Triple the pain in triple the time - Pistols at Dawn Chapter 13

Going off what I said the last time with Les using extra large font to make her page count higher, I don't think it ever occurred to her that it is taking her forever to establish a point. At Chapter 13, we are clocking in at 127,000 words, which is more than enough to get to a climax. Since Les promised she was going to rewrite Unity and 'do a better job', I would've expected more of the actual plot. I am still not seeing any of it. 

In the previous chapter, half of it was dedicated to that dumb capture the flag plot that nearly ended in Arno and the Baguette Boy Band getting massacred in a Church, and the second half involving Elysia getting hot and bothered by the mysterious demon boy who's going to fuck her in the end.

Even feminists dream about getting a good dicking. But enough of that. Time to cover this chapter before the new one is posted at the beginning of June.

 She would try to teach him, but it would only end up with him playfully smashing the white teeth of the instrument, and pretend he was the world’s greatest piano player. And she would laugh, tell him he was perhaps the worst performer that ever lived in the century….but they’d still keep playing. Still laugh.

I'm glad that Arno can't even play an instrument properly and is an utter doofus at that. Also, hi Élise. 

Before she left to be the woman she wanted to be.

Which is to say, 'I deliberately excluded this other redhead because she got in the way of my Mary Sue.' Talk about respecting female characters!

“Father wants me to learn all I can. You understand, right Arno?”

Why did she need to go to school if they had so much knowledge in the manor? 

Look, I get what Les is trying to do here. She's trying to introduce conflict so Arno already hates or misunderstands Élise so it'll be better for him to jump into a gay relationship. His misunderstanding of why she needs to be educated is also a deliberate distortion on Les's part: it was expected of highborn ladies to go to specialized schools to further their education. It would be unwise for Arno to disparage Élise for it because most people - let alone women - couldn't afford to go to school let alone dream of it. He, too, also had to be tutored and educated. 

“I’ll be back for the holidays, I promise.”

Why did she keep making promises she couldn’t keep?

Arno knew Élise would be away for months. Besides, he was busy with his own schooling and training. They were already starting to drift apart when her mother, Julie, was dying of tuberculosis. I don't get this 'well this woman clearly can't keep promises, therefore she doesn't love me and is a bitch' excuse aside from the fact Les is using it to prop up Arno's eventual switch to the other team. In order to make a man go gay, you have to make the female love interest appear to be the biggest bitch in the West.

“You’ll understand one day, Arno. Why things are the way they’re supposed to be.”

Would have saved them a lot of trouble if she had just revealed she was a Templar in….whatever this mess was.

 Alone.

Élise, in this iteration, doesn't confront Arno after he escapes from the Bastille. Instead, Arno runs into Elysia, who berates him and tells him outright he has no place among the Assassins and she better not see him again. Élise is also written as Arno's 'sister', and there has been zero mention of her in the previous 127,000 words. Here Les is trying to rewrite Unity and she cannot even give the titular female character a bigger role - she leaves that to her abominable Mary Sue.

Chances are, Arno already knows at this time Élise is a Templar. If he doesn't, 1. He's slow and 2. this is bad story telling. But you don't need me to repeat it ad infinitum. 

He was left mostly to himself, as the servant and housekeeper of de la Serre’s manor where the elder maids made him tend to the laundry and dish cleaning-

“A young man like you has to be put to work, or what else are you good for??”

I saw this iteration of Arno in Mirror and Image's 'Assassins Creed Unity Rewrite', where he was described as 'psychologically non functioning' and was completely clueless about the world around him. It does not shock me to see this used again. All Arno is written as is a dumb, unthinking housekeeper and never the intelligent, witty man who was educated and loved learning about the world. Yes, he helped with the manor. Had Les paid attention to the game, Arno's sass with Olivier shows that he wasn't a total pushover and was a bit of a slacker when he wanted to be. Frankly, I'm tired of these shitty descriptions of him. They don't even touch on his character at all. Again, this is all to prop up Elysia.

Where he tended to the garden, the mustangs, and the silverware (and their tedious placements on the dinner table). Where he would drown himself in the disposable literature the library and studies offered him: about the arts, the importance of their existence, the immense work it took to make one color-

“A young man like you has to get his hands dirty; none of this reading!”

 Oh, so now Arno loves reading and likes to be educated. What's all this about 'none of this reading'? If you were of the upper class, being educated was required, especially since you needed that literacy to manage accounts and estates. Literacy was not as low in Paris at this time as people usually think; around 63-65% of women could read and it was around the same, if not higher (maybe 75% or so) for men. Les fails on history again, and she also fails in keeping Arno in character. He wasn't allowed to be educated and had to do menial work and that's why he's such a bitch boy. Too bad I never saw this in the previous chapters.

