Sabo’s ‘pretty face’ that he’d had to steadfastlyignore.)

88. LEVERAGE AU MOTHERFUCKER

THIEVES! CON ARTISTS! So this one is actually three different aus in one file - there’s a “MAS but as Leverage” and it starts out as “Ace and Sabo who fill in Every Job They Can (but their specialties are Ace = grifter/hacker and Sabo = hitter/thief and I have reasons, okay) and then they try and run a con on Marco but he’s like Um Excuse Me? And then he gets dragged into their Bullshit snickers. Oh ALSO they ONE THOUSAND PERCENT do not realise they are Madly In Love With Him (but he does. And he’s trying to be patient. But also. Dying. Because wow it’s kinda awkward being in love with. two daredevil thieves)

The second one in the doc is the Leverage trio in the OP world, ‘cause duh, and Parker starts off like…trying to steal kids from being SMILE experiments? and hires Eliot and Hardison to help her. Um I think I wanted to give Hardison a DF?? But I had a whole list: there was altering people’s sight/perceptions, being able to edit vision/specifics of reality in lines of like, code?? (aka he could do Little Changes but they could affect Big Things, a butterfly effect sort of DF). A lot of them were trying to give him a way to…manipulate stuff in a world where tech wasn’t as big a thing.

And the third one is ASL leverage! Marco still gets dragged into the disaster but it’s more found family stuff.

14. Lantern Lights

Lantern Lights is technically posted [here] under “all the light we cannot hold” BUT I have MORE. I wanted to make it longer when I originally posted it - mainly because Lea asked for angst - but I ended up running out of time (I am………so bad at deadlines, jfc). Plus, with all the things I wanted to include it honestly would’ve turned into something RIDICULOUSLY long and I was already pushing 5k when gifts were a minimum of 1k.

This was the original start / end bracketing.

START:

HiAce.

Hispencil hesitated above the empty page, only a single lead smudge marring theotherwise blank paper, and Sabo sighed softly. Eraser nub ticking against thedesk, he bit his lower lip and tried to think of what else to write. He had somuch to say – about Marco, and the Whitebeards, and about the new friends he’dslowly been making, like Koala and Hack and even the standoffish, arrogant Law,but it’d been so long since he sat down to write Ace a letter that the wordsseemed to have vanished.

Hi Ace, heread, as though the greeting would organise what he wanted to say intoneat lines for him to write. He heaved another sigh, resting his chin in hispalm. Casting his eyes up to the window above his desk he watched as theburning dusk faded into twilight blue and the stars began to shine, silverglints of light that were mirrored by the compound’s lanterns flaring to life.The gleamed against the darkness and Sabo couldn’t help but be reminded ofAce’s fire. How it glowed beneath his skin, lighting him bright red in fury orembarrassment or glorious gold in his joy. Sometimes Sabo couldn’t help butwish – but hope – that Ace was still burning, somewhere out there. In the sky,with the stars-

Hecouldn’t help but selfishly hope that Ace had given part of his fire to Sabo’sheart, to burn within him.

Sabogrowled, burying his face in his hands to try and stop the subtle sting formingin his eyes. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that so many simple things couldremind him of Ace, that undeniable frustration at his uselessness still restedheavy in his every thought, that the feelings he wanted to put to paper wereimpossible to articulate.

Thesharp tip of his pencil cracked as he pressed it into the paper, and the threewords he wrote turned from his usual neat cursive into a jagged scrawl.

I miss you.

END:

-Marco thinks that ouranniversary is the battle, but I don’t like it there. Besides, having ouranniversary on your birthday? You’d expect double gifts, and we can’t havethat.

Sabo’slips quirked into a bitter smile, his eyes drawn up to the small gift stillwrapped on his desk, bow deflated from his constant touches but nonethelessstill stubbornly holding onto the silver wrapping. He’d never had a chance togive Ace his birthday gift, and was sure that Ace wouldn’t have expected it.Would he have even been given gifts, when he’d been kept on the candle wick? Orwould the gift have been an extra moment of freedom, so painfully perfect in its rarity?

Pullinghis hair away from his face, Sabo gently bit his lip and scanned what he’dalready written, trying to figure out what else to say. His fringe curled infront of his eyes when he took up his pen again, but he barely paid attentionto the soft brush of hair against his scar tissue. Two years of having them hadgotten him used to his limited vision and things in front of his face that hecouldn’t see.

He’d never seen Ace’sflustered thoughts, nor known what each fleeting touch had meant until it had beenfar too late, and couldn’t help but wonder just how blind he’d been back then.

Did I tell you thatMarco finally stopped being chickenshit and used the word ‘boyfriend’? I feellike that counts more as our anniversary than the battle, especially consideringI wasn’t much better about speaking up about “feelings” after you left. Twomonths of not talking over the topic because one third of the topic up and-

It’s pretty stupid ofus, huh?

I mean, you werepretty fucking stupid when you-

Sabocrossed out the last few words with two strokes of thick black ink, his teethgrit in a way that made his head pound.

Regardless, everythingis going fine, now. I’m sure you’d be happy to know that Marco and I havegotten past awkwardly refusing to admit to holding hands and have nowprogressed to awkwardly kissing each other on the cheek (and then refusing toadmit to it, of course. Got to keep consistency). You’d think that as someoneso attention-starved I’d be better at this, but it always feels…not wrong, persay, but, like something is missing because you’re not here.

You’re a dick forthat, Ace.

Anyway, this will bemy last letter for a while. I’m sorry it’s short, but I’m already running late;Koala and I are set to sail with the afternoon tide, for Flevance, and Marco isgoing troll hunting. Whitebeard heard there was trouble with the gnomes in thefar north mountains, so he’s going to check them out and I want to say goodbyebefore we part ways.

As always;

With love, Sabo.

#marcoacesabo #ask meme #tag games #wip meme #wip list #12freddofrogs #ask aussie #bip bop nari drops #I feel like I should have put a limit on what I'd post in the whole 'snippet' section pft #I have NO!!!! self control!!!!#maracebo

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ellebeebee · 6 years

Text

A Summer at Crescent Hall

Another fic for @queenscrownvn bc I cannot resist.

AU where Roy does not die, and the MC stays at her family estate. Going along with the events of the game, negotiations take place with Tawar and the peace has various degrees of reception among the Sinado nobility. The royal court retreats to the D’Voline estate for summer, along with all the game’s LI because of course. 8)

4968 words, Noah/MC, general rating, on AO3

Genevieve charted the numbers in her head in lieu of anything else to occupy her; the extra food (especially the abundance of extravagant sugar and spices), the added members of service, the linens and all the renovations… And she mused about the new trade all of the village shopkeeps and the taverns would receive. It boded well for the higher-end products the keep brought to market days; extra income in the village pockets and desire for rarities would help offset these sudden new costs.

It’s not like it really mattered, though. The royal treasury had already provided for the court’s stay at the D’Voline Estate, the coinage accompanied by Lord Emry’s neat and very correct correspondence. Still, it helped distract from the weight of the cumbersome heavily-embroidered gown she wore and the sear of the afternoon sun on her shoulders.

