Comments are back in the month of Pain - Pistols at Dawn Chapter 16

 This month, there will be two (or possibly more) updates for Pistols at Dawn. The author has stated she intends to pump out extra chapters because she will be away for September, so this behemoth fic edges a little closer to the halfway point while still retaining everything that has made it horrible from the get-go. However, there's something new this month: Les has finally removed the 'moderate comments' feature. This is what she had to say:

New chapter already, what's going on this time, champ.

So. Heading out next month and I won't be available during a good chunk of it, and thought to take this out. There's a chance the next chapter might be out before I leave, or it'll be ready when I come back (which is around the end of September).

Also: Comments are back, but only registered users on AO3. The moderation of comments was only directed to the crazy anon from before, because he literally stalked me around all my other platforms and took the harassment to a new level. Which, by the way, you should know how to behave on the internet. I ain't your mom, man.

'He literally stalked me'. No, it wasn't stalking so much as it was authorial inquiries, from one to another. Les wasn't aware that the Eiffel Tower wasn't build until 1889, not 1789, and did not like being reminded of that. I am sure that when the time comes again and I leave another comment on her works for the absolute clusterfuck she has created, as wore as the 'Lore Down Pat' she has butched, the comments will be moderated again. With these authors, no amount of 'niceness' will ever convince them they're in the wrong. I have found it's better to be a bitch openly and see where it takes me.

In any case, we're up to 153,000 + words. We saw the death of NPC James in an epic 'death' scene that left a lung shot with an entire dialogue, and Elysia resuming her role of blaming Arno for everything. 

Let's not waste any more time.

Bring me a dream. 

No, thanks. I've already seen what these dreams are capable of.

The dress was absent; my bloodied sleeves were rolled up to my elbows. The maroon cracks set themselves like the bark of a tree on my knees and down my legs. I faintly looked over, seeing another arm linked with mine; the man unaffected by how the fresh blood rubbed against his ornamented blouse. Afraid to lose me.

Elysia always has these flashbacks in the beginning of every chapter. They are meant to show how 'deep' she is, and are windows into her past life in Hyrule. The problem is, I can't be bothered to care for her at all, nor can I be bothered to give a damn about her past relationships. The inconsistency she has with being the token proud feminist who hates men until they give her what she wants sexually has thrown me off since the beginning. Given everything she has done, and will continue to do, these internal monologues don't add dimensions to Elysia's character. It just sounds like a hammered in Kingdom Hearts plot. 

Tell me that my lonesome nights are over.

The woman afraid of 'lonesome nights' didn't seem to have an issue throwing her staff out on the street for a business she deliberately destroyed. Reminder the Café was the reconnaissance centre of the Brotherhood and she was about to shatter the main source of Assassin intelligence. Why should I care if she's 'lonely' when she's willing to do that? 

 “You’re fit for this.”

I shook my head, “I’m not.”

“You’ve dealt with worse.”

“…..Nothing like this.”

He reached, and he squeezed my hand, “We die with honor.”

You want to know how James died? Because Elysia didn't know jack shit about Shay. No one in the Parisian Brotherhood took him seriously despite knowing he was there for weeks. You'd think the Mary Sue would just run over and break his neck like a chicken, but no. James took the lung shot in order to save Elysia, and Elysia uses his death in order to...excuse her own failings. 

Obviously, this is supposed to show all the guilt she's retained over the centuries, but it only comes out as the ramblings of a woman who doesn't care about honour or respect. I will repeat this: she was ready and willing to kill Arno in front of other people all because he told her she was wrong. James died because Elysia did not tell him or Arno about Shay and the threat he poses to the Assassins. Had she actually acted like a mentor, that NPC would still be here.

I’m so alone.

“I’m tired of people dying by my hands. In MY hands. I don’t want THIS anymore.” My whisper tore and flamed my throat, “And it happened.”

He smiled sadly, “You can’t control everything, Elysia.”

An ugly reminder. A constant reminder.

“I know.”

You're 'tired'. Really? You're tired. Let's recap what Les has written so far: Elysia, despite being a member of the Brotherhood for centuries, and being a part of the Parisian Brotherhood for an unspecified amount of time, never once picked up a book and read the history of the Order she is currently occupying. When asked about the Purge in Colonial America, she responds with a blank face. She had no idea who Shay was, despite Shay's exploits becoming infamous among Assassins all around the world. She has no idea who or what the Templars are in France. 

She was also willing to allow recruits to die in a botched Church mission. She also tried to murder a recruit for telling her she was killing the business she was hired to watch over. She routinely insults, and even harasses, other Mentors. She gives off the air she needs no one's help and anyone who tells her she is wrong deserves to die. With these monologues, am I supposed to feel anything towards her? The answer is no. I don't give a shit, and there is nothing Les can do or say that will make me think Elysia is a solid character. The fact she is overriding Arno and even Élise tells me everything.

Turn your magic beam

Hope it's not a 'peaceful strobe light.' 

Instead, all their bodies laid around my feet. Everyone.

Bo, Lorenza, Renado, Vitalia, Charlotte, Beylier, Ilia, Rose, Ezio-

I'm guessing these are characters from the previous installation. Again, I am not bothered by their deaths at all, because Elysia's wailing that she's 'not built for this' is belied by what she says, does, and acts in the real world. She's no hero. She's not even good enough to be labelled an anti-hero.  

Bring me a dream.

Hope it doesn't include whatever this is.  

My eyes stung from the sleepless night; the coffee cup empty now. The sound of unconcentrated footsteps vibrated from the hallways of the manor. I kept my eyes down, the quill mindlessly swaying in my grasp as if I were writing.

Weren't you just dreaming? Was that entire monologue just a dream sequence? Ho hum. 

