Listen. It is your right to be a little freak. The loss of eccentricity due to the values of late stage capitalism is a fucking bane to all levels of existence, and to do your duty to yourself, and all future generations of the earth, you need to be a little freak. In our current society, through many many ways across many many demographics, they try to trap you with little freak licensure. This can be in the form of accommodations, as one example, and all other manner of "oh they have X, I guess we'll allow this person their right to be a little freak." Fuck that. Fucking infiltrate the system cosplaying the most societally accepted version of yourself, then fucking let your weirdo tendencies shine as soon as you are able, especially if they can't get rid of you. We can't afford the loss of eccentrics and weirdos and strange characters and we're seeing this loss so heavily across our world, within the workforce, being one example today. Think of how many artists are so eccentric, but were replaced by people palatable to the system. Think of how many innovations have come from the little freaks of the world. Think how much better your life is when you don't have to censor your quirks and things that make you a fucking person. Don't let respectability politics lure you into the trap of getting a "cushy" freak license, the people in this world who expect the licensure to be a freak would prefer your death to your continued accommodation if they could choose. No matter how much you play up the idea that you're not as much of a freak as the rest of the people similar to you, they will still berate you and leave you for dead once they've killed us off.
Can I offer a protective Allan in these trying times?
CW: Being a burden/annoying
WC: 505
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Sakharine scoffed. “That idiotic and obstinate mindset of yours will land you at the bottom of the sea.” His tone turned sweet, persuasive. “Come now, be sensible! A man like Allan does not have the patience to have a child following him around asking questions. He has no time for such annoying burdens.”
Allan expected another sharp remark. Maybe even physical violence, as Shadow had shown an affinity for both. But Shadow’s response was far more sickening and left a hollow ache deep in Allan’s chest.
Shadow flinched.
Allan exchanged a glance with Tom, who stared back with a mix of pain and anger.
Guess I know one of her weaknesses now.
Allan felt no triumph in the revelation, just a sinking feeling in the pit in his stomach. He despised empty victories, and this was certainly one of those.
“Enough,” he growled.
He tried pulling Shadow back into him, hoping to offer some comfort. Some reassurance that that wasn’t how he viewed her at all.
But Shadow jerked out of his grip, heading for the door and shoving Tom out of the way as the man tried to comfort her. The door slammed behind her, Tom wincing at the sound.
“Tom,” Allan ordered. “Keep an eye on her.”
Tom nodded and quickly left the room, yelling Shadow’s name.
Allan turned to Sakharine, itching to drive his fist through the man’s skull or maybe put a bullet through it. “What the fuck was that about?” he spat.
Sakharine threw him a scornful look. “Mind you tongue-“
“Mind your own,” Allan interrupted. “Shadow is not a burden to me, or anyone else on this crew!” His voice rose, white-hot anger burning just beneath his skin. “You have no right to treat her like that because you’re pissy that she doesn’t trip over herself trying to appease you!”
“Look at that, the mutineer has a soft spot,” Sakharine sneered. He prodded Allan with his cane, the blade still sheathed but the threat still very much present. “Mind how you speak. That girl may know the events, but she doesn’t know the location of the treasure. Any loyalty to her or faith in her is misguided and ill-placed.”
Allan stepped forward, and felt a deep sense of satisfaction as fear flickered in Sakharine’s eyes and the older man staggered back. “Don’t think for a second I won’t kill you,” he warned, voice now deadly soft. “Don’t think for a second your money or status makes you invulnerable. I could give the word and my crew would tear apart without hesitation.” His next words scarcely rose above a whisper. “While you’re still alive.”
“Get… get away from me,” Sakharine choked out, the crack in his voice destroying any visage of bravery.
“You may control the money, and the law, but you do not control me.” Allan straightened and turned away. “You would do well to remember that, boss.” Spitting the last word like poison, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door so hard the window shattered.