The steward and her guard captain sweated silently at her elbow, and other high-ranking servants and even some early-arrived minor nobility arrayed out behind her along the south end of the courtyard. The protocol for welcoming the king was quite clear, so here they all were-- waiting. The distant cheering and shouts from the village heralded the royal procession just as much as the messenger pigeons. Stablehands and footmen fidgeted along the far wall, stiff in their bright livery.

Genevieve kept her shoulders straight enough to please any governess as-- finally-- horses and carts thumped up the great bridge and passed beneath the portcullis. She held her hands folded against the green silk of her skirt and inhaled into a placid, amenable set in her face. A princess feels no heat nor cold, a princess shows no discomfort or acts unbecoming--

Roy’s horse, Dauntless’s hooves rang a familiar pattern against the smooth stones of the courtyard, the sound drawing up old memories. Watching her brother work a mischievous knob-kneed colt out in the hard dirt yards around the palace stables. Surrounded by richly garbed knights, Roy headed the column with his shock of the family black hair soaking in the glare of the sun. He’d grown a beard. Since when did he wear a beard?

He grinned as he walked Dauntless toward her. She waited until the appropriate distance and dropped into a deep curtsy.

“Your Majesty,” she said.

Behind her, all of the other keep’s residents fell into their own curtsies and bows and a resonant chorus of “Your Majesty,” filled the polished stone bounds of the courtyard. The stablemaster hurried forward, taking Dauntless’s head, and Roy waved away an offer to help dismount. He’d schooled his mouth into a straighter line as he swung down, but his dark eyes still sparkled as he gestured for her to rise. His gold-trimmed cloak fluttered with some unseen breeze born of a royal aura, or some such, and a familiar scent of horse and leather polish wafted as he took her hands and tugged her forward.

He kissed her cheeks. “It has been too long. Your Highness.”

She resisted the urge to rub where his stiff bristly beard had scratched her, and also resisted the urge to glare. Here she was, doing her best to stuff down the heat in her chest and the smug idiot-- When it had been too long, too many years of clenching fists while waiting for news from the battlefields. She wasn’t about to let on, though. After all, they were siblings.

“You honor us with your presence, Your Majesty,” Genevieve intoned formally, loud enough to carry. She stared hard at Roy.

His mouth twitched. Turning, he waved away his knights bowing to both of them to make way for the royal carriage that had rode on their heels. Bianka stepped down, taking Roy’s hand. She was much as Genevieve remembered: elaborately dressed and jeweled and beautiful, wearing an entirely self-assured set in her brow.

She curtsied again, with another clear and proper, “Your Majesty.”

Bianka’s sharp eyes studied her. She tipped her head in a graceful acknowledgement, a tinkling of her earrings accompanying her returned pleasantries. Strictly speaking, the Queen should ride beside the King in these sort of situations, but perhaps there was good news to be heard. She had never been particularly close to Bianka, which was a shame as they both shared a sense of duty to Sinado and a love for Roy at least, but maybe that could be repaired a bit in the coming weeks.

And if the certain events that Genevieve suspected were approaching, it may be their last chance.

Mother followed Bianka out the carriage, stately in pale grey silk and a slow and deliberate tenor to her steps and gazes. Their eyes met, and Genevieve had to swallow. Mother, at least, had been free to visit last year and write a bit more frequently than Roy, but it hardly made up for all the time separated inbetween. Mother blinked rapidly as well, but a small smile of approval turned her fine lips as Genevieve dropped into yet another very correct curtsy.

“Your Highness.”

Mother nodded and allowed her to rise. “You look very well, Genevieve.”

“My gratitude for your concern, Your Highness. I hope your journey was not over-taxing.”

Mother closed the distance between them and scooped her into a short, tight embrace. But they released each other before the display could become overt, and the Queen Mother guided her to the other dismounting guests. As the steward ushered the King and Queen on to their rooms for a rest, Mother made a round of seemingly routine yet polite introductions.

Even so, Genevieve summoned all of her etiquette and poise; as much as she would have liked it, the court’s visit to Crescent Hall was not a mere social excursion. Through the chatter and bustle of the small crowd, Mother presented her to the Quait heir, Lord Teiran and the emissary from Tawar, Lord Noah du Eirrault. Lord Teiran was not as she remembered, exactly, and the emissary was most certainly not what she expected. And of course, she greeted Commander Greyson, Lady Phedre, and Lord Emry. She had no doubt she’d be seeing more of the royal cabinet during the visit.

The sun had sunk over the edge of the high keep walls, trailing a periwinkle and lavender train across the sky, when they retreated inside with a few hours to prepare before the visit’s first feast.

“Goddess, there’s a bear in here.”

Bonny raised his great anvil of a head, stubby ears cocked, and he rumbled low in his broad chest. The royal family stood in the archway into a dim study kept cool with an empty grate and only a few candles and lamps to cut the humid summer night seeping in from the thin and tall windows. Genevieve ducked around Roy to cross the room and kneel by Bonny near his nice cool spot beneath great-great-so-and-so’s unicorn tapestry.

“Don’t listen to him, Bonny,” she told him.

“That’s ‘Bonny’?” Roy said, closing the doors behind Bianka and Mother. “From the way you wrote, I assumed he was some cute little lapdog.”

Bonny rumbled again and turned liquid black eyes to Genevieve. She scratched beneath the heavy muscle of his jaw.

“You can’t speak that way about him,” she scolded over shoulder. “He’s very sensitive.”

As Bianka and Mother sat at the plush brocade couches, the mahogany legs curling against their skirts, Roy crossed to a table where a servant had left a marble basin full of ice and chilled wine for them.

“I’m taxing you personally when we all starve because you’ve spoiled all the country’s hunting dogs useless,” he told her.

Bonny’s rumble turned into that gravelly precursor to an ear-thumping bark. Genevieve patted him and stood, snagging his ruff to pull him up and quiet his ichor. She sat beside Mother who smiled with a tired sigh. Bonny shoved his weight against her legs, his heavy eyes following Roy as he handed Mother a silvery goblet.

“He was a guard dog, not a hunting dog, Your Majesty,” Genevieve stated.

Roy raised a brow. “Beg your pardon. I was quite fooled by those slender limbs, those elegant haunches.”

Bianka heaved a pointed exhalation. Swiveling, Roy winked at the look she gave him. As he handed her her own goblet, her arched and heavy-lashed gaze flew from him to Genevieve. She straightened a little. Bianka was probably right. As much as she would like to take the family nightcap at face value-- especially after the tiresome affair of the banquet where she’d been seatmates with Teiran of Quait-- duty did not wait.

Mother reached over to touch her cheek, tucking a curl behind her ear. “What did you think of our guests, dear?”

Genevieve stroked Bonny’s ears thoughtfully. “I think I would like to hear more about the current situation before I come to an opinion.”

“Must we do this now?” Roy said as he lowered himself into the seat beside Bianka.

“The decisions aren’t going to make themselves,” Bianka said.

Roy’s previous, slightly tired, cheer evaporated as he turned his own wine around in his hand and avoided meeting Genevieve’s eyes. They all paused as a patrol of guards passed by in the hall outside. Elsewhere in the keep were no doubt many other little gatherings such as this with hushed conversations about all the intricate maneuvers of the game of court. Only the moon would bear witness to each whisper, every promise and exchange.