“Morning, Elysia.” It was Mathias, dressed in a dark, green shirt that was tucked in his light pants. His slippers brushed against the large rug of the floor, and the chair creaked when he took a seat at my side. We watched Charlotte silently, and it wasn’t long until she gathered her cup, avoided our gaze and removed herself from view. The creak of the footsteps ascended until the door of Charlotte’s bedroom clicked closed.

Charlotte in this fic isn't the calm, collected woman she is in the game. In this iteration she's like a squealing anime mom who just discovered a rare pudding in the fridge. She adores Elysia more than necessary, and seems to have forgotten how Elysia almost made her lose her job. 

If people are refusing to look at Elysia because they hold her responsible for James' death, good. Technically, by refusing to tell her recruits about Shay Cormac (and not even knowing who he was) she put them at risk. James died for her and her response is to want everyone to stop staring at her.  

“I can’t speed up grief,” I replied, laying the quill down. “What do you expect me to do?”

It’s not your responsibility.

Technically? It is your responsibility. You are a Mentor. Act like one. Any Assassin death at your hands is entirely on you, and since you allowed them to walk right into Shay's trap these unnecessary deaths are on you. Dozens more died trying to take on Shay, and still you refused to consider him a threat. 

This 'Do you expect me to do something?' attitude when her internal monologues show another side isn't the conflicted character Les thinks she is. It's just bad writing.

"I don't expect anything from you." Mathias drudged his fingers against his temple, threatening to carve indents in, "It's Charlotte's constant great depression of spirit I worry for. It’s as if she cannot will herself to see beyond the sorrow at hand. It's...a sensitive matter, I understand, but...we have to move on at some point."

No, don't expect anything from this Mary Sue aside from bad characterization, shitty plots, and butchery of canon characters. Germain, the titular villain, wasn't even given the time of day. I don't even want to know what Les will do to Élise - who has yet to show up, by the way. 

You know what you did.

This lampshading isn't helping, Les.  

“I’m…not exactly the right person for that,” I answered, immediately earning his hard look. “You’re living here now, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am, but this…..” he paused. “….You know how she felt about James.”

“….I can’t bring him back,” I swallowed my pain.

What are you the right person for? You can't handle grief, you can't handle other people, and you definitely can't handle responsibility as a Mentor of the Assassin Brotherhood. Just what exactly are you for, aside from an author's wet dream?

James died because you didn't tell him or Arno about Shay. You saw dozens of corpses from his work, and you did nothing. Quite sure that if you did that in Ezio's time, he'd execute you.  

Once we went underground did the feeling disperse, but a newfound dread clambered along the middle of my back. We caught eye of Mirabeau down the pathway, and for a moment I thought he was speaking to some sort of rock formation on the wall or someone behind a pillar…until the tall silhouette moved.

I should also like to point out Mirabeau also knew Shay was in the city and said nothing. Definitely something that would cause actual drama, but Les doesn't know how to write convincing political plots or stay close to history. Twitter threads by AOC don't count.  

Easily standing at about seven-feet-high, the visitor had shoulder-length hair, strands of white and gray intertwined at different sections. It was kept in a low tie to touch his upper back. His face had probably been handsome once; high cheekbones and a square jawline covered in ash threads. Wrinkles trekked along his forehead, or what was visible of it behind the few locks that escaped to hang in front.

Seven feet tall isn't a joke; this guy is Andre the Giant's size. Gigantism isn't fun to have, because you normally have reduced IQ. Anyways, all of these side characters smack of anime characters to me. I really expect them to start donning JoJo hair-dos and talk about their stands.  

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Haul." Beylier replied, and held his hand out. Bernard simply raised his hand in a polite wave, and Beylier retracted his gesture in understanding. "I would like to offer you and your family our deepest and most sincere condolences. We have worked collectively with James for the past couple of years as if he was a part of our own family. He showed much promise, especially under the tutelage of his Mentor: Elysia. Everything he has achieved here in Paris has had much impact on many people's lives. We are proud to have known him, and I can only hope our prayers ease you through this difficult time."

There is something else that needs to be said (among many things): but because of the secrecy of the Brotherhood, unless family members are directly involved, you cannot tell anyone about your dealings with the Brotherhood. One of its main tenets is to never compromise it, yet here James had an uncle who is not an Assassin or ally being brought to the secret Hideout. 'Lore Down Pat' for sure.  

"I see." A deep, gravel sigh expelled out. If Mirabeau hadn't had his hands tucked behind his camp, it would've been easy to expose the jolt that ran along his shoulders. Bernard scanned their faces before stopping upon mine, indelibly lingering. "He's hardly spoken word of his endeavors here, unsurprisingly, but that is no one's fault but his own. I thank you for your kind words on behalf of my nephew. His mother...will certainly take those prayers to heart."

You want to know why that is? Because you are not supposed to tell others you are an Assassin unless they are connected to the Brotherhood. You can't go around telling people you're part of a murder cult. They won't believe you, and if by some chance they do, they are going to tell others about it and you just delivered yourself into Templar plans. It's a ridiculous strategy.  

I tried, “…If there’s anything we can do, rest assured we will do our best to provide you with what you need. He had an apartment here; you are more than welcomed to take what you need from there.”

He didn’t look away, "....I plan to. There are old heirlooms that...would be tragic if they were lost in the wrong hands."

Instead of inviting Andre the Giant here, you should have delivered James' personal belongings yourself. Inviting strangers into an Assassin hideout is the dumbest thing you can do. Apparently, this rewrite doesn't include basic logic.  

I reached the end of the aisle, where the bodies of Masters would lay for cremation: James, the one and only who died with a such a title. The statues of previous Masters enormous and towering around the ending apse in a half-moon shape; one statue I tried very hard to ignore…. but how he loomed above us, his stone eyes burning through my head and somehow managed to unsheathed every defensive layer I built.

