Well, it's WIP Wednesday and I'm feeling brave or reckless so here is a WIP.
They say the key is to keep creating so here I am with whatever the hell is this.
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“Nice of you to save me, then,” Verso said before taking a sip of his lukewarm champagne, hiding his smirk behind the golden rim of the glass.
“Oh, you naïve little thing, I’m not here to save you, I’m here to deliver a message from our common friends in Lumière.”
Well, Verso hadn’t actually been so naïve to think he could escape that talk. It was just going to be one more unpleasant thing in an already unpleasant evening.
Lumière was the little town, two hours north-west of Paris, where the Dessendres’ vacation home was situated. It was there that Verso had escaped after the debacle with Julie, about a year prior. He’d been there, tangled in warm sheets and a warmer embrace, when his father died trying to save his little sister from the fire that—
“Let’s hear it then,” Verso muttered, stealing himself. Simon made a gesture of head, leading him toward the balcony on the corner. The captain’s presence and a pointed look was enough to make the two young people flirting against the railing go away in a flurry of giggles.
Simon offered Verso one of his foul cigarettes, that the man refused with a grimace. Instead, he took out his pipe, a small one of polished cherry tree and ebony, with a golden band to seal the two parts. It was deceptively simple, and one of his father’s favorites that he’d pilfered in a childish bout of anger earlier that day. He took his sweet time preparing the tobacco under his best friend’s indulgent smile. When he was all set, he turned toward Simon with an inquiring look.
“You are, I quote, an asshole and you are kindly required to apologise to Gustave at your earlier convenience, or else.”
“Or else?” Verso repeated with an amused smile.
“It wasn’t specified,” Simon replied with his own smirk. “But I can tell you she was serious.”
She, meaning Lune or Emma. Sciel, with her neverending empathy, was probably feeling sorry for him instead of the indignation of her two friends.
Verso sighed, puffing the heavy tobacco smoke in the chilly air of December.
“I might not have been the most gracious when I…ended things. With him.”
“You did not ‘end things’ Vers’,” Simon snorted, “If the retelling I was told is true, then you were an asshole and you need to apologise.”
Simon was a very loyal friend, a trait Verso appreciated because he’d very few of them and tended to be… difficult to like in the long run. The fact he was taking Gustave’s defense was a sign Verso had fucked up pretty badly.
Verso grunted, shifted to lean against the banister, refusing to look at his friend.
“Not my finest moment, I’ll admit to that. But I had mitigating circumstances, and he was being extremely pushy.”
Simon rolled his light gray eyes and blew his smoke with a derisive sound.
“You mean when he was trying to offer comfort and affection after your family went through a terrible loss? How dare he?!”
“Fuck you,” Verso deadpanned.
“Hm, your sister got there first,” Simon shot back, guffawing at Verso’s disgusted expression. “But seriously, mon ami, you fucked up badly and you need to make things right, or you’ll regret it. And I’m not speaking about the girls plotting your demise while drinking cheap gin. I mean you will feel sorry for yourself.”
Verso rolled his neck, trying to release the tension. This conversation was grating on his nerves.
“Drop it, Simon. It’s not like I’ll ever get back there.”
The other man ashed his cigarette over the bannister with a disgruntled sound.
“Why not?”
“Are you kidding? With what happened, my place is here, in Paris, with Clea and Alicia. He was… a fun distraction, but it was always just physical.”
“Doubtful.”
“What do you know, huh? I said it was nothing serious.”
“Oh, I think I know, Vers’. I think he saw under the mask and that terrified you, so you tried to bolt, and when that didn’t work, you lashed out.”
The problem with friends, close friends, is that they perfectly knew where and how to throw their punches for maximum damage. Simon’s words landed like a blade through his innards, but Verso was a pro when it came to walking off grievous injuries. He smiled, sharp and dangerous, a clear signal to back off.
Simon raised his hand in surrender with a huff.
“Don’t bite me,” he joked, before turning toward the street below, giving Verso a moment to gather himself. He finished his cigarette before speaking again in a soothing voice.
“I like Gustave, he’s a good guy. Reliable, kind, funny. Generous to a fault. You don’t deserve half his attention, but for reasons none of us can explain, he decided to grace you with his affection. There won’t be many like him that can take your bullshit and see it for what it is.”