One of the highest levels of the keep, and with ancient thick walls, this study had previously been a stately bedroom and remained one of the quietest places. You could gaze out over the gardens and on to the mirrored surface of their valley lake. When the wind was just right, you could smell the sweet dough baking down in the keep’s bakery in the small hours of the morning. Genevieve loved every stone of Crescent Hall. In some ways, she loved it more than the royal palace. But she had always known that she would not be able to stay forever.

“The negotiations with Tawar are going better than we could have hoped,” Mother said.

“Much better,” Roy said.

Genevieve eyed him. “Are you… disappointed?”

“No. Not exactly. It’s just funny. You spend so many years bashing them on the head with a sword, trying to keep them from bashing you on the head-- and you get home and all you want to do is have a nice peaceful tea with them.”

“You’ve been… having tea with them?” Genevieve asked. “I don’t mean to sound…”

“More often than you’d think,” Bianka stated. “Or would like, I should think.”

Mother leaned forward. “Now there, don’t be unkind. Either of you.”

Bianka sipped at her wine.

Roy went on. “This emissary is alright Interesting fellow, and it seems we are well on our way to building a new relationship of political trust and all that-- at least, as far as one can with a nation that’s not centralized like ours.”

“Ours is not totally centralized, though,” Genevieve said. “At least, not in opinions, yes?”

Bianka rolled her eyes. “The Lord Admiral and his ilk are being difficult. And he has sent his difficult son to make the point that he very much wishes to be a thorn in the side of the negotiations.”

She breathed softly through her small and finely-bred nose to emphasize her utter contempt for the opposition.

“And yet we cannot risk antagonizing one of our great supporters,” Mother stated.

“Yes, but who needs enemies with an ally like Admiral Quait,” Bianka returned. “Ally indeed. He is a vassal of the crown, and ought to be put in his proper place.”

“Well, let’s try a few other options before releasing the Queen’s full fury on House Quait, shall we?” Roy said, slipping an arm around her waist and a small smile in her direction.

Bianka did not seem mollified by this, but appearances were deceptive with her.

Bonny laid his great head on Genevieve’s lap for her to scratch. She did so with judicious, careful strokes. “So currently the pressing issues are whether to mollify Lord Quait, and consequently his cabbal, with a gesture of support or to solidify the diplomatic relation with Tawar.”

Mother nodded, eyes approving. “Yes.”

Genevieve caught Roy’s eye. “Then we are considering my marriage to either Lord Teiran or to a member of the Tawarian envoy.”

Roy leaned back into the thick and silver-damask cushions of the couch, and she could see now in the shallow light of a few candles how much the mantle of ‘King’ fall on him like a stone. He had some lines now at his eyes, and that beard formalized him-- made him into more of a statue with that flash of distance and difficult decisions in his eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “Unfortunately.”

Mother tilted her head with a firm yet not unkind expression. “We have always known this would come. Genevieve most of all.”

Genevieve raised herself up. “If your soldiers can give their lives on the battlefield, then I can certainly perform my duty for your peace.”

“It isn’t the same,” he shot back. “You are my sister. You think I want to trundle you off to that awful Quait family-- And believe me, I know what they’re like-- Or exile you to Tawar, hundreds of leagues from your friends and family?”

“Perhaps it is not what my brother Roy wishes to do,” she said deliberately, “But it is what Your Majesty, my king, must do.”

His brow drew together over dark, tired eyes that stared back at her. Mother slipped her hand in hers and squeezed.

Bianka shifted. “You should know that Teiran has already approached us, with a very clumsy and very impertinent inquiry about you.”

The mere inconvenience of having to endure an inept political maneuver seemed to have insulted her to her core. She sniffed.

“And the emissary?” Genevieve said.

“He’s more difficult to pin down,” Mother said. “But I think if we broached the subject, it would be well received.”

She squeezed Genevieve’s hand again. The knit in Roy’s brow mirrored in hers, as if she said the words calmly yet felt quite differently. Genevieve couldn’t quite bear to think of being so far from her mother, either. They’d been living apart from years now, but at least they’d been close enough to make a visit only a moderately tiresome difficulty. Even letters to Tawar could take weeks or months.

“And this Noah du Eirrault would be the likely groom?”

“That’s harder to say,” Mother sighed. “He is apparently of some status, but their ranks of course are not like ours. He does seem to command some respect among his peers, as well as the High King.”

Genevieve mused about this. Bonny had fallen asleep sitting up with his head in her lap. She supposed that as long as she could bring her dog and horse, most any type of husband could be endured. Or at least that was what she was going to determinedly think.

“Whichever problem has the greater need for me, I will of course acquiesce to,” she stated.

“Viv,” Roy scolded. “You’re not a treaty agreement-- a roll of parchment to be tossed to the highest bidder. Your happiness--”

“Is not the issue at hand. I am entirely prepared--”

Mother abruptly stood. Her sudden motion startled Bonny, and he jerked awake with a confused bark. Mother gave them one of her quietly commanding looks.

“It is late and this decision does not have to be made tonight. We shall continue to think on it, and watch as events play out. Shall we retire?”

They all pulled back, and paused. Bianka stood with her lips pressed thin.

“I will say this,” she said to Genevieve and Roy. “Both of you can’t drag your heels about this, blaming your indecision on this or that. Someone will have to decide what they want to do or whatever is the best course of action, and actually act on it.”

She swept past them all, and Genevieve stood for a quick and polite curtsy. Roy pressed a quick kiss to both her and Mother’s temples and followed after her, leaving them with a slightly awkward glance. Mother reached for her and linked their arms. She led them out of the study with Bonny trailing behind, grumbling sleepily.

Mother sighed. “I know I raised you to be like this--”

“Stubborn and impossible?”

“A perfect and dutiful princess. So is it terribly hypocritical of me to wish you weren’t? I hope you’ll be selfish and find some happiness for your own sake, dear.”

Genevieve did not reply. She hadn’t seen her mother in the flesh in a long time, and didn’t want to upset her with her real feelings that such a thing was truly of little consequence.

Ostensibly, His Majesty and the accompanying retinue of knights, courtiers, servants and their cartloads of trunks, absolutely necessary furniture and other accoutrements of rank retreated from the royal palace into the country to take in the cool breezes during the hottest months of summer. They certainly got their wish on only the second day of the visit, as the dawn broke chilly and grey, and by mid-morning thunder pealed against the valley walls.

The second day had been set aside as a rest period after the royal procession’s long journey, and no grand events or gatherings had been planned. The D’Voline ancestors’ portrait had gazed on empty halls when Genevieve left her rooms earlier, and she’d tread her favorite cloister (the one that opened on the square with the pink-ish marble fountain) with only her soft leather slippers leaving a whisper of footsteps in the dewey air. Well, that and Bonny’s deep huffing and the occasional tap of a long claw.

She’d kept a book clutched to her chest and hoped that after settling in at her favorite spot in the gardens that the chill would recede to the sun. She had not expected the sudden rain.

She’d walked far enough from the keep proper that she turned heel and trotted deeper into the gardens, lilacs caressing her shoulders and dahlias skimming her creamy linen skirt. Decades ago, a great-great-aunt had never married and practically raised her brother’s children herself. She believed in fresh air as helpful to learning, and commissioned a pavillion in the garden in which to tutor her nieces and nephews. It had one of the best views on the estate, looking over the lake framed by large and lovely willows.