Then he must've really sucked as a Master Assassin, especially since he didn't know much about Assassin history either or asked Bellec who Shay Cormac was. His death was entirely preventable, but this story is going with it because we need the death of a random character to add some humanity to a Mary Sue and make Arno feel bad. 

Also, what defenses? You didn't show pity to Arno's father. You more or less told me to get the fuck over it. How am I to believe you're such a pitiful, caring person now? 

He must have known I hated coming in here.

How long have you been a member of the Parisian Brotherhood? You will see death in your lifetime. You also knew dozens more had been killed in botched missions and you never attended their funerals. You only 'hate' coming there because it reminds you James the NPC died because of you. 

Here, I saw them: Clement and Stephen beside one another, standing alongside Sophie and her team and respectively standing with their hands folded in front of them. The shadows of their faces darkening their expressions away. Across the way, hidden in shadow was Arno standing idly by with the unhooded Bellac, his face down and his drooping hood emphasizing that. Bellac, however, remained with his head high, and exchanging a small nod to me.

I wonder how Bellec feels right now. He is a person who actually witnessed Shay's purges first hand, and despite knowing him for years, never asked him who Shay was or the threat he poses. Whenever Bellec had anything to say, Elysia shot him down and basically treated him as if he was a useless peon. 

If Arno blames himself for James' death, he shouldn't. Elysia, his mentor, didn't tell him Shay killed his father or even tried to issue a warning. She basically put those two in that position. Naturally, I expect her to unleash the beast on Arno and tell him, once again, how pathetic and dumb he is. 

“Brothers and sisters. Kin to the Creed,” he paused. He straightened up, “Our mortality reminds us much of every day; the sun when we wake up, the way the birds sing; when we hug our loved ones, when we fight every battle that dares to cut us down, to the time we close our eyes and rest. The world is full of many challenges, each of us facing a battle we may or may not be aware of.”

This also includes: 'Don't even tell your recruits that the guy who single-handedly purged the Colonial Assassins is in your city, killed dozens of your brothers and sisters as easily as a reaper through wheat, have a Woman of Colour Mentor who doesn't know who he is, and invite unaffiliated family members into our secret hideout so they can mourn the deaths of loved ones that absolutely will not be used against us.'

Lore Down Pat.

The sniffles and soft sighs filled the chamber, and I felt James’ uncle shift beside me. Immense from everyone else. A reminder. An ugly reminder-

It’s not your responsibility.

Again, it is your responsibility. These are your recruits, your people. You need to lead as an example. It really does say something when a token Woman of Colour, who entered the Creed not based on merit but as a special minority, happens to be one that acts as a schism within the Creed and refuses to accept that her own actions caused the deaths of those who looked up to her. If that's not an example of how diversity in fiction usually leads to racial stereotypes, I don't know what is. The best part is that Les has no idea what she just did.

“Although that may be….we are all connected in the Brotherhood; no brother or sister is left alone. We are family, and every lost Assassin, every lost soul in this room did not leave without us, nor do they leave us. We stand together, always and forever….alive and in death. They watch us, and they will watch us until we too join them. This is not the end….but it is a rebirth, a new beginning. It is only fair we continue to carry on, to make sure their sacrifices and efforts were not in vain, and we each fulfill our role and live our lives….just as they could have.” 

Unless...you have a Mentor who doesn't know who Shay Cormac is; who willingly sets you up for a Church massacre, and is ready to kill you when you say she's wrong. All of these assassins died because this Brotherhood wanted to play with a forest fire. This is definitely not a re-write, but a downgrade, because everyone is acting dumber than they should.  

I held out the candle, my steps loud in my ears until I finally came to his side. The color of his face had completely left, but his hair shined still, as if it had been brushed mere minutes ago. He appeared peaceful, with his hands on his stomach and his head straight on the stone bed. A small smile still lingered.

Uh, yeah. It's a corpse. Elysia would've seen hundreds of them. Rigor mortis is a helluva thing.

I rested the candle to the side, and worked to remove the belt and hung pouches. Gently, did I remove the effects; tying it back up to the third hole as he had it, and slung it over my shoulder. Next, I cradled his arm, making sure the other stayed on his front. I turned his cold arm and unstrapped the ties to his Phantom Blade where his hidden blade slept. Once detached, I repositioned his arms and held his concealed weapon.

 Why didn't they remove his equipment before they put him in the tomb? Quite sure all those firecrackers on his belt, once they meet heat, is not going to be the sight you want to see at a funeral. 

I could hear Mirabeau’s voice praying voice in the distance, along with the other voices of the neighboring clusters of mourners….but I just didn’t know what to say to mine.

It’s not your responsibility.

I am not sure how many times Les wants to write this to hammer home a point, but it's not working for me. It is 100% Elysia's responsibility, as she is a Mentor and a respected member of the Brotherhood. James' death is her fault, and there's no convincing me otherwise. 

Beylier cleared his throat, the light of the candle illuminating the side of his face orange from how near it was, “…..As I’m sure you all know….James was a good man. He was always there to lend a hand, whenever he saw someone in need. Including me.” He smiled lightly at this, “We were lucky to have him, and in turn, he was lucky to have a team who cared about him just as much. Even then, his personality captivated us all, whether we had known him for years, or even for a second.”

He still died because the Mary Sue didn't tell him Shay Cormac was in Paris. Glad to see he's getting proper character development...during a eulogy. 

“I can…agree to that,” Sophie earned the floor as she stepped forward to further add, “James was unlike any Assassin I have met. A young man of many talents; we were honored to have him around, both in partnering missions and in the Creed itself. From my team to yours, Master Elysia….we will miss him just as much.”

I won't, because I already forgot who he was. Two, you are literally praising a woman who had a hand in killing him 😆

Beylier looked to me.

“…Merci,” I answered. I inhaled and closed my eyes, “……We will miss James. No amount of words….can express our loss. We thank each and everyone one of you standing with us, with him….”