The way a blade was made, the years it took to craft it to perfection from tip to handle despite him never wielding ever in his life; submerged his wisdom in poems and songs that he would hum a tune when he was on his own. Many distractions, but not enough to stop him from wondering-

“A young man like you has to stop asking questions and just do what he’s told.”

 Yup, this is Mirror and Image all over again: 'You need to stop asking questions/you need to think/stop thinking/you're not smart enough to think/you can't do anything' yadda yadda. You mean to tell me that despite living at the de la Serre estate, he never learned how to sword fight at all even though he was clearly capable of it while sparring with Bellec and Hugo and Victor beforehand? He's literally carrying a sword, Les. Learning swordplay was required for noblemen at the time. First, Arno wasn't 'allowed' to be educated or to think for himself, and now he 'never learned' how to swordfight.

God, this keeps getting so fucking stupid.

From asking. From demanding the answers he wanted to the most impossible questions of his life.

The many letters he wrote to his father that would never be read, but how Elise had encouraged it in an attempt to make himself feel better. To make him forgive the past, to move on past it because-

“That’s what your father would’ve wanted, Arno”.

Arno was told to write those letters because of M. de la Serre, not Élise. Élise never knew about those letters - and she certainly wouldn't have known about the ones he wrote during his stay at the Bastille. Remember that? Such a distant memory.

And yet here they were, separated. Because she couldn’t take her own advice on exactly that. It was such a simple life back then.

I'm led to believe Élise is written as a total bitch here for no reason aside from making Arno fall into the hands of one or all of the Baguette Boy Band. She always wrote to Arno - did Les even remember the game and all the letters Arno kept from her? Does she remember the one Élise wrote about Arno not harbouring hatred for her even though she is a Templar, and how it would 'break her heart' if he saw her that way? No, I guess not. 

But then again…nothing was ever simple since then.

 The stunning lack of self awareness. 

Precursor Box? What was that? And…something about a Templar?

Arno has been with the Assassins for...how long now? And Bellec never bothered to tell him about the symbols on the wall he saw in the Bastille? Sense, Les. Try to keep it. 

“That was hilarious. We should tease Elysia more,” Arno sounded off with a grin, pushing aside the memories. His father’s eyes. Elise’s smile. De la Serre’s lifeless corpse. He hit his hands clean from the pastry handed to them by sweet Charlotte from earlier.

Why, so she can try to kill you again for back-talking her? She's told you over and over again how much she hates you because you're a Fucking White Male. You get in the way of her dreams and aspirations and the only way she'll ever feel complete is by destroying you entirely. For an added bonus, Arno doesn't even own the Café here. He just works as a menial slave.

"Do you think she likes us as students? Like it’s not just her job, but actually likes us?"

 If you have to ask, chances are she's not really your friend or worth seeing as something to look up to.

“What did Clement say? Don’t leave me hanging,” Stephen pouted. Arno chuckled lightly, but did so. This made the brunette’s eyes widen.

 You know what would help? Actually learning French. This is not modern-day France where some of them actually know a few words here and there. This is 18th century France which views the English as the worst goddamn people on Earth. It'd be an insult to speak it - unless you're a lawyer. Maybe Stephen should stop acting like an American in requiring everyone else to speak English for him. 

BTW, his name wouldn't be Stephen. The French variant would be 'Etienne'. Research, Les. Research.

"Hey," Stephen’s playful tone shifted to seriousness, waving his hand once to catch Clement's eyes. "You're doing wonderfully, Clement. I know Elysia sees that, because I see it. I know I'm technically your guys' assistance in teamwork, but as a Master of my old Brotherhood, I'm proud of us. You know Elysia by now; if she didn't like us, she'd tell us. Help us improve in what she doesn't like, to help us be better people."

Arno smiled at this.

 This Sometimes I wonder if Les even believes the shit she is writing half of the time. Elysia clearly, and it has been stated repeatedly, that she does not like Arno. Hates him, actually. Why else would she try to kill him in front of her own employees at the Café, all because he told her she was wrong? 

There is no improvement here. Just a massive downgrade. If you have to tear down established canon characters to prop up your shitty original one, no amount of making her seem like the rational being will help. Elysia would never tell anyone she liked them or was proud of them, because it isn't in her repertoire. How do I know this? Her character is stamped on me like a burning brand. Even I know this is bullshit. These guys need to stop fooling themselves into thinking she even cares a lick about them.

"Stephen's right, things could be much worse if she didn’t," James translated it all back over, Clement easing in his position with a soft smile. James settled his hands on his knees, gazing up to the sunset sky, "I think it’s fair to assess that Elysia enjoys teaching us. Wouldn’t you want to help someone who wants to get where they want? To achieve what they desire the most?”