More recently, the pavillion had at times been used as a tea room or for small celebrations. When she first came from the capitol, Genevieve had made it a personal project to use it as her private reading room.

It was closer than the keep, so as the first drops of rain quickened to a healthy torrent she dashed along the familiar path, kicking up puddles along the way.

Yet as she approached the pretty little structure with its ornate columns and plentiful glazed windows, she slowed at a few feet away. There was a figure inside. Bonny didn't move ahead, but she could feel him tensing beside her. Rain continued to pelt her head, so she continued. No point in getting drenched. Servants didn't come in unless instructed to so it must be some errant guest. There was plenty of room to shelter two people and a dog.

She pushed in through the arched door with Bonny on her heels. He growled.

The Tawarian emissary Noah du Eirrault stood at her book table in the center of the pavillion where she kept her current reads, her sketchbooks, and her parcels of notes on her different avenues of study. A quick scrutiny did not find any of her journals or letters disturbed, but if she had seen him from outside, it was not a far reach to assume he had seen her approach. She was not completely daft, though; while she was not intensely involved in court affairs, she had taken care to hide away any sensitive correspondence before the guests’ arrival.

Genevieve looked up to find tall and broad-shouldered young man examining her with a sharp, unabashed and unavoidable gaze. Almost impertinent considering the near intrusion into her personal space. True, the pavillion was never locked nor had there been any warnings against entering it, but still…

His eyes travelled to Bonny, stiffening at her side and his hackles rising, and his blue gaze rove back to hers. She waited with both the chill of the rain and a tension hardening her posture, coiling in her shoulders. The chill also reminded her of her casual summer dress, with its pale thin linen. How did these Tawarians stand their arms and chests bared? Resolute, she stared back at the emissary.

He grinned, teeth white. “It seems I’ve somehow become a villainous thief. My apologies to you, Your Highness, and to your fierce warrior there.”

Genevieve nudged Bonny until he calmed. “Of course not, My Lord. You’re quite welcome here. You’ll have to excuse us as we’re not terribly accustomed to visitors.”

Still smiling, and still roving his eyes around like a voracious predator, he nodded to the table and its piles of books and parchment, to the array of small comfy settees, and to the little shelves with potted flowers and various mementos. “I take it this is your… what would you call this room?”

“My reading room,” she supplied.

She stepped forward away from the door’s draft and laid the slightly damp volume she’d been clutching onto the table. Instead of trundling off to his pile of horse blankets in the corner, Bonny stayed at her heels. Noah had her copy of A Seneschal’s Guide to Kingdom Expenditures in a single large-palmed and mahogany-skinned hand. Her eyes traveled back up to his.

She pushed away a twitch of her stomach; she hadn’t realized just quite how tall he was.

Noah put down the economics treaty. “It is a… pleasant place. I could see how it would be nice for reading.”

“If you were looking for reading material, you’ll find much more in the keep’s library,” Genevieve said.

“Oh, I’ve already found it,” he said. “And I look forward to getting more familiar with it.”

He paired the statement with another of those cheeky glances. She ignored it. And quelled any feeling of being small and scruffy with her wet hair sticking to her neck and her overly simple dress, just as damp and clinging and mussed. While he wore his fine furs and intricate tattoos and glittering gold earring with an enviable cavalier attitude.

He continued. “But it was a nice morning, very quiet and not crowded. I wanted to explore a bit.” That grin again. “And here I found this little jewel.”

Pulling forward a findly wooden chair with its back of carved flowers and hummingbirds, she sat at the table. He was difficult to read beyond that wolfish grin and the observant eyes. Had he been snooping and was he now attempting to rattle her to deflect suspicion? Was he laying some sort of foundation from which to pull tight the diplomatic knot between their countries? So to speak.

She’d expected a little more time before she had to deal with this. Straightening her spine, Genevieve met and kept his gaze.

“Sit, please,” she said. “The rain won’t slack for some time.”

He paused. Perhaps he noted her pointedly allowing him to take a seat. Good. Still, he retained that good humor about his lips and sat across from her.

They exchanged some polite comments about Kingdom Expenditures. Maybe because she had drawn up her metaphorical guard, she found him steering the conversation with deceptively simple questions that worked her reserve of knowledge. Which she had believed sizeable if not worthy of pride, but with his unfamiliar approach to the logic behind tariffs and exports and such-- she wondered. For several years she’d been shut-away here at the D’Voline Estate, and even before that her life experiences had been carefully choreographed by her parents and tutors.

Maybe she had always only been meant for a political marriage, but would she be able to manage even that? Everything she knew came from books. And not many printed from outside her own country, at that.

Bonny got tired of glowering at Noah du Eirrault while drooling on her knee, so he hunkered down in his corner with his bed of horse blankets. The rain dancing on the eaves and whistley dog snores punctuated a silence between them. The cool air slowed the drying of her clothes terribly, and her little leather slippers had constricted, wet and icey, until they chafed her feet. But, she would rather die than display anything other than a poised tranquility.

Noah coughed, and she swiveled. His coarse black locks brushed over twinkling eyes. Unprompted, he stood and bent beneath the shelves on the far wall. Genevieve realized what he was doing and shifted. In winter, the pavillion looked over an almost sugary frozen lake, with frosted trees all around, and the peace and quiet was even better. To take care of the cold, she kept a little brazier that she usually sent a servant ahead to light.

Noah brought this brazier around to her seat-- how long exactly had he been poking around before she came?-- and bent over it, producing a flint from seemingly thin air. She opened her mouth but the protest trickled away reflexively and perplexingly, as his fingers poked at the brazier expertly and deftly struck the flint as easy as breathing. They were broad hands, with thick-padded fingers and an elegant splay of bones against the skin of the backs. Knuckles that worked like lute strings.

She noticed her reddened feet sticking out beneath her wet hem, and pulled them out of sight-- too quickly as he noticed and glanced up.

Biting her tongue against the curse she wanted to give at his expression, she cleared her throat. “Thank you. That was very kind of--”

“May I?”

Genevieve stared. Noah gestured to where her feet had retreated. It wasn’t untoward, exactly. It could almost be called chivalrous, except-- And it wasn’t as if it would be out of her rights to refuse, but-- With no reason to demure coming to mind, and on an enigmatic compulsion as if watching someone else make the decision, she nodded.

With a slow care, he lifted one foot towards him, his fingers behind her heel. Her chest twitched at the way her foot in his hand barely left the floor, her skirt hardly disturbed and not even revealing her ankle, and at the way his face-- like carved earth-- turned rapt to his own actions. He slipped the soggy leather slipper from her foot and took the other with the same attentiveness. The rough pads of his fingers barely glanced her skin.

It was like having a new maid of the wardrobe. But of course, none of her maids had ever had such wide shoulders that moved with such self-assured and cat-like grace. And none of her maids had a presence that felt too large, even kneeling. And of course none of them had such an unfamiliar scent. Not bad, just… different. Like a chord that she’d never heard that painted a hard and beautiful landscape. It was a personal scent, almost intimate.

Noah placed her shoes by the brazier to dry and stood. She found herself looking quite a ways up and trying to master her face and the pounding in her chest. Smiling, he prowled back to his seat at the other side of the table.