 'It's not my responsibility. Oh, by the way, watch me claim to be sad at the funeral of a Master Assassin who died because he nor I knew who Shay Cormac was.'

"There are hundreds to millions of people on this Earth...but none could compare to James's kindness and wit..." Clement frowned deeply, bowing his head down, "Merci...for everything you've done without even an ounce of thanks. You'd sooner push it to the side, graciously accepting it as a personal duty then out of what is expected of you. It's shaped who I am... who we are as individuals...." He stopped from going further, stepping back in line with Stephen.

22-24 million people in France alone at this time. Most of which are at subsistence level, and people whom Elysia robs from so her boyfriend can have his business. Great woman! Also, isn't Stephen English? He should know how many people are in England. There were hundreds of millions of people in the world at that time. One billion people is an estimate.

“Kid had spunk,” Bellac replied next, his arms relaxed at his sides, despite the way his fist clenched when he took a breath next, “If there’s anything I learned from James is that you can’t stop change from happening. Despite the odds that he was facing from trying to resettle a foothold in London for our Creed, he never once stopped believing it was possible. We should follow in his example to work from the ground up, because without it, the change we want won’t be possible without commitment.”

Why didn't Stephen do it? He's actually English - and who doesn't speak a lick of French - and he hasn't done anything to help his native Brotherhood. That doesn't sound very logical to me. 

Following in 'his example' means ignoring a major threat, acting the hero, and having a monologue while being lung shot. I ain't following that guy out of the trenches.  

Mirabeau arrived, and bowed his head to address James, “He was an exceptional student, and a Master in the end. Despite my reluctances from the beginning….James proved to be the Assassin we all aspired to be. And to be frank, Elysia-“ he held my shoulder at this, “-he couldn’t have been in better hands, than yours.”

And what a terrible fate he met.

I swallowed.

Didn't think it was going to be this bad. Of course, there are still the gay sex scenes with Arno which will appear, but this is coming to be a real close second. 

Imagine, if you will, writing a death scene for a character that is supposed to be impactful, but whom the audience hasn't a clue as to who he is or what he wants. Character development after a death can work - if you know what you're doing. But this was clearly done to show Elysia as losing control and how 'broken' she is. 

'Better hands' includes a Mentor who had no idea who Shay Cormac was, refused to tell a Master Assassin to be who he was, and warn him about his tactics and skills. His death was preventable. This shitty eulogy scene is not. 

“James Haul, will forever be a part of our family, as we are a part of his. It is our hope that we all can come together, to honor his name and legacy, and carry that with us for as long as we shall live. Mr. Haul,” Mirabeau addressed his uncle next, who in turn almost scrutinized us from one mere look alone, “If you have some words you would like to share….”

If he is not connected to the Brotherhood in some way, he should not be in their secret hideout, family or not. That is begging for a Templar raid. The whole point of the Brotherhood is to operate under people's noses; for people to last expect the merchant, the opera singer, or the milliner murders people for hire.  This defeats that purpose.

"My thoughts are to my own, as his life before is entirely different from the reality you know today." He resonated, resting his palms in front of him, "I will not sully nor disrespect the kindness you see in him. He was a young man of many things, and I will not discredit to what exactly he is."

 Exactly who? Why did you wait until he was dead to go into his life? It would certainly make his death stand out.

The flame that would snuff out the remaining Light that saw good in me. That saw me more than I was.

Like...? You don't have any humanity or care at all. No matter how hard the author wants to hamfist this, the textual evidence doesn't match up. That is what makes the difference.  

A friend.

James was…..my friend.

And he died.

He died in my arms.

And I couldn’t do anything to help him.

Was he? Didn't see much evidence for this aside from a few conversations. There wasn't enough time given to him - most of this 153,000 + word fic has been spent on nothing at all. You could've developed him in a third of that length, but no. 

Yes, he died in your arms. He died for you, and because of you. I don't feel pity at all for a mistake that could have been avoided. It is your responsibility, after all.  

Why couldn’t this be….a dream. A really bad dream.

I'm wondering that, too. Story of my life reading this.  

A dream I would wake up from. And then James would be there, waking me up on the dining table in Charlotte’s manor, with that stupid fucking goddamn insufferable smile of his-

Oh? I thought he was your 'friend' who was the only one who understood you. Now comes this catty attitude. Do you mourn his death, or not? 

Faces I had seen in passing, those in higher positions and then students. I hadn’t realized how much of an impact James meant to them, almost every single one having met him more than once. Then, they were directed to both Clement and Stephen who were mostly quiet, but respectful of the sudden flood of devoted attention. I kept an eye on them along with Beylier….but a mere turn and I descried Arno who had secluded himself away from the ambush, and against the pillar in a shaded area. Bellac and I met eyes, and I knew what the signal was when he jerked his head to our student’s position.

Funny, because I never saw this impact when he was alive. I didn't see anyone interact with James aside from Elysia and her Squad. He was, quite frankly, a douchebag to Arno all because Arno was more talented than he was. He cheated him and bet against him in the hopes of kicking him out of the Brotherhood. So when I read him being 'respected' by other recruits, there's a thing called 'evidence' that needs to be offered to actually see said impact. Les offered none, because she legitimately doesn't think she needs to.

I am curious to see what they are going to say to Arno. Elysia will no doubt blame him for his death.  

Talking to Arno wasn’t going to be dodged, despite how much Arno himself wanted that. So, I made my way-

I halted, staring at Bernard who had interrupted my path.

OK, maybe Andre the Giant might steal my heart here.  

“….Is there something I can help you with?” I asked.

"You were my nephew's Master, were you not?" He interrogated unexpectedly, eyes challenging mine, "...What sort of malarkey did that boy think he was doing, to openly meddle with things forbidden to him."

What the hell.