He flicked his cigarette in the ashtray strategically positioned in the corner of the bannister, and went to the door. There, he paused, and gave his friend a hard look: “You can’t afford to wallow in self pity anymore, or drown in regrets and trauma, Vers’. Your sisters need you, your mother needs you. And you need someone you can return to, someone to be your safe harbor. I’m that person for Clea, and Gustave could be yours. Now, I’ll say this only one but I expect you to understand how serious I am: You might not want him, but you sure as hell will respect him. Apologize, Verso.”
Verso watched him go back inside, the crowd of ladies and gentlemen parting naturally in front of his path, and fluttering back in position afterward. A soft, gentle disappearance into the light, leaving Verso in the cold and the dark.
Note about this: I decided to write this while another of my (nearly) completed work is being reviewed by my eternal friend, for a niche ship because damn, I missed the feeling of being three in a sandbox.
I might need encouragement to continue, or maybe not cause this already has four chapter and over 10k words and going somewhere, but where exactly, no one knows.
« The reason these colonial wars take a long time is that it’s the aggressor who needs to come to the conclusion that the attack was a mistake. Possibly, the Russians are already there. But they also have to conclude that the cost in blood and treasure is not worth the objective. They’re clearly not there yet. It usually also takes a change of team, unfortunately. And we have no indications of it, which is why the war is continuing. I think we should have a base scenario of some more years. If we get a solution earlier, that would be a bonus. »
— Poland's Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski in conversation with editor Ravi Agrawal at Foreign Policy. (archived)
One thing which many people don't get is that Russia's invasion of Ukraine is a neo-colonialist war.
Some leaders in South and Southeast Asia, Africa, and Latin America give Russia a mulligan because Russia didn't have colonies in their regions. They fail to notice that Russia's colonies have been in the "near abroad" – Eastern Europe, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. Those areas are NOT natural parts of Russia which was just a principality called Muscovy about the size of Denmark at its inception.
As with any colonial war, the imperialist aggressor will keep wasting lives and resources until it belatedly reaches the conclusion that the cost of the war is too high. This can take a while because of the pigheadedness of the leader(s) of the aggressor country.
The US War of Independence lasted from 1775 until a de facto ceasefire in 1781.
Portugal kept fighting wars in its African colonies 18 years after France and Britain began the process of decolonization on the continent. It took the democratic revolution of 1974 in Portugal, with its overthrow of a quasi-fascist régime, to bring the troops home from the now former colonies.
So nobody should expect a quick and easy victory for Ukraine against the former colonial power which is foolishly attempting to subjugate it once again. Driving up the price which Russia has to pay for this geopolitical mistake is the most reliable way to bring this war to an end.
King Philip's War was a war between the English colonists and the Native Americans in New England in the late 17th century. It was a brief but deadly war with a timeline that spans only a few years. The following is a timeline of King Philip's War: 1662: In July,…
Capitaine Jean Graziani, born in Algeria in the same town Albert Camus was born. Joined the US Army at the age of 16 in 1942 after allied forces landed in Algeria before being kicked out because of his age. Joined the French resistance, shipping him to Scotland to be trained as an SAS demolition specialist before being parachuted in occupied France to delay the German retreat of 1944, destroying bridges, railways and sabotaging a hundred phone lines. He will serve in the 3rd BCCP paratrooper regiment in Indochina, leading a commando unit behind enemy lines before being captured by the Viet Minh during an attempt to rescue an encircle column of the 1st Foreign Parachute Battalion. He will stay 4 years in a prisoner camp despite two escapes attempts, his last enabling hime to sail 60km along the Song Gain river on a makeshift raft. He would later be assigned to a counter-insurgency unit in Algeria where he will be killed on January 6, 1959 after being hit with submachine gun fire in the guts during an operation in Kabylie. He had enough time to give his watch to a good friend of him during his helicopter transfer. The journey of this shock troop officer pictures very well the journey of many French officers during the post WW2 colonial wars and their ambiguity. Often pulled from the ranks of the resistance to fight tyranny, they ressorted to the same techniques to maintain France's grasp on its colonial empire. Many of them ended in jail or as outcasts, torn and disabused by their experience of violence mixed with politics and the slow decay of their empire and youth ideals.
c.1953
Conceived as an air-transportable light tank armed with a high-velocity autoloading gun, the AMX-13 first entered service in 1953 with the French Army. Designed to mount the FL-10 oscillating turret, initial production vehicles instead mounted the M24 Chaffee’s turret due to the former not yet being ready for mass production. Later driver training versions of the AMX-13 would also mount the M24 turret, although with the gun removed.
