It was the hand that had previously had the flax in it. Cruelty could see the reddened spot on her fingertip where it had been pulled free.
But that wasn't why Talia was presenting it. She hesitated, even knowing the reason, then grumbled wordlessly. She shoved her own hand against Talia's, grabbed her hand loosely.
Talia wound their fingers together. It was the first time she had felt Talia's hand move in hers, the first time Talia had been able to move her body under her own power against Cruelty to do something like this.
Cruelty tightened her grip and closed her eyes, just holding on.
Chapter Fifteen
Even when all the remaining Archetypes were gathered into Great Hall, it didn't seem to be many people at all. After how full the place had been packed recently, it hardly felt occupied in the slightest. It was left in a bit of a mess with the remains of that many people living in one place, eating and sleeping and all the rest, but the clutter only made it feel emptier. Cruelty found it impossible not to think how few people had even been in here in the grand scheme of things—just a couple hundred, and not all of them staying in the castle. Comparing it to their own numbers, things felt futile. A mere fistful of stories trying to force that tiny drop in the ocean to make a difference.
Talia had called them all together, explained the situation as it stood in front of them: herself, beauty awakened; Cruelty's decision to help her (Cruelty waved that one away as carelessly as she could); the plan as discussed: to wait a day in order to let people leave the gate area to not be drawn back in, then bring new people in. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Donkeyskin let out a blunt bray of a laugh, raising her hand. She'd just had a finger up her nose and her fingertip glistened. Cruelty tried not to make a face, glanced at Talia, and saw her doing the same. "Look," Donkeyskin said, in that rough, straightforward way of hers. "We agreed to go along with this plan because it ain't like it was gonna hurt us none, least not more than we already hurting. And obviously somethin' is happenin' somehow or you wouldn't have changed. Buuuut if you got any sign that this plan is actually workin', it'd make me feel a whole lot better."
There were murmurs of agreement. Sixth, who Cruelty couldn't help but notice was sitting between the swan that was Odette and the woman who was Odile, spoke up. "At the least, we know that what we are trying to do has been progressing quite a bit more quickly with Lady Cruelty's kind assistance, but it's hard not to feel somewhat nervous not knowing whether the plan itself has any meaning. It's certainly possible that they may dismiss it all as a bad dream. While I agree there's little we can do but continue on our path, and also agree that sending them back together will raise the probability that they will know someone else out there believes their experience… If there is any way we can follow up on their return, help encourage this, rather than only continue doing the same things…?"
"Is it enough?" Odile spoke up in soft agreement, laying her hand on Sixth's wing. Cruelty watched as Odette's head tilted so she could watch her. "Was their absence even noted?"
"That it definitely was," Cruelty said. "Disappearances were all over the news when I checked. The number might not be impressive in the face of the overall populace, but the number in that short amount a time was."
"The news?" Odile asked. "So information is being spread?"
"Yes," Cruelty said. "Because of population sizes, getting news out to everyone is kind of a thing that cities put an emphasis on. There are a lot of different ways to get local news to everyone without going in person, and the disappearances are sort of a hot breaking story. So their reappearances will definitely be noted too, and we can hope it will do some good for us."
"Human communication," the Cat said, and yawned. "Well, if they'll communicate it on their own, that's good."
Talia hmmed. She was sitting on the throne; it was her place, but more likely she wasn't at all used to standing for long periods of time. "It's a good point that we didn't consider. Cruelty is somewhat up on modern technology, but I'm sure even she doesn't share the same point of view as a human in how to pass information back and forth."
"I wouldn't say I don't," Cruelty muttered. "But you're right that I'm not human. I don't focus attention on the same things even if I live with them. I thought to check the news, but of course I didn't try to communicate things to anyone myself. I didn't even think to try to do so."
The Beast drew himself up with a wet slither, clearing mucus from his throat. "If… I may suggest it," he began, and the visible patches of human skin on his face colored slightly. "There is a human still in the realm, one somewhat familiar with our plans, as he is bound to me for the time being."