Uh oh, the Mary Sue is being confronted with responsibility! Best thing to do is to pick a fight with the man in mourning! 

“James only did what he thought was right, and he remained solidified in it, despite what happened,” I tried to diffuse his hostile chide, because why did this have to happen now.

"I mean you."

The venom in his throat singed the air between us, and his glare held a thousand suns.

Now things are getting juicy. Will Andre here be the token racist? 

My fangs threatened to cut through my gums, “Excuse me?”

Bernard gladly clarified, and pointed at that, "Your kind does not tend to mingle amongst humans, and yet here you stand, disguised and powerless to have even saved my nephew from a preventable death."

The claws clutched and raked against my back, my eyes slightly opened from the sudden and true accusation.

I find it interesting how Andre the Giant, the token racist, knows exactly what Elysia is despite never meeting her and despite the other Mentors not knowing what she is. It's almost as if he has magical powers to see right through her charade. 

I remained calm, “....A bullet that was metallic in color, and I could not touch it. Believe me when I say….I would’ve done everything in my power to save him, Mr. Haul.”

You couldn't touch Shay's bullet...because it was like silver to you? Weird how in this time period, gunpowder and shells were becoming finger and deadlier and Shay used his grenade launcher sniper rifle to shoot through walls. Despite the Brotherhood having access to things like the rope dart, beserker poison and other goodies, Elysia can't touch a bullet because...well, that's poison to her. Why? Guess we'll find out 100,000 words later.

"....Then you are dealing with no ordinary human after all." Bernard regarded with a sharp tone, "That bullet had likely been imbued with silver itself, enough that it'd render your abilities useless. You'd die a human death on the streets if it were you who had taken it."

OK, so she is like a werewolf in that silver is her weakness. 

Does Les know silver was widely used in this time period, found in plates, jewellery, fixtures of walls, dental equipment, doctor's tools, and more? It was even used in paints. That girl would drop dead the minute she entered a paint shop. 

Let's not forget said silver was also melted down and used for money. 

“I would’ve taken his place if I could’ve.”

"If James had been half the man that he had been raised to be, you would have."

My anger rose, “….James deserved better than whatever you gave him.” 

Andre sounds like he actually cared about his nephew, vs the Mary Sue who kindly didn't tell him about Shay Cormac and still called him a son-of-a-bitch for smiling when she didn't like it. This exchange isn't making me hate the uncle at all. In fact, I like him. 

"And he deserved better than being burnt to ashes."

“While that may be…” I stood before the giant, unafraid to crane my neck as I shot him a glare. My pupils sharpened, “All you’ll have for the rest of your pathetic, brittle human life is that memory alone.”

Again, it's interesting that Bernard AKA Andre knows what Elysia is and what her mortal weakness is and is candidly telling her that she is the cause for his nephew's death. He is right. Elysia responds that the memory of his nephew burning is all he'll ever have, because the few times we actually saw James he mentioned his uncle was 'backwards'. What I have to wonder is: what kind of tricks did Andre the Giant have to pull to see that Elysia was a pseudo demi-goddess?

"And unfortunately for such a regretful mouth such as yours, you'll have to live with it." He towered further with a glower, but I remained adamant from his intimidating approach, "His blood will forever be in your hands...and we will not forget that injustice so long as the Hauls exist. May whatever Gods or beliefs you draw in bring you comfort, or smite the very ground you stand in mercy."

Uh, hello? Based department? I'd like to place an order! 

“Unlucky for you, I don’t have any,” I couldn’t resist snarling out. I pulled back the hood, and glared right back at him, “Now get out of my sight, human.”

They're in the Grand Hall. It's got a domed ceiling. There are people around. 

And people  are conveniently deaf for Elysia to admit she isn't human and her weakness is silver. 

Bernard was not one to back down, nor did I expect him to….but he impulsively did. His eyes fleetingly shifting upwards past my head, and the color in his cheeks whitened to snow. Teal irises that paled to that of a sick sea. A tainted lake.

Reminder he's in mourning and he is 100% right to blame you. But since it isn't 'your responsibility', your first impulse is to insult him because he's being the token racist. 

You still aren't making me hate him.  

He shot his bitter stare to me. Then took off.

I targeted his back as he cut through the hall….and of course, our bicker had caught everyone’s attention, glances being exchanged between the two of us. I rubbed my forehead roughly, shaking it once. What scared him off?

Oh, so now it gathers attention. Good to know! 

Wonder why he left? Maybe that 'bad bitch' aura you gave off was a hint. Gotta teach that racist a lesson!

Bellac came beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder, “Hey, what the hell was that about?”

A Mary Sue getting her just dues.  

“Don’t worry about- wait, Arno-“ my head whirled.

Arno was gone.

I sighed, running my hand up my face, “Damn it.”

“Agh…this damn kid,” Bellac huffed, running his digits through his dark, shaggy hair, “Leave him to me.”

No shit Arno left. Maybe if he stuck around he'd learn tossing a silver spoon at Elysia would make her melt into a puddle. 

Naturally, she'll take out her Woman of Colour rage on the Fucking White Male.

“As we…all are,” I added. “I wish to ask a favor, Clement.” He waited. “We need to go to James’ apartment, and I know you two lived in the same complex.”

He looked down at that, hooking his thumb on his belt hoop, "....Of course..."

Why didn't you ask Clement to get James' stuff? Clement is an actual Assassin; James' uncle was not. So he should have authority to collect any personal belongings and bring them back to James' family - if that's even allowed. Once you join the Brotherhood, unless your family is directly involved you are technically dead. If you do have contact with your family, they cannot be aware of your true nature.  

For whatever reason, Based Andre was invited into the secret Assassin hideout and James' stuff was never removed from his body before cremation. Honestly, it'd be hilarious when they cremated him and the fireworks went off. 