Elysia was perfectly willing not to tell you guys you walked into a trap and was willing to get you guys get steamrolled. She only conveniently rescued you because it 'made her feel bad'. If that. 

Also, isn't James admitting they're being used so Elysia can get what she wants, versus what the Brotherhood ones? Nice Freudian slip.

“I think, in her own way, she's shaping us to who we want to be one day. I wonder….if we do the same for her.”

Oh, you mean the same person who stole grain from the poor so she could enrich her boyfriend, repeatedly called Arno a 'useless boy' who can't do anything right, and - I'll keep saying this - tried to kill him for the crime of saying she was wrong? Hoo boy, she is definitely someone you should look up to! 

“Today is my last day with your team, before I go to Bellac tomorrow.”

 Oh, thank God. 

"Ah yes, you'll be spending a few more days with him from what I heard Elysia mention. A part of their agreement and all for the extra help you've lent us." James recalled with a rub of his scruff chin, "Already missing us? I can't imagine Stephen has already gotten into your head."

“Stephen is just…..very sure of himself. It’s difficult to deal with…but I also admire it in a way,” Arno admitted with a small nod. “He oddly reminds me of Bellac; Elysia really does some sort of magic whenever she confronts both of them.”

 Yes, because a Mary Sue who has no place in this lore or canon can 'work magic' by her powerful, enigmatic presence. By the way, Arno should be the one who is 'sure of himself', because he was a cocky little shit before he became a serious, if not slightly smug, Assassin. Stephen, the guy who can't even speak French and who is very likely a time traveler, manages to take that role. I don't expect anything less.

"I think she just has a way with words." James agreed, scoffing once before sharing a glance to the Dorian again. "Putting aside differences to work together for a common cause is necessary. Elysia merely knows where to meet one another's overzealous boundaries. In saying that, that doesn't mean Elysia doesn't have a few of her own that everyone has to accept."

 This is a great example of an author patting herself on the back for an achievement she didn't earn. To add context, she is writing Elysia as a fair, cool and serious woman who isn't afraid to put differences aside to get the goal she wants when the reality is just the opposite. I can simply sludge through previous chapters to see her belittle Arno at every step of the way, steal grain for her boyfriend, and oh, try to kill him because he told her she was driving her own business - that she had no idea was going under because she couldn't look at the books - into the ground. If anyone is overzealous, irrational and full of hate, it's her. It does no one any good to deliberately lie about a character when the text you wrote beforehand already established who they are and what they think. Did Les forget what she wrote? 

Is 'you better remember what the Creed is boy' and 'I'm going to murder you' a way with words?

“I figured,” Arno recalled with a nervous smile, rubbing his neck briefly. “Either way, I’m enjoying both mentors, though I admit it’s less fun when its just me having to hear about Bellac’s past stories of his military days.”

 Oh I bet Arno enjoys this immensely. 

"Does he really dredge that up?" James probed with a slouched shoulder, "Does he start it off with ‘when I was your age, I was doing ten times the work you're doing now’? Something of the sort?"

“Oh yeah. Like he can’t wait to tell me I have it easy and that I should be grateful for everything I have now,” he sighed, resting his chin in his hand and shaking his head. “Bless Elysia for never doing that.”

 ...Do I really need to bring up the previous chapters? Do I really need to stress how Arno is treated like utter garbage from this bitch? Don't even try to rationalize it when the text clearly says otherwise. Let's go back to Chapter 8. Elysia constantly wails about how no one knows 'the pain' of training Arno and how he is an 'easily offended gremlin'. James and the rest say openly how he can't do his Assassin job very well, and how they need to 'bail him out'. 

Elysia talks about how Arno's 'lionized presence' in the chambers annoyed her, and how she viewed it as an anvil on her life once she discovered she was going to be co-Mentor to him. It's amazing how I remember more about this bitch than her own damn creator. 

Later, Arno talks to James about Sivert and how he magically didn't know anything about him or the Templars in general and how he plans to get answers. James expresses concern and tells him it's not the best idea, and says the following: 

“….I have to know the truth, James. Elise deserves to know the truth…” his throat burned at this, but he shook it off, adamant to his core. “You have to understand…in some way.”

".....Perhaps, god willing if I try to assess it....but know your bond to others, Arno. One way or another, they could be affected by the choices you make. I tell myself that all the time to try and keep myself out of trouble.” James rubbed at his neck again, this time more roughly, “My fiancé would never forgive me if I don't come home. I can only imagine your sister might feel the same if something were to happen to you too."