"He?" Sixth asked, curious.
"That is how it is," the Beast said. "Is that a problem?"
"Well no, it's simply a bit nontraditional."
"Tradition is all well and good," the Beast murmured. "Nevertheless, this is how it is."
There was no aggression in the response, at least, and none in the eyes or expression of anyone around. But Cruelty suspected they were going through the same thoughts she had when she had first talked to Martin; the same shift of realization that there were perhaps areas that they, as Archetypes, didn't reach. Brother Deer huffed softly, and shook his head, antlers swaying.
"Well, I think that's a great idea," Cruelty said. "Martin certainly could give us the perspective we don't have. Go and fetch him, will you?"
The Beast bowed his head with a bob and slid out the door. There was a moment of silence, and then Sixth said, "Well, isn't that something."
Talia smiled, tapping the arm of her chair. "It's a story in progress, theirs is. I couldn't say how it will end up, but aren't I myself a sign that things could be changing? That there's room for us to fill other roles than the one we have been? In fact, I also—"
Cruelty realized that she was intending to bring them up before Talia could finish it, and hurriedly stepped up. It wasn't the concept that she had any problem with so much as the idea of hearing Talia couch it in terms of some kind of relationship in front of everyone else. "Right, yes, Beauty, a sign of change. Bully for you, but not terribly relevant for the rest of us. Anyway, I do think Martin will be a help to us regardless of how that story ends up going. He's smart, and he looks at his own situation pretty evenly, and he seems to kind of understand how things are with us. We don't need to pretend to be his helpful saviors or anything. He knows our guilt and he sympathizes with us anyway."
The conversation rolled away a little, people discussing among themselves, and Cruelty glanced aside to see Talia giving her a thoughtful, dangerous expression. Talia had absolutely caught her cutting that off, and was probably pretty tempted to speak up about it anyway. There was something on her face both a threat and a challenge.
Cruelty shrugged at her and wrinkled her nose. "What?" she muttered to Talia, under the noise of conversation. "It's not like we're dating."
"You're really the worst," Talia said with a sigh. "One of these days, you'll run yourself in a corner so far you won't have anywhere to go."
The Beast showed up again before Cruelty could quite come up with an idea of how to respond to that—it was a bit hard to show scorn when she'd actually felt a shiver of ice water in her veins. Martin was on the Beast's back, clinging to the knobs and hairy protrusions there to keep himself from being bucked off by the Beast's unsteady gait, his rising and falling movement. He slid off once they were in, looking around at the gathered crowd of Archetypes with a sort of wary awe.
"Ah," he said, a little wobbly, from either intimidation or the awkward trip over. He cleared his throat, then continued. "Hi? The Beast filled me in on the way over."
Donkeyskin let out a piercing whistle, and slapped her thigh. "My," she crowed, grinning out through tangled hair at the Beast. "Haven't you landed yourself a handsome one?"
Martin's skin tone didn't easily show his flush, but it was pretty apparent from the way he started fidgeting more, tugging at a shirt sleeve. "Thanks," he
said. "I think. Maybe not. I thought you wanted me here for actual questions? A human perspective on things? Not to be a centerpiece, I hope."
"And he's not a pushover! Even better," Donkeyskin said, and nudged Brother Deer, who looked at her with a deer's startled awkwardness.
Cruelty took mercy on him. "Right," she said. "If the Beast filled you in, you probably have a good idea where to start, but: if we wanted to follow up on making sure people were talking to each other about this and not just covering it up, where would we start?"
Martin let out a slow breath, considering. "So as I understand it," he said, "the goal here is that you guys want to be sure that your story, your existence, is being represented. You need some kind of belief at a broad level. Am I right?"
He was met with general murmurs of agreement. "That's right," Talia said.