The bulkier Assassin strolled inside, stepping over a pipe that cut between the doorway and the rest of the room. It was hardly occupied, a mat in the furthest corner; a makeshift bed with only old books and novels serving as the mattress. Bowls littered the floor, some picking up droplets of water that trickled from the moldy ceiling, and others had traces of fish. Pairs of eyes lifted from awkward places in the room. One was tucked underneath a shelf while the other stretched and hid in the curtains. It hissed as we all entered.

Look, I get you don't have the option to pick what apartment you get, but Jesus Christ. This apartment is not safe to live in. Black mold is dangerous to breathe in, and that 'mattress' would be destroyed by water damage. Hell, the whole thing would be. Now, I get funds are tight, but there's nothing stopping you from doing whatever you can to make the place livable. Getting lung infections from black mold doesn't help the Brotherhood at all. I can't imagine the toxoplasmosis infections from the cats' urine. 

“Take your time,” I replied, feeling somewhat……terrible of his housing situation. There was no way he was sleeping in here. Not like this. “….You were sharing the room with James, weren’t you?”

 James was your 'best friend'. You knew him 'very well'. Yet, you knew nothing about his living conditions. Nice! And there wasn't any option given why James never told you about where he was living. 

Character development after a titular or supposedly titular character is dead, and the impact you say is important never actually happened, undermines what you are trying to say. The evidence does not match up to your argument. It just makes you look dumb and lazy. 

"Sometimes." Clement admitted, rifling through his clothing, "I didn't want to impose him all the time, only when it was a stormy season and the ceiling would be near close to collapsing. Paris hardly has any room; I had looked for weeks to the point of giving up. Even with his help we had come up empty handed until James asked the woman who he had gotten his room from.”

“Hmm…I see.”

Here's another thing I've noticed: Elysia doesn't know anything about Paris' living conditions, despite living there for many years. Les doesn't know - and she hasn't tried - to discover that Paris was a heavily congested and polluted city. People moved there from the countryside for better employment opportunities, and when they found none, became wards of the state. Just stepping outside the city centre, and you would see swarms of people destitute, filthy, polluted rivers, and overflowing grave yards that had to be dug up and the corpses burned so that more room could be made. 

If you want the Lore Down Pat, you need to know French history. Twitter threads do not count. You probably tell many people to 'read a book' or 'get educated', but I'm telling you this now: read an actual fucking book. 

I approached with caution, standing on the opposite side of the bed and scanning his visibly tired face.

"....He was far too young that boy...full of potential..." Bernard sighed lowly, "...and now my sister will have to bury another."

“…That’s unfortunate,” I replied.

"Must be a trivial thing to you...to be numb to these sorts of feelings," Bernard's gaze flickered to me, tightening in displeasure.

“….On the contrary,” I started, “I think I care too much.”

That's not what the textual evidence shows. In the first half of the chapter, Elysia's internal monologues and dream sequences are meant to show the audience she's really a conflicted character. When Andre the Giant confronted her and held her responsible for James' death, she more or less implied he was a bigot and needed to get out of her way. 

If Elysia cared at all, maybe she should've told James about Shay fucking Cormac.

"Hmph, you'd be the first-“ I don’t think he believed me “-A rarity considering I can't quite pin you to anything." He searched the surface of the bed, tucking his hand underneath the pillow and pulled a stone to slip in his pocket again.

I didn’t stop him, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea; I’m better left a mystery than to have any sort of name.”

Did he not confront her in the Grand Hall that he knew she wasn't human, and did she not admit that silver was dangerous for her? No explanation is given as to why he knows or how he knows what Elysia is. So much for that mystery. He pretty much called her out. 

He readily countered, “It's not your decision whether or not it's a good idea. In our society, we make it our means to learn of every unnatural being out there. We do what we can to protect what must be protected..."

“…He got that from you.” My eyes adjusted on the one pillow; I didn’t register picking it up, but it was in my grasp now, and my palm brushed across it. “I used to think it was so annoying; the world seems bleaker without his righteousness in it.”

OK, is Andre related to the Brotherhood or is he some kind of demon hunter like Dean fucking Winchester? I don't know, because it is never explained. 

What righteousness? He had no problem helping Clement and Stephen cheat against Arno in the hopes they'd knock him out of the Brotherhood altogether. He also did not stop Elysia from destroying the Café - Arno had to be the one to tell her that she was wrecking it. 

"His ephemeral righteousness might have been overzealous...considering where it landed him...but it would have ended in a similar way one way or another. He cared too much for people, no matter their background."

“Maybe…. you’re supposed to do that,” I battled against his defiant, biting stare. And how the past threatened to replay again. “You don’t get anywhere in life….if you’re nothing but a machine.”

Not enough character development was actually given to James to show him as this righteous zealot. In fact, there was no textual evidence shown for this characterization. He wasn't a demon hunter, a Bible thumper or something similar. He was just a guy who was going to get married, and who adored Elysia, and who tried to cheat against Arno. All this background on him contradicts everything that was said and written about him while he was alive. 

“You're the same way, Elysia.”

She's exactly like that. That's the funny thing.  

He held his resolute expression, "There is a difference between idealism and relativism. One must learn the way of the world to understand it best to keep moving forward. To be a machine, to be human, even beasts know this pinnacle rule; none of it matters unless you understand the inner mechanisms of society and those that truly rule it."

“…I’m sure he loved you too.” I held his stoic, annoyed expression.

Look Les, I don't know if you read Noam Chomsky or some other post modernist philosopher, or just watched PhilosophyTube, but this take is a really shitty one. Beasts cannot rationalize their own existence; only humans developed that unique trait. Beasts know only instinct and the more intelligent ones know strategic thought. But the complexities of society, or rationalizing it and why it is so, does not exist among them. 

