WHO: Faith Hyland and Marty Solverson WHAT: A Remnant of Aesop and a Hand of Grimm walk into a bar... WHERE: Lion & Stag. WHEN: Thursday Happy Hour. WARNINGS: Mentions of alcohol, light language.
“And they still haven’t told you why?” Faith pulled her latest whiskey sour closer to her. “I mean, I know they tried to pull this whole ‘budget cuts’ bullshit, but have they really not been able to give you a better reason? Like...a real reason?”
“Nope. Nothing.” Going drinking after work wasn’t something he’d done a lot of since he’d started teaching self defense at Faith’s gym, but at the end of today’s session, it had seemed like the right time. “Not even a response to Noel -- Professor Hu’s letter.” He shrugged, as if to suggest that he’d moved past it. But that was a lie.
“That’s bullshit. I always thought Cabrera was better than that. ...Although, now that I think about it, I have no idea why.” The ice in her glass clinked together as she took another swallow. “Is it like...a Tale Prejudice thing? I mean...seems kinda coincidental that it happened right around the time a bunch of people got outed against their will because of whatever was in the water that week…”
Marty lifted his own glass to his lips before answering. “Tale Prejudice?” He had seen the idea discussed at the time and even if he knew that it wasn’t the case, it was still better to play along. “Like, maybe Cabrera can’t stand Robin Hood, or Tales who were technically on the wrong side of the law…?”
“Both, possibly. I mean...what other justification is there for firing all the Robin Hood people at the same time? Maybe it’s a hate for the Tale, or maybe it’s a hate for what the Tale represents--you know, that sort of irreverent, grr, fuck the law, rob the king, yeahhhh, that whole deal.” She wiggled her fingers through the air, as if conjuring an image of what she meant. “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, right? In comes Cabrera, the new King of Academia, and he looks around and sees a whole swath of former con artist Tales on his staff… The argument’s there.”
“Harry never struck me as that kind of -- well, overzealous Traditionalist.” Marty sighed, raising his eyebrows slightly at Faith’s depiction of the core issues in his Tale. It was time to move away from the topic of Harry and onto a broader issue “-- but who the fuck knows, people judge others by their Tales every day around here.”
Faith squinted one eye in a sort of sideways grimace. “Mmm, I think you’re conflating two different things here. That’s just assholeism. That’s not really--I mean, I guess that’s a version of Traditionalism, if you’re also an asshole. But firing people based on their Tale, that’s… That’s just being a prejudiced piece of shit.”
Marty squinted back as he set down his glass. “It is a version, it’s the version I’ve had the most experience with, but what’s that thing they say. About how people with the most extreme views are always the loudest?”
“Well, that’s the fucked part, right? Like, the point of Traditionalism isn’t like, ‘Oh, shit, let’s go fire all the people whose Tales we don’t like,’ or, ‘Oh man, that guy was a villain in his story, I bet he’s a dick, let’s beat him up.’ That’s just the shitty version that gets on the news because that’s the loudest--like you said. Meanwhile, there are people out there like Tulio del Bosque who just want to get stoked on their Tale and sign autographs for little kids who liked the Disney versions and...find their friends from back in the day.” She elected not to mention the recent conversation with Gia, not knowing whether Gia had shared any of this information with her father. “The Homelands day. Whatever day that was.”
“No offense intended,” and for once he almost meant it, “But even the ‘nice’ ones -- seem to have weird areas of bias sometimes. For example, the idea that you’re not honoring your Tale if you’re not loud and open about it.” He spoke in a conversational tone, “Then again, I was never a fan of my Disney version.”
“Hey, at least you got a Disney version. Some of our stories are apparently not ‘cute’ enough to get animated.” No, she wasn’t bitter, why would you ask? “And for the record--and I guess, you know, it’s probably been made pretty clear, but I do consider myself a ‘Traditionalist,’ and I do think there are ways to honor your Tale without being open or loud about it--like, I think everybody has their own way of doing it, and how you do it has to be your call. I think there are some shitty self-proclaimed Traditionalists out there who make it really hard for people to feel like honoring their Tale is an option, or who have this like...tendency to put pressure on people to treat their Tale a certain way. Like, I don’t believe it’s reasonable to assume anyone who was married in their Tale should marry in real life, obviously, that is dumb, and I have no desire to find my Tale husband--but I do think it’s my job to honor my heritage and my story and to use the powers I have to be helpful to the community, you know, that sort of Captain America bullshit.”
Marty shook his head, “I still don’t know how they got ‘cute’ out of mine.” By disregarding most of the source material, of course, but that was the easy answer. She had points, good ones even but there was usually that one issue that got skipped over. “You’ve made it very clear, and everything you’re saying makes sense. But I tend to think, if people don’t identify with their Tale, they’re not obligated to honor it in any way. We’re all just people -- if some of us feel an obligation to our stories, that’s great. Just don’t push that obligation onto anyone else.”
“No, that’s fair. Completely. I mean...I feel like providing opportunities to get in touch with your Tale might be a better option, so people have a chance to figure out what level of identification they have with their background...but I hear you, I hear you. I guess it’s easy to forget not every Tale is as badass as mine.” She downed the rest of her drink in time to pass the empty glass back to the bartender for a refill. “For example: I bet you fifty bucks I can drink Marty Solverson under the table.”
There was yet another shake of the head as he waited while she downed her drink. A challenge like that would get them further than any discussion on beliefs and politics, and part of him was tired of constantly debating things.