No Resolution in the Month of Pain - Pistols at Dawn Chapter 17

 As promised, Les has delivered her second update in August. In her author's note, she is unsure whether there will be an update for September, so we will have to see. As an added bonus, Les promises her story will pick up shortly after these updates...well over 160,000 words in. 

The previous chapter included a long tangent on the death of an NPC - James - and the introduction of Andre the Giant AKA James' uncle Bernard, who goes to England and back to France on a ship wondering how he can kill Elysia a la Dean Winchester style. We also learned Elysia has a weakness to silver despite Les not knowing silver was heavily used as currency and utensils in this time period, and that she still doesn't know or care who Shay Cormac is.

This chapter is only around 7,000 words, but depending on the content, this post will be as long as the others.

  Mirabeau is up to something. It baffles me that everyone questions his methods, yet no one challenges him to do anything different. Why are we left in the Dark, to serve the Light from our own Masters? Do they not trust us to carry the burden of Truth?

This is James' internal monologue on why Mirabeau, a mentor, is being sneaky. I have to wonder why James has his reservations towards what he'd probably know was a career politician vs someone like Elysia, a Mentor no one knows or cares for and whose authority was granted on a whim. Plus, as he was not a Master Assassin yet he was technically not allowed to question the inner sanctum of Mentors - Elysia included. If he trusted Elysia, and she him, why couldn't she at least console him in these worries? It'd at least add depth. So far, she is only upset that he died because he wasn't able to give her the secrets she wanted.  

Then….James was unashamed to reveal his true feelings sometimes.

Not enough to tell Elysia, and not enough to adequately make an impact on the audience. He was just a name and a body; he wasn't a tour de force. Besides, he helped cheat against Arno, so he wasn't as noble as Les makes him out to be. Character consistency matters when you are crafting a story - more so if you are trying a re-write. 

    Still, there’s a notion of privacy that lingers within all walks of life; one that I should take more care of realizing and accepting. Within the Creed, within our relationships to one another; how frustrating that concept can be. It acts as a cape to shadow and hide away one’s true self. Perhaps the motto to work in the Dark to serve the Light can be seen as a willful dream. To cast your own ambitions away, to muddle your hands in dirt and blood, in order to secure the future where one doesn’t have to hide who they are.

What did you expect joining the Assassins? It's not an amusement park. You are sworn to secrecy. A double life is to be expected. You are never to divulge the secrets of the Creed, and the whole reason you work in the shadows is that you are never caught and you can never be named. If James was so reckless with the Creed, more so than Arno, he should never have been inducted. Why was Elysia so careless with him and not Arno? I guess one Fucking White Male is enough. 

         I’ve been hiding for so long that it hurts to look whether or not I’ve entirely discarded my own. Perhaps expecting Elysia to come forth with her own is rather conceited of me…

She's a mentor, she's not required to explain anything to you. More so since she was granted a Mentor status based on nothing but her existence, and that her alleged trust was James was never concrete. Do you really think the 'Gypsy' woman with long ears and golden eyes is human to begin with? Really, dude? 

  I do my best to serve Elysia, but I can’t shake this feeling that she doesn’t trust me. Not entirely at least, maybe not yet. It shouldn’t bother me…but it does to some degree.

She doesn't trust anyone, because her character development is based on her hating anyone who isn't her. Also, did we not establish out of the whole Baguette Squad, James had the best relationship with Elysia? Why did Elysia mourn James so much if she didn't have some form of friendship with him? Distrustful people don't cry over a random death like she did. 

Apparently, asking for decent character development is harassment.  

Why.

“How can I trust you, if you’ve never taken the time to actually show how you feel??”

Good question, and an important one to ask a Mentor no less. Elysia never inspires trust in anyone, yet they all worship her and view her as some powerful force of nature. It's clear she never divulged to James how she nearly destroyed the Café or how she killed him in the Church. She never told him about Shay Cormac; it never occurred to her to even explain or discover who he was and what he was there for. The Mentor of the Parisian Brotherhood is, in the words of a deceased would-be Master Assassin and 'friend', inherently untrustworthy. 

Why did I do the same thing he did?

“Whatever it is you’ve bottled up always wins, and no matter how strongly I respect you, you always give me a doubt about who you are, or what you’re thinking!”

How…infuriating.

James has a right to be doubtful and angry. He poured his soul into his work and all Elysia gave him was the cold shoulder and 'you disgusting plaebian' talk. Why should James have respected Elysia at all with this much doubt? And look at how she responds afterwards: she finds his concerns 'infuriating', as if her sensibilities are offended, rather than the dead Master Assassin she had a role in killing.  