Goddess, what a-- How dare--

“I hope to benefit from the stay as much as possible,” he said. He paused deliberately. “So other than The Seneschal’s Guide to Kingdom Expenditures, what would Your Highness recommend to me from your library?”

Genevieve studied him. He leaned slightly toward her with that seemingly permanent smile tempered a bit. Despite herself-- despite her determination to guard against ulterior motives and to be annoyed-- she rather liked his sincerity. She liked his interest in her reading and their family’s collection of books. She collected her nerves enough to recommend a few titles, and they exchanged some subtle barbs over the topics.

The backdrop of the rain’s thrum petered off, and the light chatter of purple and blue birds took its place. Already, the chill was giving away to heavy summer humidity dragging a pungent petrichor in its wake. Her feet were comfortably warm and dry.

Noah stood. “Begging your pardon, Your Highness, I think I will impose on your reading room no longer.”

He bowed to her in the Sinadoan fashion, albeit a bit more embellished than strictly correct. He smiled.

She remained seated as befit her station, and raised a brow. “Then I thank you for your kindness, My Lord. And hope you have a pleasant day. If you need further guidance within the keep, remember you are always welcome to inquire.”

Maybe he’d won a few a points against her, but she certainly hadn’t forgotten him “stumbling” onto her semi-private room.

“Then I hope you won’t blame me if I come to depend on your company, Highness,” he said, eyes catching her.

She nodded, resisting the desire to roll her eyes. He turned, gave Bonny his own respectful bow (to which Bonny grumbled and turned over), and Noah du Eirrault strode from the pavillion into the damp but sunny garden.

Genevieve sat at her table, wiggling her bare toes and trying to remember all the assertions she’d given her family the night before. She did not know what to think of the emissary. She didn’t know what to even think of herself at this moment.

Bonus:

This is my hc for Bonny (x)

Unnecessary, I know, but consider this: Big Dog. Big Spoilt Baby Dog.

#queens crown #queens crown vn #queenscrownvn #noah du eirrault #fanfiction #my writing #a writing problem i never considered id have: do i write The Scene even if im afraid itll come off f//oot f//etish-y??#dont @ me #honestly writing bianka and roy was some of my fave #also lmao i finally named my mc #if u havent played the demo for this u definitely should!

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nekodracones · 4 years

Text

Why Evolution Runes should be a thing

Half an hour ago I was browsing the ever-present forums and reading through all the, uh, dramatics. Something something farm bases. New post popped up requesting the introduction of ‘rainbow stones’. Cat was tempted to pop in and reply. Cat saw an immediate forum CRACKDOWN on this poor nublet. Cat decides that forums do not support free speech and decides to retreat to her home ground. The Dumb Tumblr Blog.

First and foremost. I used to think eternal evolution stones were a terrible idea and agreed with everyone about how limited-time things should stay limited time, but as I thought about it more...well. It's indeed a terrible idea for the game, played as intended, but it's not that bad of an idea for where the game actually is right now. And that’s what PG devs should aim to tackle, before heading for the far off goal of an ideal game.

What’s the reality of War Dragons?

Too few viable dragons in an individual roster at any one time.

1. In general, not a lot of good dragons are released in each 3 month period. Half or more of each tier of lineage dragons are useless or unfeasible on real bases, and you’re not likely to see endgame-tier legendaries being used once their mythic counterparts come out. Of the mythics, it’s a rare tier where all three are good, useful dragons. People who aren’t at endgame won’t even need to worry about these endgame lineage dragons, too- they’ll be irrelevant by the time they breed them.

2. Legendaries are underpowered compared to mythics. This is reasonable; there should be some differentiation in power between legendaries and mythics, at least. But for the majority of the player base that only gets a single mythic every season, this means that they have...one viable dragon every season. For the people who don’t get mythics every season, this means that they need to hope that one of the legendaries will be viable, and they can gun for it. In higher tiers, it’s a rare player indeed who gets more than a single viable legendary dragon out of each season.

3. Single dragon meta. The prior two factors coalesce into....the reason why we mostly only see dragons A, B, and C on our defence logs. This means that base design is a very boring exercise. (not that it isn’t already! Tell me the last time the blue mage was relevant?) Combined with how recent dragons seem to need the same few setups to be defeated...it really becomes a test of defender/attacker skill instead of softer factors such as people using dragons that are more suited to taking X setup, where the same dragons might fail on a Y setup. (This is not to say that training attacker/defender skill is bad! A single setup/dragon meta is simply very boring, and most sense of strategy and variation in fights is lost. Ideally I’d like to see battles depend on more factors...but maybe that’s just a me thing.)

How do Evolution Runes help?

Until PG begins to release more viable dragons in each seasonal period, we can artificially increase the variation in dragon-base battles by giving past-season and lower tier dragons a chance to remain relevant for a longer period of time should players prefer said dragons.

1. Why do divines need to be designed with planned obsolescence in mind? Is PG not developing newer, shinier, competitive products every season? If they can’t compete, perhaps we should keep using the dragons we enjoy instead of forcing ourselves to use dragons that we do not like as much. Give PG a chance to attract our eyes again the next season.

2. Conversely, lately, I’ve heard a lot of people emit sighs of relief upon realising that maxed Gig now struggles with their bases. Before Gig, it was Namaka. Should planned obsolescence really rear it’s head in such a way, where unbalanced dragons are deemed irrelevant simply because you’ve outleveled them? I believe that it’s PG’s responsibility to design dragons well and pay attention to how defensible products are, be they old or new. Forcing them to pay attention to eternally evolving dragons such that they’re all balanced and good dragons would be nice, instead of letting PG forget about our dragons simply because ‘they’re irrelevant now’. Imagine Narlyth without the WOM glitch. Imagine Noctarn with destroyable monuments in Atlas.

3. Why can’t lineage dragons level up with you? There aren’t a lot of great ones, and the ones that are don’t deserve to be forgotten once a new tier comes out. The fact that you cannot level lineages up the same way you level divine dragons up is the sole reason why they are so forgotten by the 95% of the game who’s not at endgame, and since lineages of x tier are comparable but not excelling over divines of x tier, there’s honestly no reason to ever choose to invest time in learning a lineage dragon unless you think you’ll be stuck at that tier for a while, aka. you’re endgame.

4. More dragons, more possible base metas. More endgame dragons, more dragons to fly. More stuff, more fun.

5. The very fact that people are asking for rainbow stones demonstrates that there is a demand for more variety in gameplay. Certainly older dragons must be less relevant to today’s gameplay meta, and fall behind, even if they were endgame too, no...? Even so, people ask for older dragons to make their return all the time. Be it for nostalgia value, or because they actually prefer to fly those dragons, it doesn’t really matter. People asking for reboots of older dragons should be granted their wish- either they fly their dragons and realise it’s weaker than they remembered, or they find that it’s just as good as ever, which then begs the question of whether that dragon is unbalanced and requires tweaking, or recent dragon designs are simply....boring and unappealing to players.

Arguments against rainbow stones

1. Takes away PG revenue. This is obvious. If you have a dragon that lasts forever, why would you need to go after newer dragons? Solution: in the next section.

