Tumblr: On Languages

tumblr: on languages

I don't think women can be funny. I wouldn't consider myself a misogynist or even transphobe, as so often comes with my ideology (All genders deserve equal pay and voting rights of course.) Transgender people in my eye are a little complicated because there is nonbinary and such, but generally "binaries" in regards to transgender people fall into their cisgender counterparts' categories. This is also a possible way to determine someone's "true gender" (if a man is not funny it is likely she will come out as transgender in the future.) I have seen female comedians and such but they have a different way of carrying themselves that tells me they do not know how to make a joke. Discovering your blog has been interesting to me because you seem to understand comedy much better than other females. Maybe you're not quite to the gold standard that men have achieved and perhaps your prowess is due to the Internet being a different medium but you have merit that many don't. Consider a career in screenwriting.

(Tw: assault, mentions of sexual assault, blood)

I stare at her. Sure, I grew up with overprotective siblings too. But why would she think that would work? The building is in the middle of nowhere, and nobody tracked her. No one is coming to save her.

"You will all fall," she intones ominously.

My comrade slaps her across the face. "Stop that, little girl," he hisses. "No one is coming to save you."

She blinks. We caught her off guard. "Why do you think that?"

"Girlie." My brother-in-arms spreads his arms, gesturing to the small room with boarded-up windows. "Where do you think you are? Surely someone with as much intelligence as you must have noticed we drove for an unusually long time. We're in," here his voice nearly reaches a scream, "the middle of nowhere."

She simply smiles, staring at him with a knowing smirk.

"No one is coming to save you," he hisses again, and makes to kick her. I stop him by tugging him out of the way.

"Boss wants a girl without interrogation marks," I remind him quietly. "Kicking her won't do anything until we can get back to base."

He huffs.

"There's a reason why I'm higher rank than you are," I remind him again.

He glares at me but stays silent.

"Start watches," I order. "Standard pattern, standard rotation. I don't want to see a mark on this girl when we move again, visible or otherwise."

One person grumbles, muttering something about how nice she would look on his-

I walk towards him and punch him in the gut before he can get the sentence out.

He doubles over, mouth moving but no air intake.

"What did I say?" I snap, tilting have a head towards mine.

It takes him a moment to recover his breath, but when he does, he chokes out "No... marks."

"Good." I release him and storm out of the room to fortify it.

- - - -

I'm on watch behind a piece of fallen concrete when I hear noises.

Scuffling. Grunts. The whine of something electrical.

I was on watch. Nobody got in to save the girl. That leaves only two options, and I'm really hoping it's the first.

The first is that two or three of my men are fighting about something and it got worse than they intended.

The second is that the girl is free, and she's fighting her way out.

I swear in my thoughts as I run inside, gun at the ready.

I'm not expecting for a foot to kick it out.

I take in the scene - two men unconscious, blood on the floor, a knife sticking out of one of the two standing men. The girl has a pistol, only sparing her left hand for it, and a taser that she must have gotten from one of the fallen men.

My gun is on the floor. She's starting to kick it away.

I grab my taser and flick it on, diving for her.

She isn't fast enough, and she crumples to the ground, her body contracting painfully.

I hold the taser against her side, and get her weapons out of her hands. When she shoves me away, she's still recovering. I start restraining her, but she manages to land a well placed kick to my knee.

It buckles, and I stumble, taking her weapons with her and falling on top of her.

I toss the weapons away and grab her hands, forcing her face down onto the ground. When she starts kicking, I sit on her.

I tell one of my men to wake the others and get medical attention for the unconscious ones. I'm not leaving this girl until she has no weapons and plenty of rope around her wrists.

She futilely twists against me.

Someone brings me rope. I secure her wrists as tight as possible before dragging her back inside the room and tying her to the support pillar she was tied to before.

Given that my men have all medical issues covered, I assign myself to watch the girl.

- - - -

We drive out with the girl tied to the door. She couldn't escape without a knife, which we've made sure she doesn't have. There's two other people in the same row.

She won't get out, and nobody will come to save her.