 Élise isn't Arno's sister, enough with the creep factor, please. Also, what 'bond'? None of these guys gave a shit about him at least three chapters ago, and the alleged bonding which would've paved over their differences took place over a hamfisted capture the flag plot. BTW, note how James openly admits he's engaged to another man even though being an open homosexual wasn't allowed yet despite homosexuality being decriminalized in 1791. 

A glimmer of crimson. Shaped like crescent moons, awakened in the deep depths of obscurity. Plagued.

 I'll admit, this is pretty cool. Would make a nice poem.

One hand, gentle and kind, while the other cracked the very glass that dared to sheathe it away from my mind. The purple reminded me of the flowers in the fields, and the red was the blood they seeped when they all dropped to the ground, lifeless with one mere look from me. Only one was here, but neither could live without the other.

There are no goddesses here. Only Mary Sues. Also, dream sequence cliché.

My heart was racing. I couldn’t breathe, the same way I was always breathless around him-

 Gotta love it how the strong feminists is cowed by a good dick. 

I dressed simple, a clean blouse with my chest bind underneath it. The hood was loose over my head, and I debated with the freed curls when I caught sight of the red scarf set over my chair. It was still slightly damp; they must be doing laundry despite how early it was.

Here's another issue more people don't realize when writing female characters in the past: chest binding isn't good for you. This has come out more with young women binding their breasts so they can appear 'male': binding your breasts can permanently damage your rib cage, deform them and even rot your breasts because of lack of blood supply. It becomes difficult to exercise or take breaths. Even if Elysia is immortal, she is not immune to pain. If she has big ole' titties, she needs a modified corset to keep them in place, not breast binds. 

And another reason why Les doesn't know history: laundry women were out at all times of the morning doing laundry and you could hear them slap clothes on the riverbank from far away. Helps to know.

But the dream had managed to slip through my guarding distractions. Mild interruptions got on my nerves, and I did my absolute best not to linger on the protruding thoughts.

 Try interruptions in general. Everyone gets on your nerves. 

I got to work, scribbling and scratching away words and sentences. My brain chugged to make the language cohesive in writing, and crossed out words I somehow repeated without knowing, or I misspelled…

“You’re cute when you’re not grouchy.”

It was frustrating. All of this was frustrating.

 I've said this before, and I'll say it again: it will never stop being funny when women who complain about patriarchy, racism, rape culture or toxic masculinity turn around and get hot and bothered when that 'toxic male' shows interest in them. They're not into wimps. They like guys who'll fuck them long and hard in the sheets. Les herself says she is lesbian, but with all the focus on gay white men I think she has a thing for sexy Frenchmen. Don't be afraid to say it, Les. Some of them are delicious, Arno included. 

Of not being able to….decipher any of that. Of trying to figure out…what it meant despite how simple that sentence alone was. Running it through my head again and again countless times; unsure if I had heard the right tone, the right words, if I was unconsciously lying to myself or if Orfeo was trying to make a fool out of me in some way I was unprepared for. If he was tricking me. The reason why Orfeo would even dare say it in the first place.

It's obvious what is going on here. You have a crush. Now, under normal circumstances and were Elysia an actual, decently written character I'd find this wordplay kinda cute. Since she's not, this is just fucking hilarious. 

And how one simple gesture invited so much memory I didn’t want.

I lived freely and without a thought of him; for the past couple of years I was free of the burden, but now that this…THIS…it was a problem.

The more I could hear his voice in the hundreds that took refuge in my mind.

 You can live freely? Imagine that. The woman with murder on her mind most of the day is afraid of her pussy getting wet. The shock of it all.

I hated it so much.

 Join the fucking club.

Was I that clueless?

No….was it possible I was simply reading this all wrong?

 Yes. And yes. 

"Well it's a good thing you're partially responsible for things here. I don't have to go that far." Orfeo strutted a bit to the side, pulling a seat from another table. My eyes glided up his arm, and there I saw the muscle of his tan, scarred limb tighten from his hard grip.

Mmmmmmm.

QUIET.

 You can't see it right now, but I'm honestly getting watery eyed at this. This is entertaining. Holy hell. Les has no fucking clue of the complete FUBAR she's crafting here, and I love every minute of it. Maybe this is worth the horrible Arno characterization! 

He squinted, "....I'm not the one that looks ready to strangle someone."

My eyes rolled, “Your point?”

"....Are you mad at me?" he questioned a moment after. The back of my neck flared.

  That's just Elysia's everyday look, my dude. You're still getting her pussy wet.

My god, he was stubborn.

I SIGHED, standing up and trying not to punch my fist straight through the wooden table itself, “It’s like you try to find ways to push my goddamn buttons.”

 You know a character is annoyed when you need to CAPITALIZE them sighing.