 I want to ask her—there’s so many things I want to know about her. We’ve known each other for a while, I would have assumed to have learned something by now. But…I’m not so sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t think she’ll like that suggestion.

In short: he wouldn't ask her because she'd rip his face off the same way she nearly did Arno's. That's not a relationship to have if you can't ask people basic questions or share a degree of trust if you are friends. 

I found myself sitting back, and looking ahead. Remembering whenever James was around me….wondering how many times he actually battled with himself to ask me something. That he was……so afraid of me.

But that’s what I was trying to do, right?

Don’t get attached.

Les thinks writing bitchy characters with no likable characteristics to them means they are just people who don't want to get attached to others because of hurt or some other reason. It should be obvious to Elysia that everyone is afraid of her: her own employees at the Café don't even want to be in the same room as her and run whenever she is in a foul mood. If she doesn't know people think she's the ninth circle of Hell, she has a stunning lack of self awareness. Given her actions in the story, this does not surprise me at all.

Because….that’s what I thought would help me. Help everyone. Keep everyone away from me. And yet….my negligence, my way of acting let someone I cared about still get hurt.

 I should tell her…why I left England.

          Why I couldn’t face my family as being one of the most useless Hauls in this round of a century. That I thought I could bring myself a kind of honor that didn’t go around killing the unnatural world that converses with ours. I wonder if Elysia would understand or if she’d put space between us. I might not have to fret over being outright slain but…years of conditioning hasn’t put the notion away.

          No…perhaps not today…but another day.

Look, I get it: with the world of the Isu and superhuman objects that can defy the laws of physics, time and space, there's a degree of suspension of disbelief. But this Supernatural style plot where you're killing demons and jumping from one parallel world to another is absolutely ridiculous. Do you really think I'm going to believe James was a Target-brand Dean Winchester? Really? 

I’m a fucking idiot.

Thanks for the lampshade, girl. 

        Trust is not a one-way streak that many of us expect to follow. So…I shall do my own part, someway, somehow.

 For actually….following his exact example. Being my mentor’s exact shadow.

Which is...? You are not doing anyone any favours by hiding details. This doesn't make you mysterious, it makes you obtuse. Where the Hell is this story going?

I’ll gather more proof against what Mirabeau has been up to…and if the opportunity ever presents itself…I’ll be honest.

 I made it so….hard for everyone. Why did I make it so hard?

I don't fucking know, ask the dumbass author who wants to create a re-write and doesn't know what the fuck she's doing.

At least I wasn't the one who had to call Elysia an idiot - her own author did that for me. 

 If these notes were ever to be found…then perhaps you could forgive me for not speaking up sooner.

  I’m no better.

“You’re the same way, Elysia.”

You know what you did.

Apparently not, as she willingly let James die because she didn't know who the fuck Shay Cormac was. That's on her and her alone. But this harpooning of Elysia by herself isn't the character reflection Les thinks it is: it's just her admitting she's a fuckup yet is unwilling to change at all.

Marceline entered the café parlor, fully dressed in her work attire and her dark braids tied in a bun. She avoided my gaze, but not for long; I managed my way over to her, seeing her pause momentarily at the container of coffee. I couldn’t exactly….blame her for the way she reacted; I already made it apparent in the manor I wasn’t someone to approach so….openly.

No shit. Everyone in that manor is afraid of you. And it's got nothing to do with you being 'unapproachable'. You are just a cruel bitch. You expect everyone to call you 'Madame', instead of 'Citizen', and even when they call you Madame it sounds like they swallowed a vat of salt. It's not done out of respect, but fear.  

“I need to speak with her; her avoidance isn’t a coincidence.”

“They’re taking it as well as they could, I would think.”

“Understandable.” She collected the porcelain cup, the small container of sugar and a spoon onto the silver tray. I held out my hand to her, and she stopped at my offer. “Do you wish to take it to her?”

“I need to speak with her; her avoidance isn’t a coincidence.”

I'm bringing up this conversation for two reasons: one, Elysia, aside from that one incidence where she spoke to Clement and Stephen, hasn't spoken to them since or anyone else over the death of James; and two, it has been stated in the previous chapter that Elysia is allergic to silver. Yet she's going to handle a silver tray.

Did Les think this through? 

 Marceline gave a sad smile, “It’s not my place..”

“You’re an employee here, not a servant,” I reminded her, and this suddenly eased her tense shoulders. Her hands remained rigid on the object, “What is it?”

She was almost an ex employee thanks to you. Glad that was glossed over for this mindless praise. 