We enter the city where we'll stock up on supplies. It only barely passed the population count a year ago to be called a city, so there's enough stores without too many roads.

One person gets out at a grocery store. We wait for them to pick up canned goods and non-perishables. It only takes 31 minutes before they're out.

Another man gets ammo and electrical wires. Yet another gets fuel for the vehicle.

On our last stop, one to get small amounts of regulated liquor, the girl attempts to unlock her door.

At first, I'm amused. Then I realise that she's got both hands free.

I tell one of my brethren to retie her again. Rope is passed down, but just as it gets to him, she unlocks the door and sprints.

We aren't far behind her, and she's deprived of food and water. We'll catch her.

But then a foot sticks into my path, and I trip, cursing myself for falling for such an obvious trick. I roll to get up, but a shock from a taser hits me in the side and I am stunned for a moment.

Only a moment, as I am trained to avoid these things. Tasers don't stun if you get out of the way quickly enough. I did so this time.

Who hit me? The girl is 30 meters away and only losing distance as I catch up.

And then a bullet hits me - inexplicably - in the foot, and I go down screaming.

I can't even do the calculations now, it hurts so much. Bullets go everywhere, but I've never taken one in the foot before. You'd think that after previous shots I would know how to withstand the pain, and I can, but not yet, not yet, it hurts-

I fall, only barely managing to put out my hands.

Someone is dragging me away. Someone shot another comrade, and he's down too. Someone caught up to the girl, only to fall down dead in the next instant.

And I watch, horrified, as half of my brethren turn on me.

I don't know how it happened. I don't know how there are so many. I don't know why the girl isn't captured yet or why my foot hurts-

Calm down. You know what is going on.

Half of us turned on me.

The girl is getting away.

I still have a gun.

I find the grip, then the trigger, and I don't know how I manage to shoot, but I do.

It misses. My gun is taken away.

Another shot, this one in the arm. I might die of blood loss here.

My vision blurs. I squint, but that only makes things worse.

The girl comes up to me. She makes a face - baring her teeth? Smiling? and she says, the words clearl despite the roaring in my head, "I told you I had fifteen brothers. You fucked around. Now you found out."

The abductors looked at their young captive, astonished at their calm, almost pitying, expression. “I have 15 siblings. I am the youngest, and the only girl. You have absolutely no concept of how fucked you are.”

One worldbuilding thing that's always fun to do is take something you've encountered in the real world, and apply something similar with the same logic into your own. Like those sayings that have two halves, but people usually only know the first half and misunderstand the saying - like "birds of a feather flock together (until the cat comes)" or "great minds think alike (but fools rarely differ)." So I came up with a few for The Book I'm Not Writing:

Hungry dogs are loyal dogs (until someone else feeds them) - neglecting and mistreating your underlings may work as a short-term tactic for making them obey, but it's also a guarantees that they'll betray you at first chance.

The mouth of an idiot is as loose as the strings of their purse (so be there when gold may drop out) - just because nine out of ten things that someone says are completely useless doesn't mean you should dismiss them altogether. They might still know useful things, even if they can't tell it's useful.

Blood makes a foul dye (it stains, but it won't last) - here "foul" is often interpreted as "brutal" or "gruesome", when it's meant as "of low quality". Using violence as your way to establish dominance and maintain authority because it's easier than building networks of mutual trust and respect is as stupid and short-sighted as using blood to dye clothes because it's cheaper than proper pigment.

A fool will starve to death while waiting for grain to grow (but it is also a fool who'll slaughter an ewe an hour before it lambs) - Immediate problems require immediate solutions, but you'd better make sure that your drastic emergency solution is the right one.

A blind horse will go as you guide where a half-blind one dare not (both through the darkness and down a cliff) - an agent who doesn't know the purpose of their task will obey blindly, where one that knows some part of it might disobey out of distrust, but neither is as reliable as one that does see the big picture, can draw their own conclusions from the information they gather, and adjust their plans accordingly.

The duck has come around again lads. Time for me to set the required sacrifices.

I can hug you! And I WILL!

@crownamedblue @toastedpotatoes @stargazer-luna

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