2. Quoted from Mod Kardul on the forums. This is a fair argument, but I’m also...not certain that people care about what tiers their divines are if they’re getting them as collectibles, unless they plan to actually fly them. Solution: Don’t give newer players a chance to obtain older divine dragons

3. Less incentive to finish a dragon within a season. Solution: Only allow evolution runes to be equipped to expert dragons.

4. Limited time is limited time. Sure, but...you can change the way you look at things. Sure evolution stones can be limited time up till the final stone available at the time. Evolution runes...don’t need to be. :D

So why runes and not stones?

Obviously there needs to be something to differentiate a true endgame dragon and an eternally-evolving one. A lot of people would lose motivation to go for the shiniest new mythic if they could just stick with their old favourites, which would lose PG money. How could this suggestion be actionable?

1. Runes take up rune slots on a dragon. At high levels of gameplay, these runes matter. Using an evolution rune on a dragon would take up a slot and handicap said dragon; a handicap that many may nevertheless find worth it, but will encourage endgame players to continue looking for true endgame dragons to preferentially play with instead. It would definitely help if rune effects were buffed such that the removal of a single rune would be noticeable in a dragon’s performance.

2. Make stones from mythics convertible to general evolution runes. All stones on a full mythic divine= a single mythic-tier evolution rune up till the highest tier of stone converted, equippable on any rarity of dragon. All stones on a full legendary divine= a single legendary-tier evolution rune up until the highest tier of stone converted, equippable on legendary dragons and weaker, etc. This not only makes new dragons relevant to collect, but also serves as a guarantee= if you don’t like a dragon, you can convert it into a rune and put it on a dragon you actually like. At the same time, there’s an element of sacrifice= do you want to sacrifice two dragons to produce a single viable dragon?

3. Unrelated, but I’d really like to see dragon-specific runes and glyphs not take up rune slots. It would make divines more valuable than lineages, as only they have dragon-specific runes in their lines, incentivising people to go for them.

All in all I just really want...more variety, man. If PG can make that happen without having to resort to my idea, I’d be jumping for joy. But it honestly feels like them designing more sensible, viable dragons would be harder than just letting us all use old dragons while they work on that.

...---...

I...may actually be self posting this one straight to the forums in the hopes that people can actually see this post? If the thread gets locked, please feel free to drop a message in my ask box so I can still respond here, I guess. It’s anonymous unless you choose to sign in, and you don’t need to. :)

The thread, for reference.

#idea #catpost #opinion #rainbow stones!!!#loooooooong post #other #maingame

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deck16 · 5 years

Photo

Guild Wars 2 Retrospective

I've played a number of MMOs over the years. Guild Wars 2 is my favourite, and it occupies a place in my memories like a favourite book or movie. And so, I want to write down my thoughts about it.

I don't think I'm finished with the game yet. As I write, the Icebrood Saga is soon to be launched. Even ignoring future content there's so much current content I want to do.

That said, now's a good time to write down my thoughts. I finished Living World Season 4 not too long ago and it had a certain finality that made me want to pause and reflect.

This is going to be long. And it's going to be a lot of opinion. There's going to be a lot of praise, but if I praise Guild Wars 2 for something don't take that to imply that only GW2 does that thing, or that GW2 does it best.

Soundtrack

Have a listen while you read this.

youtube

The earlier stuff by Jeremy Soule is different to what came later, in expansions and such, but not incongruous. It's all good.

Music is one of those strange and strong memory triggers, like smell. There are some refrains from the soundtrack that bring back memories. I remember listening to the soundtrack when the game was released to help get through a particularly un-fun and short-lived job. Some tracks bring back memories of playing with friends. Or just exploring Tyria on my own.

Money

Ars Gratia Artis

How does one make money off a product, like a game?

Make it worth buying.

(Other.)

Option 2 includes things like psychological tricks, and planned obsolescence with yearly releases.

I can't say GW2 never indulges in Option 2. But I feel it mostly goes for Option 1.

Pictured: ArenaNet offices after releasing the black wings cosmetic.

Subscription Model

Guild Wars 2, like its predecessor, never demanded a subscription.

This earns a massive amount of respect from me. Many MMOs charge subscriptions while they're new, raking in some easy money while they've got hype. I think GW2 could've done that. That ArenaNet chose not to is laudable.

Money Store

GW2 does, I'm sure, rake in extra money from expansion packs and cosmetics. The former is very understandable. The latter can be dangerous in greedy hands.

You can buy a lot of tat with real money in GW2, it's true. It's even had a version of loot boxes from day one.

Thankfully the real-money stuff is largely cosmetic or convenience. I have bought a few items, but I do not feel a second-class citizen for not buying more. Indeed, I roll my eyes at the bizarre characters decked out in effulgent tat. If they want to support the game I enjoy to look like rejects from a bad anime, more power to them. I rather more a normal appearance, and there's plenty of options to get that by playing, not paying.

Exhibits A through D: Effulgent Tat

Maybe I'm a sentimental idiot, but GW2's soft-sell approach has made me sympathetic. When GW2 developers were laid off due to a "financial squeeze" I went and bought some gems. I feel they deserve it. Not like other companies who lay off staff when money abounds, just so they can cut costs.

You will see adverts for money-store items here and there, such as the login screen. But, crucially, it never interrupts your game with teasing messages along the lines of "if you buy XYZ, you can skip this".

There's also the daily log-in rewards and the character birthday rewards. These give a nice mix of the cheaper money-store conveniences and also grant access to things you can't even buy.

Explorable

Something that struck me very early about GW2 was the extent you can just wander around to level.

Progress by Wanderlust

See an interesting land-mark? Go wander over, you'll probably run into some quests. Cross paths with an event? Join right on in and help out. Harvest resources as you go. Kill monsters off the beaten track for extra experience.

There are other things to find to reward exploration. Mini-dungeons, mini-bosses, chests of loot, and even just really pretty locations. It feels really good when you say "what's over there?" and you actually discover something that's totally supplemental but also totally interesting.

One of the earlier off-the-beaten-track finds I made. A bandit's cabbage farm. Handy if you're into cooking.

Early on, I loved wandering to level. It made the grind of levelling feel more like exploration, like I was playing Morrowind or Skyrim, rather than an MMO.

Even now, years on, there are zones I haven't explored. I took the direct path through Living World Season 4's zones, and now I'm contently going back and exploring them top to tail. Nowadays I don't wander quite so randomly. I use the map markers to guide me, but I still have plenty of "what's that?" or "what's over there?" moments. I'm still finding stuff.

NPC Chatter

NPCs across Tyria talk to each other. A lot. It's all fully voice-acted and often interesting or funny as well.

I am still surprised when I stop somewhere quite isolated to clean out my inventory or fiddle with my traits and some NPCs strike up a conversation. It must be very tempting to cut costs by not having the random Inquest NPC in corridor A chat about his research with the other Inquest NPC.

A small thing, but it does make exploring that little bit more rewarding.

Not a great example for funny-factor, but a good example for isolation. To see these two hostile Inquest NPCs you'd first have to opt to do the Living World chapter their zone is in, then decide to explore beyond the story there, then happen down this particular corridor, and finally not kill them before they had a chance to talk.

Events and Meta Events

Events and meta events impressed me greatly as I discovered GW2.