"And the main reason you guys were bringing people like me here—" this with a wry smile, a little strained, "—was to give people a tangible reason to believe in you, in... stories as having a sort of ideal reality outside of themselves." More nodding again, some a bit awkwardly. "But no matter how many you bring in, it's going to be peanuts compared to Earth's actual population. So, you need to make sure that they're talking to people who weren't taken, and actually convincing them that there's a possibility of this being real and not some bizarre mass hallucination."
Cruelty raised her hand politely, lips twitching a little as she saw Martin recognize the gesture.
"Yes, you by the throne," he said, clearly unable to resist following up on it.
"I saw that the absences were all over the news, so I'm sure the story will get followed up on now they've returned," Cruelty said. "The similarity between their cases will most certainly be noticed, but that's where we're sort of stuck. We can hope it sparks belief, but the reason we dragged you over here was that we don't know how to ensure it does."
Martin nodded. "It's a good question," he said. "You want to make it go viral—get it spread around to a large number of people. But why something goes viral is hard to predict. Now, I imagine you'll get a number of conspiracy theories regardless, which, if I'm really understanding how you guys work, should help. But they may be somewhat undirected, and what you want is something a little more specific than that. I'm not sure I can give it to you, but... all right, how much do you guys understand about the media and social media?"
"Why do you think we called you over?" Donkeyskin snorted.
He rubbed the back of his neck, pinching a little. "Right," he said. "Okay. What you have to understand is that large parts of the world are supersaturated with media. The big cities definitely are, and I believe that's mostly where you've been getting people from. News and entertainment are available to millions of people anywhere, twenty-four-seven. Big news from Italy can hit America within five, ten minutes of breaking, both through big official outlets and through social media. That's when people put the items online themselves. A popular TV show that gets released in Japan may stream simultaneously to countries around the world. Even with novels, you rarely have to find a store that has a copy anymore; you can either order it online or download an electronic copy and read right away."
Cruelty nodded. "Ebooks are convenient," she said. "A lot of stuff around getting this out is convenient. It's why I think the news probably will spread?"
"It might," Martin said. "But a celebrity accidentally flashing a boob will make bigger headlines; the supposed mass hallucinations of a few hundred people around the world will hit page two or three at best. And they won't be written to encourage belief—rather they'll be written to keep skepticism intact. A news outlet needs to protect its reputation as hard truth; it won't suggest that maybe fairy tales are real. Now, because of the inundation with media, most people have developed a strong sense of what's called 'suspension of disbelief.'"
"The awareness that something's fictional," Cruelty said, more for everyone else's benefit.
"Right. The default state is disbelief in fictional things. We have news all the time telling us—in a biased way, but telling us nevertheless—how the world is, both to show it and to shape perception. We also have entertainment thrown at us all the time. It's not a bad thing, but it's taught us different ways to engage with this sort of thing. One is to approach something as if it's real, and the other is to approach something as if it's fictional while imagining what it would be like if it were real. That's suspension of disbelief. If we don't think something's real, we can enjoy pretending it is, but that's as far as it goes."
Talia worried at her lower lip, twirling her hair around her fingers. "I don't think that'll necessarily be a bad thing... I mean, any degree of improvement is improvement..."
"But we need to increase that as much as possible, do we not?" Sixth said.
"Right," Martin said again. "And I think there are a few possible avenues to explore. Nothing is a guarantee, but all of them might be able to help a little. Obviously the main barriers you want to get past are," he held up fingers, "number one, making people want to believe, and number two, giving them enough material to make your truth seem more plausible than, say, a weird cult with drug-induced delusions."
He seemed a little more lively now, gesturing with his hands as he talked, drawing himself up straighter. Cruelty, curious, glanced at the Beast; his rolling eyes were still, focusing on that darting movement, and he had his sets of hands folded against his body.