My lips pressed, “Very funny.” I picked up the clay cup, almost digging into the solid sediment itself with my very-sharp nails. I shifted my focus to the counter where a pitcher of brewed coffee had been pre-made, and poured myself a new cup. I felt Orfeo’s eyes follow me, but I dared not to turn to see where exactly he was looking.

Because you know where he’s looking.

No, shut up-ugh, why was I internally arguing with myself???

I must be out of my mind to even think he….I had to be wrong. About all this.

 OMG like, shut up stupid inner erotic thoughts! I totally don't want to jump on his dick or nothing! It's not like I'm so upset over Link moving on and having kids and not choosing me! 

Oh, shut up. Go and buy a jade dildo. They existed back then. 

“You’re so chaotic; you can’t leave anyone in peace,” I placed the cup on the table, staring at him with scrunched brows. “……..What are you up to, Orfeo. Why are you so stubborn on sticking around?”

 This is rich coming from a character whose very existence is throwing everyone's lives into chaos. The lack of self awareness. 

“Uh—no reason.” Fuck. “I’m just…letting you know. Because you need that reminder.”

"....Because I need that reminder, is that right?" His voice was low, "I'm only a simple baker, what's the most I can possibly do? Hmm, Ms. Assassin?"

I scoffed, an annoyed smile plastering on my face. “And who was the one who helped Ms. Assassin take all the grains for his shop?”

Glad we're admitting that Elysia, a virtuous Assassin who helps people in need, stole grain the government collected to redistribute to the poor in order to help her boyfriend-not-boyfriend's shop, and how shitty she is as an Assassin and as a person. And it all came from a guy who made her pussy wet. 

He lowered his head right to my ear, the hood doing nothing to prevent it from burning, "After your lot left, I left France to go to the Caribbean and I became a privateer.”

 During the race riots and British control of the area? Big money if you know how to play. But it'd take months, if not a year, to go back and forth between these locations. They didn't have planes or fast travel then, remember. 

His lips were rough. Flaming as they moved impatiently, like he had been famished of any physical contact. The table behind me held me steady, my once firm feet sliding beneath me like ice encasing the ground. The gravity of the world jerked, and suddenly Orfeo’s arm was around me, locking me against him. The hood fell back and my liberated curls sprouted along my neck and upper back with a burst. My arm sprung, and my nails dug onto his sleeve, dragging down enough that the rolled up fabric at his elbow was gone, and all that was left to touch was his bare forearm. And it burned underneath my grip.

I was touching him when I wanted nothing but to strangle him the past couple of months.

A testament to a sin that stroked the flames.

Welcome to your run-of-the-fill women's erotic fiction, everyone. Too bad it's bogged down by this shitty plot and awful, inconsistent characterizations. Despite all the bad things Orfeo has done, Elysia still can't resist his dick. Nice how that stereotype is 100% accurate in every instance it's used. 

“Sure.” I curled my head down, ignoring his watch and the soft slurp of his coffee. He was humming in question, but it was swiftly interrupted from the sound of approaching footsteps. For a moment the hairs on my neck rose, but when the padding of feet softened beside Mathias, I realized it wasn’t the immortal.

 Pocketwatches were used at this time, not wristwatches. Empress Josephine had one given to her in 1806, and Elizabeth I is said to have one, but they were not in widespread use. Women used wristwatches when available, while men had pocket watches. 

Research helps.

"If I recall correctly, you had suggested that I should give you a personal evaluation of Arno once our first trial mission was accomplished." James reminded, sitting down and across. Ugh...how did I even forget that-oh god, what if he had walked in during….

"Of course." I nodded, pushing aside the documents and hidden embarrassment, fixing my cowl a bit. I straightened up in my seat, nodding to James to continue, "What's your…assessment?"

"I believe there is room for him to improve as an Assassin. He had me quite worried at first when Stephen and he clashed over Bellac. I thought he'd allow his emotions to potentially jeopardize the mission.”

 Oh for fuck's sake. Arno cannot learn anything from Bellec, can he? He's just too emotional, too irrational, and is generally a bitch boy. He can't think for himself, he can't fight, he can't do anything related to being an Assassin. Despite the earlier half of the chapter involving these guys telling Arno Elysia isn't all that bad, they turn right around and say how useless he is. The guy complaining about Arno letting his emotions interfere with the mission happens to be gay married and is concerned about that being brought up. 

Fuck right off. 

“Despite his headstrong personality, I've noticed Arno tends to have dips in his confidence and when he does, he'll look upon others for some sort of validation in his actions. Aside from that, he takes charge and the necessary risks when needed. It’s clear he can assess a battle quickly to come up with a plan and act upon it, though he's a bit slow to act upon with others. There is some hope...he worked well with Clement, perhaps that’s a good place to start getting him familiar with before he moves onto Stephen and I."