“You’ve known Charlotte for a longer time than we have…” she searched along the wooden counter. “I’m still unsure about you.”

“You have a right to be,” I agreed, making her direct her dubious gaze to me. “My intentions with Charlotte are not hostile nor violent.”

When you have an employee tell you that, it is not a positive sign. You ran this business with an iron fist, and nearly ran it into the ground. In front of Charlotte you started verbal arguments and physical fights with Arno. You are absolutely hostile and violent.  

“I trust your word on that,” Marceline debated yet again. “Then….answer me this, child.” I nodded momentarily. “How did you meet Charlotte?”

My jaw tightened a tad, “…She was abandoned, and I helped her get to Paris.” She blinked in surprise at this, and I continued to clarify, “She lost family members, and I had nowhere to go. We got together, and I led us to Paris where I got into contact with the Brotherhood here. Hence, how we acquired the theatre-café.”

“I see….she never mentioned anything like that.”

“It’s a painful memory and I do my best to not bring it up.”

Charlotte is easily in her 30's or 40's, which means that Elysia has been wandering around Paris and France for around 30 or so years. Despite this, she still knows next to nothing about the French people and continues to view them as vermin. The Café was already in the Brotherhood's possession - it simply had not been used for years as it was in disrepair. Elysia not knowing how to run said business and not look at the books, nearly driving all of her employees on the street should really hammer home she should not be anywhere be the building, but no. 

Why is Marceline calling Elysia 'child'? She doesn't look like a child at all.

I set the silver tray in front of her, and sat beside where the extra chair had been positioned. No doubt Marceline, Grisier, and/or Bridgette had been keeping an eye on her this whole time.

And why are you not turning into a puddle now? Thought you were allergic to silver.  

I sighed, “…Charlotte.” Her vacuous eyes didn’t look my way, and her mouth was slightly parted to exhale rather than to answer me back. Her cheeks were entirely cracked and dried of endless streams of tears, and I can only wonder how much of James’ passing….really affected her. “I’m sorry.”

No, you aren't. If you had any sense you would have told James about Shay Cormac.  

“Why do…the people I care about keep dying?” she managed to forcefully push out after a good five minutes of silence. She didn’t bother to hide her low sniffs, running her sleeve across the bottom of her nose. “H-He didn’t deserve that. Our James didn’t deserve that.”

I still don't know who 'our James' was aside from letters and side plots on how great he was. Why didn't you spend as much time developing him in the story if he has such an impact? He had no lasting impact on me; he was just an NPC. Don't bother waxing poetic about how powerful a character's death is when I have no idea who he is. 

 “Are you….alright?”

Her eyes spotted my own, and they widened.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the person who saved you.”

OK, so it's established that Elysia and Charlotte have known each other for quite some time. Decades, probably. Even if not, and Elysia only saved Charlotte a few years ago, Charlotte should have noticed that Elysia never aged. She should have also known about Elysia's personality and utter incompetence in running businesses. It's like trusting Alexandria-Ocasio Cortez to run the bar she was just a bartender at.

Are you going to lie to her again?

“….Yes.”

Don’t you learn?

No, no, she doesn't. If she did, we wouldn't be here.  

In the meantime, Mathias (done with doing most of the expenses and numbers for the café), met with me outside. The fountain was malfunctioning; the spurts of water merely leaking out and challenged with the grown vegetation and duckweed harboring in it. With my sleeves rolled up and hoodless, I went to work, ignoring some of the brief looks I received before continuing my chore and conversing with the accountant.

And why didn't you do this earlier? Was gardening too filthy and beneath you? If you didn't fix the fountain or well first you are dealing with wasted water. In a time where clean water was a luxury, and not getting cholera or dysentery from wells was a blessing, this would be your first priority. 200 IQ Elysia thought strangling a Frenchman for saying she's doing a terrible job came first. 

"It is; death is a fear that festers when someone is lost to it. I'm certain it's only a grim reminder of the reality we work in."

Mathias is sympathetic and privy to the Assassins, yet couldn't tell anyone else but Elysia how bad the Café was doing? Ho hum.

A well-cared, four-seated Berline carriage rimmed with crimson parked itself at the main entrance of the manor. The horses fussed gently against the rider, nudging themselves to the pails of water that were set aside for them to drink. With that be taken care of, the rider took to opening the golden-handle door, Giselle being the first to step out and her son close behind. Lastly was Orfeo who ducked his head to avoid being hit, fanning himself with a stolen hat likely from Jaq.