Little Adventures

Early on, I was exploring Harathi Hinterlands, and I come across an event where Seraph NPCs (good guys) are defending against Centaur NPCs (bad guys). I help, the Seraph win. And then one of them announces they're moving on to their next objective.

I follow. Things escalate. About an hour later, we (NPCs, other players, and myself) have pushed into the Centaur base and are taking down their leader.

It made the world feel alive. Here was this war that was happening whether I was there or not. If I chose to pitch in rather than walk by, I would be treated to a little adventure: combat, loot, and a little story.

A limited-time event had players pursuing and then killing ley-energy people. I felt bad for the poor bastards, being chased by dozens of loot-crazed players. Not bad enough to not join in, though...

Putting the First M in MMO

Events are a reason for players to work together, in scales big and small.

On the small scale, it's always a relief to see some new players jump in and help you with a Champion when you're tackling it alone or in a small party. The shoe feels good on the other foot: it's fun to play the hero and jump in to help some scrappy players beat a champion they were struggling with.

On the big scale, maps like The Silverwastes and Dragon's Stand are dedicated to meta events. Groups of players must spontaneously split down multiple paths to achieve objectives in limited time. I've seen these fail often enough to know success isn't guaranteed.

Play with Friends

Despite the acronym, it's not easy to play with friends in every MMO. Here's a hypothetical exchange:

"Hey, you want to play that MMO?"

"Sure! It's more fun to play with friends."

"Okay! I'm on the Black Mountains server."

"Oh. I'm on the Dusty Gorge server."

"That's alright. I'll make a character on Dusty Gorge."

"Great! Where shall we meet?"

"Well I'm only level 1 on this server, so it will have to be a starter zone."

"Oh. The lowest character I have is level 20. So... I'll just one-shot everything, and I'll get no XP and useless loot."

"Ah. Well... I guess I'll get to level 20 and let you know? So, we can probably play in a week or so?"

"...Okay."

These problems do not happen in GW2 with the megaserver system and dynamic level adjustment.

When the game came out a group of friends and I quested through several zones together. This is us in the charr starting area.

(I don't want to pretend dynamic level adjustment is perfect. Because if you take your Ascended-item max-level elite-specialised hero to a starter PvE zone you are going to be more powerful than a new level 1 character. Not quite to the point of absurdness, but not far from it either.)

Any barrier that makes it hard to play with friends in an MMO is idiotic. I am very glad GW2 started with low barriers, and only made them lower over time.

A Better Grind

There's grinding in GW2. How could there not be, in a modern MMO?

I have seen people in GW2 doing what I consider painful, repetitive grinding. Armies running laps in the Edge of the Mists. Heroes repeatedly doing Fractals. Massive groups teleporting from one world boss to another on a clockwork schedule.

If people want to do that, more power to them. None of that is necessary, though. It's for bragging rights or as a faster alternative to levelling.

Look at the relative stats for item rarity. For a fresh level 80 character Rare equipment is trivial to get, and Exotic is very doable. This equipment is not that far behind the very best. Certainly the gap is much, much less than most other MMOs. And it doesn't go obsolete over time as new content is added... mostly.

Mounts are more than just a "go faster" convenience in GW2. They complement the exploration side of the game, with each able to run, jump, or glide differently. They have weight and inertia and are fun to drive. The optional, later-game mounts require some grinding to get; thankfully they are account-wide unlocks.

Is there any grinding required to just experience the game? The answer is "yes", but I think GW2 has taken the harsh edges off it.

If you enjoy grinding, is it really grinding? GW2 lets you enjoy grinding in two ways:

No Repetition

Get something once, and you don't have to do it again. That's good, because something only becomes repetitive if you have to do it more than once!

Very many things are account-bound. Progress can be made on any character. And once you unlock it, you have it on all characters.

Even something like levelling, which is not account-bound, doesn't have to be repeated. Level-boosting items are handed out as you play or as birthday gifts. All free; not paid-for. And handed out generously: I have enough to get about a half-dozen characters to maximum level. Even if you don't have quite as many as I do they will still speed up the levelling process.

Grinding by Playing

Many things you grind for can be earned doing a variety of things in a variety of places. This has the happy side-effect of making grinding goals come with just playing.

Suppose a friend newly joins GW2, and I'm tempted to join them in the low-level non-expansion zone. I won't be "wasting time" as I'll be earning masteries, gold and other currencies and crafting materials.

Photo-bombed by a hunter pet. Look at that smug expression on its face...

Combat Mechanics

GW2 combat feels pretty satisfying and fluid to me. I don't want to hold GW2's combat up as exemplary, because it isn't. Other MMOs do similar things; in many cases better.

But I like GW2 combat well enough. Here's why:

Movement. Many attacks can be avoided by moving away. In any half-way hectic combat you're constantly on the move, either to avoid enemy attacks or to better position your own. Having a dedicated dodge move adds to the experience.

Action Camera. Not everyone likes the action camera, but I love it. I can control the game like a shooter, not like some modded real-time strategy game.

Elegant Rules. Over time, MMO rules systems often turn into incomprehensible messses that no-one understands. Or they start out that way. GW2's rules are pretty complicated but it keeps things mostly comprehensible with a kind-of status-effect middleware that relies on common effects like boons and conditions. The programmer in me finds it quite genius and, frankly, elegant.

Weak Holy Trinity

In GW2 the healer, DPS, tank divide is de-emphasised. Every class does a little of each.

Yes, you can emphasise one over another, and if you're doing difficult content you probably should. But no class is defined by their trinity-role. You want to be a tanky thief? Do it!

Healing is especially unique. In old-school MMOs, healing is just "reverse damage". You hit me for 20 damage? I'll heal me for 20 damage. In GW2 it's a bit more nuanced, usually revolving around regeneration or other slower effects. Someone chucking out healing skills is a life-saver (literally) not because they're un-doing chunks of damage but because they're increasing survivability.

Amateur Theorycrafting

When I was levelling up my thief I found she struggled with survivability. I paused to re-consider my tactics. I decided on a condition damage approach, and picked weapons and skills that would make my enemies bleed. Caltrops, shrapnel bombs, and double daggers!

It worked! The thief was still fragile, but she could stack enough bleeds to kill most things, even many things at once. The caltrops helped: tougher bad-guys would limp in pursuit, bleeding to death.

My post-hoc re-enactment of that bleed build.

Apparently it wasn't an optimal choice: theorycrafters would pick other configurations. That's unavoidable. There is always a meta in any game made by mortals.

Yet I was pleased I had "figured it out" on my own, just by playing and experimenting. I didn't need an internet guide to survive. And even if it wasn't the best choice, it still worked well enough.

Having done the same on a few classes since then I feel GW2 is a game where you can tinker and customise and come up with things that work.

My current warrior setup tries to be tanky in a few ways; one of which is by combining For Great Justice with Might Makes Right. I doubt it's a "top meta" build but it seems to work well enough.

Rotationless

I hate rotations in MMOs. I get they're inevitable to some extent, but I loathe MMOs that embrace and build upon it as if it's a positive thing.

Well, let me back away from that a mote. I hate it when they do that and it's not opt-in. If people want to do it for some unique style or to get a few extra percentage points of damage, I don't mind.