This speech contradicts everything that Les believes herself, because her politic is very Leftist with a racial element: she only wants the best for her people, and her people alone. She doesn't want billionaires to exist; capitalism is a failure and wants socialism while demanding those racist white people pay for the hordes of starving, poor undocumented immigrants and other 'people of colour'. If you told her natural hierarchies exist, and that there's such a thing as IQ and those people are the ones that drive innovation, she'd hear none of it. 

Knowing how the world works means admitting there are millions who do not want to be and cannot be saved, and despite billions if not trillions poured into their education, welfare, and affirmative action, they continue to be net drains on everyone.

But that's racist. 

We continued our search, Bernard unafraid to move the furniture noisily if it proved itself difficult. He had pried open almost every obvious compartment, disrupting the neatly folded shirts and few trousers James had rearranged by color. The only place he hadn’t checked was under the bed….

Thought the apartment was mostly empty and that the floorboards were badly damaged. You'd be ripping up water damaged wood here.  

".....What makes you so different from the others?" Bernard's question came out as a contemptuous whisper, "What is it that enthralled my nephew to assist you, to assist this order? Why.....did he find you worthy of all the dangers that came with it?"

Did we just forget the conversation we you wrote he knew what Elysia was? He openly said he knew she wasn't human, and now he's asking her what's 'so special' about her. 

What's so worthy about Elysia? She's a strong woman of colour, that's what. 

“…If you want me to be honest, that’s something I always asked myself the first day he got here.”

Pretty sure you didn't, because there was no mention of this at all. Aside from the 'I've seen many sunsets' comment. That's it. 

Bernard remained silent, somehow spellbound of my hard look.

“….Until I was with him for the last time.” My shaky lungs held, my fingers holding the sides of the chest, as if it cradled all of the memories. “If what you say is true….James must have known who I was, what I was. Sometimes….when you’re alone, when you’re cast out in a place you know you don’t belong in, naturally do you find someone who understands you. ‘Home isn’t a place, it is people’, as I have learned many, many years ago.”

This has to be one of the best things I've ever read. Elysia has not given a single shit about the French people at all. Do I have to repeat for the umpteenth time about how she stole grain from them to give to her boyfriend, so he can make a profit? Do I need to mention how, despite the years living in France, she knows next to nothing about the culture, people, or even know what the people in the countryside are going through? That she, as a Mentor, knew nothing about the Order's history, and deliberately lied about Shay not only to Arno, but to James and the others. 

If James knew what you were, again, that was never mentioned in the previous chapters. He wasn't given enough character development for this to be hinted at or established.  

"Hmph...to find comfort in the unnatural...so typical of him.” He faced the window. I tended back to the papers at hand, sensing Clement entering the open area of the bedroom and facing Bernard. He looked a bit tense, but he managed to spill out his intentions gently.

Ah, the typical racist. I still don't hate him, though.  

"I think...James would have wanted you to take these." He offered a wooden box to the taller man, filled with small rounded paintings. Bernard took the crate in one arm, the other hand searching through the collection.

Yeah...keeping paintings in those conditions is going to rot them. especially with cat piss and goldfish stinking up the place.  

“What’s that?” Stephen squinted, and tilted his head to look at the chart at an angle.

“James was looking into Mirabeau.” This prompted both men to stare at me, Clement needing no translation for that. The French-man lifted a piece to assess the written notes, and his eyes widened further at our discovery.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised by that,” Stephen revealed with a small scoff, “Always had my doubts on that guy.”

Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure you did. Not as if that was ever mentioned in the earlier chapters - oh wait. It wasn't. 

Yes, it's true Mirabeau was keeping things from the Brotherhood like his correspondences with the King. Yet am I supposed to believe the Englishman who doesn't speak a lick of French happens to be the only one who 'knew what was up' with him? Some plot twist. 

I recalled, “Do you remember when Mirabeau had assigned us specific tasks, mostly dealing with spying on several targets?”

“You mean when the Creed was under quarantine and we were bored out of our minds?” Stephen added. I translated it back to Clement who held his chin thoughtfully.

Amazing how Elysia, a Mentor, doesn't know the inner dealings of her own creed. Maybe if she used some of her supernatural knowledge she'd know what Mirabeau was up to. Also, the Assassins being 'bored out of their minds', asked for a Shay cleanup.

"Why should you even bother?" Clement urgently interrupted, as if he had known I would mention the Dorian. "He'd be too impatient." Stephen’s gaze shifted to the ground.

He just so happens to be the one who witnessed the Parisian Rite get wiped out. And you're already condemning him. 

I regarded them both, “...Tell me. What do you think happened? Do you know how James died?”

The air thickened at that, and neither one of them answered me.

Until, "….He wasn't supposed to be on a mission, it was our day off," Stephen’s anger intertwined with his low tone.

No fucking wonder you guys are getting your asses kicked. Dozens of your comrades get smoked by an Irishman and you're talking about your day off? Pfft.  

I pressed again, “Do you think it was Arno’s fault James died?”

"He didn't put the bullet through his back." Clement’s sullen expression didn't match the tone he held, "But that doesn't explain why he took him. Why didn't he ask you or Bellac??”

Because:

1. You wouldn't believe him. 

2. You'd call him a fucking idiot and smack him around for wasting your time. 

If Arno didn't trust you with this information, there's a problem. For a good reason, too: you did try to kill him when he said you were responsible for wrecking the Café.

The man almost trembled in place, and for a fleeting moment did I see the internal fight visible on his face. Of trying to remain calm, his eyes attempting to remain dry. Stephen, lost in translation, silently agreed to his anger. They were both angry.

“Why couldn't he trust you enough and instead put James at risk?! How can you expect us to work alongside someone who couldn't think to see consequences in his actions!"

Gee, maybe if these fuckers pulled their head out of their asses, they'd learn that there are no days off during the French Revolution. They'd realize that Shay Cormac is a problem, and that their mentor doesn't know who the fuck he is. I knew they were going to blame Arno, because these lacklustre, cheating assholes can't see that Elysia couldn't be trusted enough with what Arno saw. They're blaming Arno for having no trust, when he is completely justified in being hesitant. 