Word of advice: going through the streets in a carriage lined with red velvet and gold during 1789 is the fastest way you are going to get mobbed and stabbed for your belongings. Immortal or job, Orfeo is going to be skewered. It would also be a reminder to the peasants he stole grain from (that you helped with) that he's doing well and they are not. It's like driving a golden Mercedes through East Cleveland at night: you are asking for trouble.

"Hi, Elysia. Did you miss me?" He began casually, his arms tucked securely behind his back (clearly hiding something) and beamed. "Is that your actual hair??? WOW, I didn't realize hair can get that red, it looks so cool on you--and you have tattoos?? They look old, and I mean like ancciiiennnttt." He tiptoed at this to get a better look at my limbs.

This cutesy anime kid apparently doesn't have the prejudice against Gypsies like actual 18th century French kids would. Elysia isn't even human, and has the skin tone of a foreigner. He'd come right out and say she looked like a desert woman.

"I wanted to; you saved my life! I've been trying to think of ways to repay you without grumpy Orfeo and his bread." Jaq's pucker ignited once more, drumming his fingers against the curved rock, "He was teasing me the whole time about it too. Said I should bake you the bread myself but he knows I'm no good at baking." 

That's also another way to get stabbed: bread was rare and its prices skyrocketed. Guaranteed if that kid had a piece of fresh bread and was walking around Paris, he'd be mobbed and stomped to death for it. 

It helps to actually do research Les.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked. I shifted my glance, seeing Orfeo lift his digit up, and slide the tip across the lower section of his eye. “You got that……look on your face.”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” I noted. “It must be your imagination.”

Pretty sure Orfeo knows when you're lying, if the kissing encounter from a few chapters earlier is any indications. You tend to bluster and your facial expressions give it all away. The strong feminist has to give in to the hot alpha male eventually. 

Orfeo didn’t let up, scoffing lowly a second after, "Riiiight, clearly my imagination must be running rampant right now. I swear that you’re turning into a raccoon before my eyes.”

“…..What the hell is a raccoon?” I gave him a stare.

OK, I can kind of get this because Europeans tend to be perplexed by raccoons, as they are endemic only to North America. However, that makes me wonder how Orfeo knows about them too if he has never been there. It would be better if he said 'Panda bear eyes', as pandas were known to Europeans thanks to China. 

“…Never mind. I'm taking the shop didn't burn down while we were gone?"

“No, it didn’t. I told you it wouldn’t,” I reassured, digging the brush into the clogged opening one last time before giving it a good shake or two to remove the excess. “You should have a little more faith in Charlotte’s team for that.”

Yes, because Charlotte is doing all the hard work while you aren't. You didn't even clean up with fountain first. How lazy are you?  

"They're still a bit too new for me to get a sense of who they are as people." Orfeo admitted with a slight shift to his eyes, crossing his arms, "I had more faith in your words, not theirs."

“That carries a lot of weight.” I caught his dark orbs, one hand adjusting my sleeve properly.

"You better believe it; might get into spats with you sometimes but I'm not that stubborn to admit you keep your word."

You're trusting a woman who couldn't balance the books, didn't know who Shay Cormac was, and deliberately let an apprentice die? I'm sure she can keep her word...on a toe tag.  

"....Yeah?"

"…Was it something I said?" he studied me judiciously.

I took a moment, “……No…I…it caught me off-guard, that’s all.”

"Surprised?" He reiterated, raising a brow, "I mean....I can understand considering how we normally treat each other."

“…maybe it’s best if you move on, to start something new.”

Man, is this dialogue cringy. I can just feel the tension between these two. Really, I can! The astute, proud, bitchy feminist and Mary Sue is calmed down and turns into a puddle by the hot anime guy. Is it the bangs? 

I must be out of my mind.

“Be honest with me.”

“….Hmm?”

I exhaled out, feeling the bags of my eyes burdened further, “….Did you ever stop caring…..at one point in your life?”

Hmm, let's see:

- Did not do any research on the French Brotherhood and gained a position based on nothing at all.

- Belittles her staff, knowing they are afraid of her and refuses to even be professional towards them as a businesswoman should.

- Nearly drove the business entrusted to her out of operation, blaming the man who told her what she was doing wrong and tried to kill him.

- Set up her recruits in a botched Church assassination.

- Dragged a dying man around Paris, miraculously keeping him alive for long monologues despite a lung shot.

- Does not give a damn about anyone besides herself, and the attempts to make her relatable in the text does not prove the premise. 

Yes, I'd say you are out of your mind.

He fought against his frown, "I don't know what you wanted to hear from me. Maturity, forgiveness for something that was so long ago...."

