Shame, Shame, Shame, The Scourge of a Perfect Nation. (To Rid of It With Poison.) TW IN TAGS.
The new democracy of Okos II saw Marlin as more of a nuisance. An annoyance and remnant of the old era of Partition. Marlin was regarded as no longer useful to their cause, a former relic of the past representing violence.
His angelic face, was now a deep mar upon the nation's pride. He was once referred to as the most "beautiful man" in the world, a mastermind of propaganda and media image. Presently, the man was only a shell reduced to a precautionary tale, a warning of what the Okosian rulers were willing to do to its people in order to survive. Saint Marlin had been an offering on a silver platter, to the avaricious, lecherous pig-men of the Chiendra bourgeoisie. His personhood, identity, and self, all stripped away and violated for a decade's worth of faux peace.
He represented rebellion to the new era, the question of who, and what, and why, questions that were destabilising and unpatriotic. His original use was to uplift the nation, to keep it together by moralising and rallying for The Cause but now? He only became the face of the question "What is a nation?" and "What is the purpose of a distrustful government?". And for that unintentional consequence, the nation punished Marlin by deeming the him a lusting whore who sold out his country, an ultimate traitor whom is to be blamed for all the faults of the nation. Yet again, the Saint's final use was a smeared smokescreen to cowardly appease, this time to allies instead of enemies, carried out by a guilty government, who's finger's always pointed at all but themselves.
But shame, shame, shame, it rings out like a deafening church bell through the nation haunting it, lingering like the miasmic radiation of Yavrillia. It remains in the forsaken places in the South where fear and hunger mutates, blooming into a horrific amalgamation of human suffering. The legacy of humiliation lives on in the existence of Saint Marlin, a tortured martyr who's eternal damnation came down to the fact that his body was simply one that used to be a woman.
(And so Abraham handed his son to a merciless God with little hesitance to obey, to worship a thing, an entity who sought out more destruction and devastation than any human, than any nation alive. -Tzipora Hórvath, on the Diary and Life of My Brother, Marlin Hórvath.)