 I'm getting 'AC Unity Rewrite' PTSD again. People have a hard time separating Arno's sensitivity and good heart from his Assassin nature. In this case, Arno cannot separate it at all. He is weak willed, stupid, unthinking and relies on others for validation and seeks out a safe space. He is 'slow' to think up a plan, which means he is 'slow' in the mental department. I might have to take back what I said earlier: despite Elysia's romance being the saving grace of this chapter, Arno's continued character destruction is a horrible sight to see. 

"There is...one other thing I noticed." James worked his fingers along his wrist, massaging it in deep circles, "I think it’s clear Arno's dedicated to finding the truth to de la Serre's murder, but I think it'll lead to a deep...obsession."

“I don’t think that’s left to secrecy,” I reminded, and rolled my eyes, “and Mirabeau hasn’t exactly...put some sort of limit to that. That is one of the reasons why he was allowed to join the Creed. I try to repress that memory, honestly.”

 'Why he was allowed'. Ho hum. Nothing to do with his legacy, his skill or intelligence. It all relies on your approval. What was that about Elysia genuinely liking her recruits and teaching them what was right and good and holy?  

I shrugged a shoulder, “You mentioned he was…very traditional.”

"Something like that,” James scoffed, leaning back in his seat. “Traditional in the sense that he can only complain that the youth are the problem with the world and all. Should've seen his red face when I left for London; honestly I thought he'd curse my very soul."

“I’d imagine he tried to throw every reasoning he could think of to prevent you from leaving. Telling you that ‘you weren’t ready’, ‘you don’t know how the world works’, ‘you’re unprepared’. ‘You’re selfish in your endeavors, you won’t understand it until you’re older’. Did I get it all?”

This is definitely Les talking about Millennial struggles here. During this time, a man going off into the world to seek new opportunities and jobs wouldn't be shamed. Hell, James' uncle should be glad. His nephew is accomplished and has a new set of skills he can bring to the French workforce. He is not destitute and keeps up a good work ethic. What's not to like? When you add modern sensibilities to it, with the Boomer vs Millennial talk, it ruins the authenticity of the work. Most people didn't even think their kids would make it to adulthood during this time, especially with famines, failed crops, and mass inflation. Modern Americans are enduring this as we speak - an art student with shitty tumblr art and socialist policies would do better to understand what people thought about during this time versus what you think they did.

"Heh, thank you, Elysia. Truly, I'll...try and commit it to memory." James smiled lightly, "Sorry I carried the conversation a bit away, I should have asked if you had any notes for what we should do for Arno in the future."

“Maybe hanging him up on a coat hanger and never getting him down would be a good start,” I noted, rubbing my forehead.

I think it's time for Stephen and James to eat their words on Elysia being a fair mentor who 'only wants the best for them'. 

Fuck you, give me a break.

My position on this whole story. 

 "What I'm saying is you're the one that has changed Elysia; it's up to you to decide on who fits in the slots that you want to be filled in life. To keep or to hold in hand, as friends or love; life is this strange thing we shouldn't take for granted...it can give us the worst of pains and the greatest of joys....it all depends on how we react to it."

You cannot change someone who refuses to change, and has not changed throughout the course of the story. Elysia being kind to James for no reason aside from him being a favourite doesn't make her look good - it simply shows favouritism. She clearly cannot take his advice or her own advice because she views everyone as her enemy, not as a friend. Look at how she treats Arno despite him clearly needing a Mentor and someone to guide him. Look at how she reacted when he told her she was at fault for the cafe going under. 

Les and her co-authors have a profoundly short memory. It does them no good to excuse bad characterization with poor lampshading. 

“I don't know...I always assumed you've had everything together. You always knew what to do during intense operations and never yielded under harsh encounters. Yet, now that you actually have been lowering your guard...I'm not sure how you've managed to do everything for so long the emotional strain of it all."

Assumptions can be deadly. Reminder that this same character had no idea who Shay Cormac was, led her recruits into a near deadly rap, and had no idea about the Colonial Brotherhood almost being eradicated. That is not a sign of 'knowing what to do', that's a sign of not knowing shit. 

“She adores him; she made me bring him coffee once,” I rolled my eyes.

“Isn’t it because this is a café?”

My hard stare centered at him, wrath swarming my face for two seconds.

James swiftly held up his hands defensively, leaning back in his seat, “I’m wrong, you’re right. I apologize wholeheartedly—“

I hope these fuckers eat their words on Elysia being a kind, smart woman who always knows what to do and only wants the best for them. Here is a prime example of how she snaps when people 'disrespect' her. 

“Whose side are you on??”