“I don’t know either…” I straightened up at this, mildly scrubbing the inner curve of the fountain, “…sometimes I wonder if that all really happened. If I dreamt it, if any of it was….real. If it was right.”

This is likely a flashback to the previous story that takes place in Brotherhood, which I did not manage to get past ten chapters (but do plan on re-reading again and posting chpter reviews here). In any case, Elysia's pondering and her sudden change of heart towards Orfeo is not genuine. The ream sequences and flashbacks do not make her sympathetic; they only serve to deflect.  

"He changed after that day. You changed him, even though he never wanted to admit to it, or if you even want to accept that,” I answered him with a brief look afterwards. He remained silent at this, moving his hand across the engravings of the stone consisting of vines and bell flowers. The words battled in his mouth from the way his tongue slid underneath his lips, across his teeth. Eyes averting and avoiding my look. I guess I had that effect on everyone.

 Not really an effect you want especially when you are a Mentor and you are influencing people. This is the attitude of a rogue, like Shay. You are not as badass as you think you are.

I picked up the brush, hitting it clean before dumping in into the bucket at my feet, “….I’m not…..mad at you, Orfeo.”

"....Why would you have been mad at me anyways?" He scoffed lowly, "I haven't done anything to you."

“…You kissed me and left with a smug look on your face,” I arched a brow, earning his immediate stare. “I think that added some sort of effect.”

It's not like you didn't consent, and you wanted the D anyways. It's true, Orfeo hasn't done anything to Elysia, but she's still mad at him because she chooses to. It is her choice to be unlikable, and all the attempts to make her seem nice feel callous and insulting.

"..............Right." Orfeo had a face; a mixture of disbelief and revelation of the sudden memory, "I thought you were implying something completely different and I was thrown off a little bit to be honest with you."

“…Uh huh,” I rolled my eyes, picking up the bucket with one hand, and gripped my gifted wine in the other. I made my way to the front door. 

Oooh, look at that sass! She totally doesn't want you now!  

Orfeo trailed after, his hand vertical against his straight nose and signaling it forward with purpose, “Listen, we were having a very straight-forward conversation and you made a severe left.”

I continued my way to the back of the manor, settling the pail down, “You have some nerve leaving like that.” I rested my hand on my hip, looking up at Orfeo who stood in the space of the doorway. I pointed the neck of the bottle to his direction, giving it a little swirl, “Every other woman you’ve done that to might’ve fallen head over heels for you, but I can assure you…I’m not easily swayed.”

I'm torn between this looking like a bad anime romance or just a projection of Les' tweets on her lesbian relationship. It's obvious that Elysia is attracted to Orfeo, and she happens to have that Mary Sue 'I'm not attracted to you, NO I'M NOT!' attitude before she inevitably hops on his dick. If she wasn't 'easily swayed', why the intense lip-locking session, girl?

(And as an added note, for a lesbian, Les sure does write a lot about men having sex with each other. Repressed desires? You decide.)

"Oh?" A felicity of a smile rose upon his lips, "But you were swayed nonetheless."

The edge of my eye twitched a tad, “Let’s get one thing straight—“

“Mhmm?”

Boy is right. You wouldn't be locking lips or playing the flirtation game if you weren't attracted to him. He knows what's up. 

I stood in front of him, the opening of the bottle picking up his chin; his eyes looked downward to me from the lifted angle, “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I’m probably the last thing you ever want to mess around with; the woman you saw in that dress centuries ago isn’t the same woman you’re looking at right now.”

Oh, look at me, I'm shaking. Yes, the strong, powerful immortal demi-goddess who's weakness is silver and can handle silver trays no problem is definitely threatening to the guy she's wet for. You think you're a comet flying in the sky, all pretty, untouchable and dangerous, but you're just a big fat barrel of gunpowder waiting for something sharp to touch you and explode.  

"You don't think I know that?" He raised a brow, hip out, "People are allowed to change...” He pushed the bottle downwards to properly look at me, "But I'm not an unreasonable man either. You want me to back off, I'll back off. All you have to do is say so."

He does have a nice smile…when he means it.

I rolled my eyes, my cheeks flaring on reflex, “……Honestly.”

It's obvious from your body language alone that this hard-to-get ploy is nothing but bullshit. I cannot imagine what the sex is going to be like. Is Billy Idol's 'Rebel Yell' going to play in the background?

“You're setting yourself up for a dangerous game..." He trickled out a deep chuckle, "Wonder where did all that hot air and huffing went."

“Continue with your cockiness, and you’ll be losing your own game,” I warned. I rested a hand to his chest, and pressed his back against the door’s jamb, “And I don’t think you want that.”