I don't want to think about internal timers and priorities when I play. Those things are artificial. I want to think about the actual goings-on in combat. I want use Hundred Blades because I've moved into a position where I can strike mulitiple foes; not because a I've randomly proced a buff that enables or enhances it.

This is why Berserker Warrior is my favourite class in GW2. I can play it in a brain-dead way. The "auto attack" skill, plus one or two others, is all I need in a stand-up slugfest. Everything else is to respond to a situation: to move, to heal, to break, to push.

There are classes and specialisations in GW2 that do require something of a rotation. That's fine. I won't play 'em but I've no problem if others want to!

PvP and End-Game

I've not done much PvP stuff or fractals or raids. So I can't talk much about that. I wish I had tried these things, but such are the laments of a casual player with limited time.

I really love GW2's approach to remove gear and level restrictions in all PvP. It's great you can buy the game, log in, and play PvP or WvW on a mostly level playing field.

I also love the concept of World vs World. Both as a mode of competition and the way it allows for a variety of activities like soldiering, skirmishing, scouting, siege-engining and supply-hauling. You can even just potter around the WvW zone doing vistas or harvesting resources if you want to.

Some people will complain GW2 doesn't have enough end-game. They're probably right, in a sense: there are better MMOs out there for their needs. As a casual player, I'm largely happy with the balance GW2 had decided to strike.

A World to Escape To

Tyria is a welcoming fantasy world. Like a digital Narnia or Neverland it is a place to escape to. It's comforting to be there.

Of course escapism is part of many works of fiction. On the other hand, it's not something every work of fiction ought do.

If you're going to do escapism, do it well. GW2, I think, does it well.

Scenic

Tyria is a beautiful place. It was in Guild Wars 1. It still is.

The designers have a real knack for displaying awesome, yet realistic, environments. There are stunning settings in all manner of environments. Just look at the screenshots I’ve peppered about.

They especially do nature well. Some of the forests, with dappled lighting and weather effects, are gorgeous.

This isn't just a matter of graphics, or even art. It's a sense of moderation: it's knowing that if everything is epic, nothing is.

They know they rock the scenery. Why else would they make pretty views a big part of the game?

Race Realism

MMOs often have a problem where non-human races are... well... quite human. Sometimes in very silly ways.

Not so GW2. I love the charr. A "cat people" race that aren't humans with cat-ears and a tail. The charr are inhuman yet have animal traits that are familiar, from the loping all-fours run to the always-sniffing nose. They're well designed.

Charr posture though... All that weight bearing down on feet that don't have the benefit of heels? An awkwardly forward centre of gravity? They've got to be sore by the end of the day.

Pretty much all the races are done well, including monster bad-guy ones. There's a lot of detail put into GW2 creatures and it's a shame in a way that the nature of the game means we rarely get to see them up close and detailed.

Arguably GW2's weakest race, aesthetically, may be the humans, who all look like stock photography models.

After doing so well with the charr, I don't know what possessed them to give Rox ridiculously huge kitty-cat eyes.

Empowering

Thinking logically, Tyria really isn't a nice place. There are all sorts of problems, from local bandits to world-ending dragons.

Throw that logic out the window. What matters more than how many problems there are is how empowered you, I, or anyone is to solve these problems.

There's no problem in GW2 that can't be fixed. Bandits can be beaten up. Dragons can be defeated. Even racism can be fixed. (Yes, often violence is the only option, but that's action RPGs for you.)

There's a spirit of co-operation and capability that runs through GW2. You are not so much the mighty hero coming to save the helpless peasants. Rather you're mucking in with people already hard at work trying to fix things, be they grub-squashing farmers or dragon-killing soldiers. You just happen to be the tipping point they needed. Even in the story, when you're promoted to grand poobah, you're a pretty collaborative boss, tending to work with your comrades.

In GW2 hope trumps hopelessness. It's escapism. It's nice.

Story

GW2 has a number of stories you can embark on.

I have mixed feelings about GW2's story. Like most MMO stories, it isn't that great. I wouldn't suggest you get a bag of popcorn and watch all the cutscenes on YouTube.

But as far as MMO stories go, it's probably better than most. It certainly has its ups and downs. Yet in those better moments it can be quite enthralling. Living World Season 4 -- the most recent story section at the time of writing -- kept me interested and even tugged a little at my heart-strings.

Like a soap opera, the GW2 story makes up in quantity what it lacks in quality. Over time -- years and years, remember -- you get to know and love the world and the characters. And it's doubly engaging because you are one of the characters.

Characters

The best thing about GW2's story are the characters, especially in later content. Characters who are essentially RPG tropes are given personality by competent writing and voice acting. Canach's dry sense of humour always amused me, as did Taimi's energetic voice acting.

This is a well-calculated expenditure of effort. Good characters can make talking heads engaging. Bad characters can't be saved even by multi-million dollar effects budgets.

A cool little scene at the end of the Personal Story has your character striding alongside the members of Destiny's Edge.

War and Isolation

Many people don't like Orr, the final zone in the base game. I do.

As per the story, it's a warzone. And you can see it. It's like the D-Day landings over there. Scouts, transports, war machines; everywhere you go the Pact are battling the undead. There are no heart quests there, just dynamic events; and I think that reflects the epic goings-on quite well.

Likewise, a zone like Mount Maelstrom is meant to be a wild place far from civilisation. And it feels like it. There are people (someone's got to give quests) but they're either explorers, exiles, or strange native creatures.

These may seem like rather pedestrian observations. I bring them up because many MMOs get this stuff wrong. Epic war zones have maybe a few dozen NPCs battling but otherwise seem unaffected. Far-flung regions have just as many towns as the heart of civilisation.

Getting this stuff right provides a sense of place, and of progress (level-wise and story-wise).

Living World

I enjoy GW2's Living World episodic content. From a story and setting perspective it gives the world a sense of history and progression.

From a gameplay perspective it adds new content... and often a lot of content. Whole new zones are added. I have especially enjoyed Season 4's zones, which feel as richly developed as the normal zones.

Style and Polish

People often talk about Blizzard games in terms of polish (even Blizzard do). I feel GW2 has a certain level of similar polish. (Whether that's still true for Blizzard games is another matter.)

The art style is gorgeous and consistently applied from the grand stuff like character creation screens and loading art, right down to little touches on the UI. This consistency isn't exactly a key selling point but it does speak to a certain craftsmanship.

When you jump in the water, the lower part of your HUD gets "splashed" with drops in GW2's signature "inkbrush style". It's part of the transition animation from land to water skills. A tiny touch that is illustrative of GW2's attention to detail and consistency in style.

Wiki

Similar quality can be seen in the official GW2 Wiki which is informative, tidy and (as far as I've seen) complete. It's good to be able to look with confidence at a definitive source rather than look over a handful of fan MMOs trying to sort fact from speculation.

Conclusion

So... I like Guild Wars 2.

It's been the perfect MMO for a casual player like me. It respects my wallet. It respects my time. It offers variety, solid gameplay, and a comforting world to visit. It seems to have been made with real love.

Thank you to the people who made it. You should take pride in the countless hours of entertainment and joy you've given to me and so many other players across the world.

If you've stumbled across this and are thinking of playing, know that GW2 can be played for free. Why not give it a go?

#guild wars 2 #gaming #mmo #review

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