"It'll be difficult to appeal to the mainstream in regards to the first," Martin said. "Straight up. There's children you could probably get, and I won't underplay that value? When children see something they want to believe in, they believe wholeheartedly for a while. But the people in power want to remain in power; it may or may not be conscious, but there's a pretty strong impetus to maintain the status quo. Believe me on that. Civil rights issues alone—anyway, that's not the thing on the table here. What you could try to do instead is try to grab the unrepresented." He gestured to himself. "Gay black man here, I've mentioned it before to Cruelty, but there weren't exactly a lot of fairy tales growing up where I could think 'that's me'. Lots of fairy tales are kind of exclusionary. You're Beauty, right?"
The last to Talia, who inclined her head. "That's right, though I have a name. Talia."
"And it's not that you're not beautiful, but when you've got someone literally called 'Beauty' and she's represented as white and blond, and the word 'fair' both means pale and pretty, there's a hell of a lot of kids out there who don't feel beautiful," Martin said. "So that's what I mean about exclusionary. When you can find the way to grab the people who want something like that to look toward, you'll have people wanting to believe it. And that's going to be difficult, with this group around, but you might have a chance. I mean, fairy tales have a lot of stuff which could speak to people who need to be spoken to. Lots of people escaping abuse or tricking their abusers, dealing with rape and incest and all that."
"Could say a thing or two about that," Donkeyskin said.
"Those are people who need some hope," Martin said. "Examine the angles of your life like that. Stories about dealing with grief are universal. Speaking of which—there have to be other folkloric spirits too, right? From other countries?"
"There are," Talia said, hesitantly. "But we don't have many connections with them. A lot of our stories overwrote them, or were told alongside them."
"Worth a shot if you can find any. You don't want to just force what you have on people—you want to give them something of their own. Cultural stories can do that, so maybe eventually try to meet up with those other ones, work something out. Maybe that's irrelevant with your situation right now, though." He sighed, shook his head, continued. "Now, I don't know how you can appeal to these people, but when you bring in more humans, talk to them about your stories. Bring up these angles. Sympathize with them. Make them want to be like you, like all those little girls want to be Disney Princesses. If your story can change to include them more, play up those angles, so when they go b
ack they don't just believe out of trauma but hope too."
That met some silence. Then Cruelty clapped, laughing softly. "Good job," she said. "Nice. We didn't do much of that, did we? Aim for that with the next batch, everyone."
Marlinchen, endless tears as always streaming down her face and a gold bird on her shoulder, said, "I-is bringing up tragedy—will that really help?"
"Hiding it won't," Martin said. "Sharing tragedy is a human experience."
"What about the other option?" Talia said, after a few moments of silence. "Trying to make it more plausible to them."
Martin seemed almost nervous all of a sudden, fidgeting, pulling at his sleeves as he straightened up a little. "Right," he said. "Okay, hear me out. I know showing yourselves is dangerous, right? Because people will fear you. The Beast has said that's why a lot of you stuck around here, that sometimes you just wanted to stick with your home, but a lot of times it was—well look, I see a guy with a swan arm there, so, yeah. But you're going to want some kind of public appearance. Not everyone just believes what they see, but nobody believes what they don't see. If they don't see it, they have no way of sharing those experiences. Preferably you want to do it in a way a lot of people can see at once, and do it in a way that they wouldn't be expecting it to be a performance, so they aren't already suspending disbelief."
"It is dangerous," Cruelty said. "I've witnessed people getting taken away for it. Not sure what happens to them after. Government experimentation, I assume."
"I know, you mentioned. I'm not suggesting you stick around. Go there, show yourself, leave. Or rather, I... think we should show the world some magic. I think we should break a curse in public." He turned, looking at the Beast.
The Beast looked suddenly extremely dubious, rearing up, fingers grasping at each other more strongly. "I—we do not have—you do not feel that way toward me."
"But," Martin pressed, smiling at him warmly, as if to take the sting away "the person who put the spell on you could break it, right?"
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