"Mmmm....not sure. I think there's still a winning variable in it." He held my wrist at this and thumbed along the inner part of it, "If you think you're up for the ride..."

See point above. The fact she's letting him do this and subtly enjoying it is not the sexual tension the author was aiming for. It is a bad Kingdom Hearts style romance. 

“That depends,” my eyes scanned his face, down to his chest and back up, “On a lot of things.”

“You won’t be disappointed.”

He's got the D, and he's not afraid to use it.  

I tilted my head, gold irises peering up past red curls, “You sound very sure about that.”

He smirked, "I am. Why would I try to lure you in if I wasn't confident?"

Because no woman is attracted to a beta male. I guarantee you, nearly all feminists I've seen that go on about toxic masculinity - as well as certain lesbians - will watch 365 Days and will wish for a man like that to give them a romp in the sheets. It's not toxic if the guy is a hot alpha male - and that trope shows.

“Your confidence is something to admire.” I stepped back and waved my hand behind me as I walked on. His chuckle strengthened as he came up behind, enticing me to face him again as we stood by the open window nearest Mathias’ Study.

"We wouldn't have gotten this far if I didn't keep at it. Then again, you have your own confidence in this too." He tilted his head, and let his voice drop an octave, "You are the one that pulled me in for the kiss."

“Then don’t give me a reason to regret it,” I resisted gazing at his satisfied smile for too long. I thumbed to the window to where Jaq frantically waved his arms toward us, “Your best friend is calling you.”

Annnnd there goes all that resistance. See? Bitches can't resist alpha male dick. 

The road was occupied by several travelers of Paris, unaffected by the inner city’s tautological turmoil and civil, rebelling battles. The grass swayed in a soft dance; bent from the weight of the mustangs we rode on. The sun was at its evening height, the rocks warm and simmering slightly. The horse galloped casually under my grip, Bellac himself keeping level with me.

If it's a road out of Paris guaranteed it's not going to be peaceful. They blocked most of the roads and there are border checkpoints to make sure you pay the poll tax. There is also no way any traveler of Paris is not going to be affected. Did you forget it's 1789? 

Or is it 1791? I forget. I think it's 1791. 

He muttered once or twice, “This damn pisspot,” but kept mostly calm during our surmounting travel to Versailles.

“Are you really surprised?” I met his eyes.

"Didn't think he'd come running back here..." Bellac scoffed, easing the grip on his reins.  "Could've easily just tuckered down in a pub or his own damn place than come all the way here."

You've had Arno for...two years, and you still are shocked and disappointed in him? For shame. He's had two years to build up his skills and yet look at where he is. Looks like Elysia is a shit mentor, but you didn't need me to tell you that.  

“He’s not that simple; we were fools to think otherwise.” Bellac shifted his solicitude look; he hardly was ever nervous, but he was human as anyone else. His jaws tightened, and I could see his cheek swimming with the internal tension he fought against. “….What aren’t you telling me?”

Oh, so NOW you acknowledge he's not the simpleton you think he is. Good for you. Glad you figured that out. 

At first he said nothing, then, “I might’ve gotten into a spat with him beforehand.”

“…About?” I pressured.

"I had to get a clearer picture to why he went after Shay in the first place—I thought..." Bellac's jaw shut tight again, frustration lingering from the blows that must’ve been exchanged, "I thought someone told him what Shay did to his father, that he's the one that murdered him."

...You are not the smartest people. There is no way Bellec wouldn't have known it wasn't Shay, especially since he experienced Shay's purges first hand. Knowing Charles had the Precursor box and Shay wanted it for the Templars would've made an easy connection. Sure, this was not mentioned in game but this explanation is equally stupid. 

Remember when Elysia acted dumb when asked who Shay was? Correction: she didn't act, she literally did not know who he was. 

“…You told him—“

“Like I said, I didn’t know—“

I sighed, running a hand up my face, threatening to remove the cowl right then and there. But I resisted, and calmly reclaimed my reins, “…We’ll figure it out. He can’t keep running….no matter how hard he tries.”

 Yeah, you did. It was made clear in the previous chapters that Shay killed Arno's father. Did we forget the conversation Elysia had with Bellec where she said it would be wrong to tell Arno who really killed his father? Did we really forget all of that? 

This is what happens when you cannot even remember what you wrote. 

"Tch, I hate to say you're right..." he glowered. “He mentioned living in the de la Serre estate, but it's been nearly two years, think that place is still standing?"

“Only one way to find out.”

He exhaled almost dismissively, "The boy needs to learn to grow up."