“Obviously the side where you are RIGHT.”

“So help me, the Dorian is rubbing off on you.”

Never tell a coloured woman she's wrong, she might just loot and rob your store. Or kill you. 

Beylier wasn’t always a patient man.

He knew the cards he was dealt with at a young age, when his mother chided him for speaking his mind whenever he dared cross paths with the younger, lighter boys that were his age. When he stood up for himself, for her, for his friends. It was almost surely a losing battle from the start, from the second he opposed their oppressions. When he dared breathe the same air they did, when he dared to live a peaceful existence and they deemed it too wicked to bear.

I knew the race card would be used, so let's play it. First, as stated before, Les grossly overestimates how many black people there were in France at this time. She - and by extension her OC, Elysia - didn't even know who Dumas was. Second, she is ignorant in how these racial relations often played out. In the Caribbean, they evolved into race riots with the whites and mulattoes getting massacred. I do not need to bring about the situation regarding Haiti. Slavery was illegal in France, not so much in the French colonies. But we need to remember that whites only got access to slaves in the first place because of African warlords selling them - to which other blacks will say this was a kind form of indentured servitude. Best part is, Elysia, the 'Gypsy' woman, doesn't even like him. So, uh, black lives matter?

“That’s how the world works, my boy.”

“I don’t accept this; just because it is the world doesn’t mean it’s right!”

Don't tell him about the Bantu expansion and how they massacred the Khoi-san. Don't tell him slavery is and was still acceptable in Africa. 

He fought tooth and nail for his dignity, and educated himself to the highest degree he could muster. He got older, but the world got crueler. What he was so oblivious to before was a constant reminder every day and every night that his standing as a black man would never be equal to that of a white man if you simply use intellectual words to defend yourself.

Take it from the South African example: no matter how tolerant you want to be, no matter how anti-racist you say you are, you'll never change the basic fact that blacks and whites were never made to mix. The Founding Fathers knew this. So did Lincoln. Beylier would do better trying to convince those looters, rioters and robbers during Hurricane Katrina or any other race-related riots that all it takes is to be nice. Les is obviously taking real world inspiration here, and as a Latina she already hates whites with a passion. That's why all the white men in this fic are treated so horribly - well, aside from the gay ones. 

He lost so many things, no matter how much kindness or empathy he casted. Beylier knew he was powerless against the hundreds of conditioned minds of a racist-structuralized civilization on his own, and nothing would change overnight. People like that didn’t disappear out of thin air; they hid and bred their dehumanizing ideologies in and out of plain sight. In the shops, at parties, in the administration halls of cities, in the courts and in homes.

The wins would never outrank the losses this way.

Ah...here's that critical race theory she picked up in college: no one can be racist to white people, and coloured people are always oppressed thanks to systemic racism. Newsflash: France was made by ethnic white people. Not blacks, browns or Asians. Deal with it. You had the option to leave once you gained your freedom; you could've made your home in Africa. During colonization schools were built, you were educated, and you had a functional civilization. Afterwards, it's still the white mans fault that he didn't give everything for free. Take a nice look at Haiti. Its next door neighbour, the Dominican Republic, has brown people and they have a better civilization. What is the difference? Both were enslaved and oppressed and got their freedom. One still bitches about white colonization and slavery. The others are proud they are independent. What is the difference? 

Bellac was a strange man, and admittedly, Beylier didn’t exchange much with him when they first met. He kept mostly to himself, and whatever was exchanged were snarky remarks geared to people who seem to annoy him the most. However, he was a clever and strategic; Beylier revered his motivation and desire to better himself and his students. It didn’t take long for him to be a Master of his own when the time came, and truly that’s when Beylier was comfortable enough to call their alliance a friendship.

He's a Fucking White Male, who cares about what he thinks? 

Then….Mirabeau, and Quemar.

Something about them….didn’t sit well with Beylier….

It's because Quemar is a Jew, isn't it? Oy vey, don't be an anti-Semite. 

"Shay Cormac is a dangerous adversary, I understand. He's a feared predator but he is without resources here in France. The Templars will not side with him, not after what he did to Charles. He threatened their very Order with his charge, leaving as quickly as he came. I am upmost positive many who have survived today will do well to avoid even associating with him."

OK, Les, you are not making the Mentorship any smarter than they were in-game. There is no way in Hell they would not take Shay Cormac seriously. M. de la Serre is dead and cannot reason with him and Elise is in no position to speak to him at all. I guess all of them forgot the Purge. Holy shit where is Bellec when you need him?