“Yes, you’re right-“

“Then why?!!” Clement finished, throwing his arm down between us. “James is dead. James is gone. While Arno-“ His clubbed hand whitened from the brute force he gave it.

Yes, blame the guy you hate for no reason, even when you don't know the whole story. 

"….Arno could have asked for more help than just James," Stephen spitefully remarked, but his eyes couldn’t meet mine.

Like...?

“It’s my responsibility,” I retorted, my voice soft. My cowl fell to my shoulders, and my feet carried me to stand between the two. They both avoided me. My teeth gritted, and suddenly the armor I carried earlier…. “You’re all my responsibility. If Arno had asked all of you...I would have to have burned four bodies today, not just one. A-And…I don’t think….” The tears welled, and the back of my hand pressed against my mouth, “…I don’t think I would’ve been able to live with myself if that….happened.”

 Ah, so now Miss Perfect cries. Now she feels guilt. Too little, too late is what I say. This display of empathy from her is useless, because it will just be undone in later chapters. She does not feel guilty because she is genuinely guilty; she is guilty because she got called out. 

“...As much as you don’t want to hear it, as much as you wish NOT to believe it.... His death does not fall in the Dorian’s hands.”

No. It doesn't. Now move the fuck on and acknowledge he's a person and that he's right.  

Clement's jaw set in place, unsatisfied, unable to accept it. He shut his eyes tightly, his head shaking side to side to try and calm himself. But it was just too much for him to bare-

He tugged his hood over his head, "Excusez-moi," and he let himself out.

It's 'too much' for him to realize a squadmate is innocent? Makes me wonder  whose idea it was to put this band of idiots together - oh, wait.  

To make sense of it all.

To make an effort….to keep us all afloat.

Because whoever this Shay was….he was going to face an opposition he had never seen before.

...You should know who Shay Cormac is. Because he just so happens to be THE MOST FEARED ASSASSIN HUNTER IN YOUR LIFETIME.  

But how….how heavy the heart weighed.

“Yet, you still choose to stay,” he caught himself whispering, a slight edge to his tone. His eyes met the distant city of Paris, and the memory of the underground cavern stuck in his mind.

And the way the redhaired woman betrayed everything Bernard had built himself around. The things he knew to be true….tested. Questioned when she remained impenetrable to his logic.

She's not that impenetrable if you knew right away she wasn't human. I have a hunch he's connected to the mysterious people Shay is working with to supplant the Templars. If not, and he's some weird Dean Winchester knock-off, this went from being a serious re-write to a bizarre crossover event. 

What has she betrayed? I don't know what Andre the Giant's life is built around. He lives in a shithole. Supposedly, he doesn't like Elysia's 'kind'. What, is he cosplaying as Alucard?

And the ghosts that hovered above her. And there were hundreds of them.

Higher kill count than the U.S. Army looking for oil is what that girl has. 

Inspecting Bernard, each warning him with a look that said: Don’t you dare.

Easy, if he says a special chant he'll banish them like that priest from Hellsing. Even ghosts want to protect this Mary Sue.  

Then, the one, recognizable eidolon that towered behind her, as if he had never left her side. Because then did Bernard realize: James was as stubborn as ever, even in death.

“The dead….weigh heavily upon you, Master Elysia.”

Do they? Those killed by Shay didn't affect her at all, until the author decided it was convenient for her to care.

 “And….somehow, they all still depend on you to keep living.”

Technically, she's immortal, unless you throw a silver goblet at her. She this Mary Sue can't die, even if the audience really wanted her to. She's got plot armour thicker than the plexiglass behind a KFC counter in Detroit. 

Now, Andre the Giant, or Bernard the 7 foot tall demon hunter, is returning to Paris because you can fast travel by selecting the option on the map. He is meant to be some kind of antagonist, but instead of making me hate him, I actually like him. However, I still don't know how he knew Elysia was not human at their first meeting, and I don't think Les and her co-authors know, either. It was just there. 

Another thing was all this character development for a character we barely knew and had next to no screentime. James was considered inspirational and influential, always making friends and most of the Assassin Brotherhood liked him. He was a 'close friend' to Elysia. Except...none of the previous chapters showed that. He wasn't developed at all. In fact, he helped Clement and Stephen cheat against Arno and did not trust him. Arno only turned to him for help because he knew Elysia would never believe Shay Cormac was a threat - Hell, she doesn't even know who he is. 

This ignorance of the infamous Assassin hunter is all on her. She didn't tell her own recruits about him, didn't inform him he was in the city. She was suspicious of Mirabeau, but couldn't figure out that Shay fucking Cormac was in the city and is killing her own people. When she is confronted on this; when she has to take responsibility, she doesn't do it because she actually feels guilty. She does so to make herself look better. None of her tears seem genuine to me, but basic bitch tears from a woman of colour who doesn't like to be faced with the consequences of her actions. 

This chapter took me three hours to do because there was so much content. It just keeps getting more and more ridiculous. Les doesn't realize that your textual evidence needs to match with what you say about a character: if the evidence isn't there that so and so did this or that, yet you say they did, it will only create plot holes and logical inconsistencies. She writes that Elysia carries so much guilt, but she never shows it. She writes that she really does care about her teammates, yet never shows it. It's all said and not show. 

This chapter was 12,000 words about a funeral. We are now at 153, 672 words. This isn't getting better. This is getting progressively worse: and still NO canon characters have even made a significant impact. It's all about  Elysia and a dead NPC no one cared for. One thing I will say is this: the dad, who I was supposed to hate, ended up stealing the show because that motherfucker was based. I hope he shows up later and actually gives this Mary Sue a beating. It'd be quite entertaining!