 Growing up was an understatement.

You've known him for two years, trained him for two years, and this is the cuckoldry we got? Get over yourself. Here you are telling Arno to grow up when you melted at some anime boy immortal with bangs. This comes after you debated telling him about Shay. Seriously, all these butchered characters can go fuck themselves. 

We made way into the border of Versailles, and stationed our horses at a nearby, organized stable. From there, Bellac and I parted briefly to ask various peaceful residents and civilians of the name de la Serre and where his last property was. Slowly but surely did we piece our evidence together, and approached the abandoned mansion.

It's been a while since I read a book on Versailles, but it's around an hour outside of Paris. I also need to mention de la Serre was the Templar Master in France. How do the Assassins not know who he is? Elysia? 

She doesn't know Shay or François de la Serre? Really?

“Bellac…” I entered the space, and stood beside, “…Let me talk to him.”

Oh, this will be nice.

“We have to talk.” He ignored me, but a strain expression overtook the edges of his eyes.

“Bellac informed me what he told you,” I tried again. When he said nothing, “Bellac wanted to tell you sooner….but I was against it. In truth: I don’t think it would’ve boded well if you had known your father’s killer was lurking around…but with everything that happened, I question whether that had been the right decision or not.” 

OK first off: Let's go back to the talk between Bellec and Elysia. Both of them knew (Elysia honestly didn't) Shay killed Arno's father. Bellec had wanted to tell him, Elysia did not. Elysa thought it would be prudent to keep the truth from him. Despite this, Arno encountered Shay anyways, nearly died, and now has to contend with this bitch's apology. 

What an insult.

“You need to face your fears—“

“And there you go again,” he scoffed almost painfully, tossing his folded parchment down and crossing his arms defensively against his chest. “Lecturing me, always. No no, you’re here to berate me over squandering everything you or Bellac have tried to instill in me since I've joined the Assassins. Or what happened with James, right? Right?" his cracked voice rose.

This bitch honestly has a lot of nerve. Facing her fears means berating everyone else, blaming them for her problems - just like her author does. 

Arno is right in that all Elysia does is lecture him and breate him and has done so for the past two years. Neithe she or Bellec has created an Assassin, but a bitch boy. 

No fucking wonder he's getting ass fucked in this. 

“...No.” I answered, watching Arno battle internally with himself, especially when he shut his eyes. “We want to understand you. But we can’t if you don’t let us—”

"How can I when I've been belittled or entirely ignored or constantly told to be careful of what I've been trying to do!" He threw his arm forward at this, "’What are you doing, pisspot?! ‘Your zeal leaves much to the imagination’, ‘I don't think he cares much about the orders than his personal vendetta’, ‘Do I look like a joke to you??’ Just...." he frowned deeply, his shoulders dropping, "...’Don't get in trouble, all right’?"

In game, Bellec's 'pisspot' is meant to be a crude form of affection, but here it is once again used to abuse him. However, the bulk of the abuse sincerely comes from Elysia. Nothing will ever convince me she is sincere after trying to kill him for telling her she fucked up the Café. Let's also forget how she treated him as a weak willed piece of shit and willingly let her own recruits belittle him and cheat against him in a team of capture the flag. 

“....Arno....” I let the moment pass, allowing him to retract his arm again. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t accept this.

GOOD. 

I exhaled, “In truth…I could have done a better job to instruct you. To teach you…but you reminded me so much of my younger self sometimes…I tried everything I could to make you change, to make you better than who I used to be.” My eyes glided to the ground, and only then did Arno flicker his gaze to me from the corner of his eye. “I had a mentor once before; he was harsh, and I would always end up crying whenever we fought. He didn’t understand me; my emotions, my goals, my reasons for joining the Brotherhood….and despite how much he changed at the end of our journey, it doesn’t excuse the way he treated me in the beginning. I…I couldn’t move on from the pain in my life, it was just too much for me to bear…and—“ I inhaled sharply, my fingers pushing my hair back away from my eyes, “…Just because terrible things happened to me…doesn’t mean I should inflict them on someone else. And for that…I’m sorry I didn’t try hard enough to avoid all of this.”

 Who, Ezio? From what I read about the Brotherhood installment, Elysia happily tore people up with her claws like they were filet o' fish. Do not tell me she used to 'cry' a lot when she was just angry that someone told her 'no' for once in her life. 

I have heard this bullshit excuse before: 'I treated you like she because I was treated like shit, and I wanted you to be better than me because I was treated like shit.' It is circular logic and NO ONE  aside from you honestly believes it. How is attempting to murder someone over them telling you you made a grave mistake a sign you were just 'scared and reliving old memories? Seriously, fuck you. Do not insult my intelligence. 