“How can you be so sure of that? There are many variables we haven’t taken into account, the possibility of him somehow maneuvering around those difficulties, of him being able to provide his own resources-“ Beylier huffed out, “-do not throw away everything we worked for to chance, Mirabeau. If there’s anything I ask of you, is this: hold off on any movements on Shay Patrick Cormac, until we’re more equipped, further briefed on his intentions.”

They are only treating Beylier as unreasonable because he's black. That's it. Even though he is 100% right and they all need to take Shay seriously. Mirabeau would be a fool not to. The French Templars are in shambles, and all it would take is for one Irishman to come in and fuck up the Assassins because they are too concerned with the Revolution. Jesus Christ, use logic. 

This chapter has a lot to digest, and it can be cut up into three parts: Arno's internal dialogue, Elysia's struggle with her crush, and Beylier's struggle with racism. Let's address Arno first. Les, and by extension Elysia, has made it clear she has zero respect for him or his character. He is written as a blundering, unlikable idiot who doesn't like to read and isn't cut out for things like swordplay - even though it was required for sons/male relatives of nobles - who isn't cut out to be an Assassin and needs validation and a safe space. His relationship with Élise is written as one of limited boundaries, attachment issues, and belittlement. They share no letters together and she isn't even mentioned half the time. 

His assessment by Elysia is a 'who gives a fuck?' decision. James - who is engaged to a woman, not a man, because Les doesn't realize fiancé for women involves an extra 'e' - Stephen (the guy who can't speak French in France), and the other guy all regard Arno as a bitch boy who can't do anything useful. To add salt to the wound, they all say Elysia really does care about them and how glad they are she's opening up. Contrast this to James' personal talk with her, and how easily she snapped at him for talking back, even in jest. If I could make them eat their words, I would. It's obvious Les doesn't even believe half the things she writes, because she simply doesn't remember what she wrote. She tries to write Elysia as a strong willed, analytic person who is just a hard ass but really cares about those around her, but the reality comes out in her own dialogue and internal monologues: she really, really doesn't like anyone but herself. She simply isn't a good person. She's unlikable from head to toe. But if you get her pussy wet -

- hoo boy. I gotta say, her interactions with Orfeo, the hot younger brother, are something to read. The Mary Sue who hates men, who is a sexist and hates everyone around her for even saying she's wrong, cannot resist a guy who has a big dick. I have to bring up the feminist thing again: most of these blue-haired feminists hate white men, complain about patriarchy and rape culture, they will turn around and write about how much they love those hunky, sexy white guys. It doesn't show her depth as a character, but it sure does show how a man who doesn't take her shit turns her on. Mary Sues are only so strong until the cock they want gets in the picture. 

Finally, the Beylier thing. Les, as a Latina woman, values race. Race for her figures prominently in her Twitter feed: she is concerned about 'Latinx' issues, sticks her neck out for fellow Latina artists, and votes for her tribe's interests. So it wasn't surprising to read how strongly she feels abot black issues and - dare I say - how much black lives matter. However, she interprets the past with that critical race eye: Beylier is the victim of institutional racism, a trait that has not gone away in the white, Western world. To atone, said white nations must accept as much diversity as possible and white people need to learn about their privilege. 

Like most PeeOhCees or white liberals, she doesn't seem to understand that the idealized history she dreams of won't be achieved in reality. Slavery was common in Africa - any, it was a fact of life - before the white man stepped foot there. Whites did not venture into the African interior because of the parasite and disease load, as well as its dangerous climate. They would buy slaves from African warlords on the coast. What is never mentioned is the Islamic/Arab slave trade, in which blacks were castrated before being sold as menial servants. The slavery in either context is written as mere 'indentured servitude' with the promise of freedom. Only whites being slave masters was wrong. 

The race card being pulled here is written exceptionally poor. It was a problem, but Les isn't treating it in historical context. Most of France's white population were near the poverty line or living at subsistence levels. Owning a slave or even a black page was inconceivable. Their lives don't matter, though; that's why Orfeo and Elysia can steal grain from them. Making a modern political statement, though, Les just can't resist. 

There's a reason why Les and by extension Elysia hate Arno/other white males in this story: he's a  Fucking White Male, he is oppressing her, and he shouldn't be allowed to exist. They oppress PeeOhCees and they need to talk about their privilege. 

And what better way to do that than write about an all white gay orgy and a PeeOhCee brown woman who also hates the token black guy? Time to put on those woke goggles, the race card track just opened up. This is going to get way worse - soon we'll be entering Hurricane Katrina loot levels. 

As funny as Elysia's faux romance is, Les's characterization of Arno gives me bad memories. Never a good thing when I remember more of your story than you do. Three hours and 30+ chapters later, and I get a mix of Arno trashing, race baiting, and feminist dicking. 

Boy, when the gay orgy gets here...I'm going to need a lot more whisky.