He fixed himself in his position, silent and observant. I looked to him once more, despite him looking away again, “I’ll try to do better. You don’t have to forgive me.”

Bitch, 'doing better' would mean you fucking right off of this story and this canon.  

"...I went after Shay because he..." Arno drew out after a couple minutes of silence, his digits curling into fists, "He...was invited by the coup that killed de la Serre, and now he’s after my sister. They were all there...and he struck them down…then—“ he chuckled out angrily at this, and the tears failed to remain repressed, “—I find out that he killed my father, decades later?? Bellac throwing that in my face like I knew??”

1. Probably would've helped if you told other people that. But Elysia would not have believed you anyways. 

2. Bellec wou;dn't actually do this. He's crude but he still has respect for Arno and his late father. Why would he throw it in Arno's face when he was affected by Charles' death, too?

3. Can we stop with the 'Élise is my sister' bit? I get you want Arno to suck cock but this is ridiculous. 

"But w-why, out of everyone, would you be the one to defend me?" Arno was breathless, eyes searching urgently at mine, "How could you say you understand?!”

Good question. She gave no indication of this understanding earlier.  

“I’ve had many loved ones die for me…I wish…” My fingers dug slightly as I straightened up, “I wish it weren’t like this. I wish I could go back and change everything in my life, or even be bold to say I wish I never existed. But…in doing so…”

 I believe you like I believe Nancy Pelosi doesn't use Botox. 

“Then…” I stood up at this, and held out my hand to him. “Together, we will stop Shay. You don’t have to trust me, but allow me to understand you, and your feelings.”

YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHO HE WAS, YOU DUMB BITCH.  

"I will...for everyone's sake....for I am an Assassin." He vowed with a determined nod, and tightened his hold on me, "And I will honor and protect those that still stand with me."

Wow. Such character development. SO powerful. No real character arc for him at all. 

I nodded back with a confident smile, “And I will be right behind you.”

...with the lube he'll need for the eventual ass ramming he's getting.  

Word count is 160,287. Arno's character arc is 'resolved' with a sobbing fit and him saying 'I am Assassin', with no real power or drive behind it. In the two years he has been an Assassin, there has been no character development dedicated to him at all. Bellec is supposed to be dead by now, as his death is recorded in April  1791. Mirabeau also died in that month. How much character development do you think you are going to squeeze in a month's time? Mirabeau definitely cannot cheat death as he is a historical figure. Bellec you can twist things around but his death is and was necessary for the plot. Nevertheless, this lack of foresight by Les and her authors show. 

What gets me, though, is the insult to my intelligence. No Les, Elysia apologizing to Arno because she was abusing him because she was abused does not show she is a sympathetic character. It shows she was willing to berate and treat him as less than human because she could. You don't try to strangle someone just because they told you you were tanking a business and driving people to unemployment. You don't have people mortally afraid of you, even going so far as to avoid you in the hallway of a building you own. You have a dead apprentice wonder why he couldn't ever talk to you one-on-one. You steal grain from the poor to make your boyfriend rich. You have internal monologues about how you hate the other Mentors. You deliberately hid the truth from Arno and planned to use it as a means of getting a one-up over Bellec so you could hammer Arno into a better Assassin. 

You do not do this if you are a character genuinely guilty of what happened to them and want to change things. You do this when you are a monstrous bitch. 

Arno's treatment is giving me 'AC Unity Rewrite' vibes. He is so out of character it hurts. His intelligence is lowered so Elysia can shine compared to him; he runs away from all his problems; and there is no real character arc to him aside from a sobbing fit and him admitting to Elysia he'll 'do better'. He has spent two years in training but comes off as an incompetent bitch boy who needs his hand held. He has no intelligence, no sass, no real power to him. He is a cardboard cutout, free to wobble and wither in the hurricane gales. It is physically painful to read what is going on. There is no way Les and her co authors thought this was a good idea and that they were sticking to the lore. This is wrecking the canon and history to make a shitty Mary Sue look good. 

Nothing will ever compare to that 'I was abused, so I abused so you can be better than me' schtick. No one with a brain is going to believe that. Nothing will convince me she was a crying mess at the hands of Ezio while she was happy ripping up people who got in her way. That is sociopathic. Who in their right mind made Elysia a Mentor?

Oh, right: the author with her anime alpha boy power fantasy did. Gotta make the good looking Fucking White Male sob in submission to your epic Woman of Colour demi-goddess.