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Listed in Folders
Shàonǚ and Ozzy understand how American society both shapes and is shaped by its history.
📻🎶
Original artwork by:
AgonWolfe
Original story by:
CSBernard03
CAMPFIRES WERE LIT and the volunteers assembled on the field. The encampment was alive with uniformed personnel as they moved about. Some were in the midst of drills as they practiced the manual of arms, others were crowded over barrels and crates as they ate and played card games. There was a general sense of camaraderie and enjoyment as the assembly milled about. One uniformed volunteer was not as convivial, however.
“Well, it’s safe to say that nobody in the Union Army was above a C-cup,” Aušrinė Haakonsdotter groused. She gave up on the tunic buttons as her jacket refused to close over her buxom chest.
“It could be worse,” Lóng Shǔ Shàonǚ tried to interject positively.
“Yeah, I’m going to doubt that,” the unicorn bluntly replied as she fastened the belt buckle over her trousers. “I honestly don’t know how you talked me into this.”
Shàonǚ smiled, “Well, you enjoy cosplay, I reasoned that this shouldn’t be very different.”
To which Aušrinė quipped, “Cosplayers are already annoying enough about ‘authenticity.’ Historical reenactment crowds are worse.”
Undeterred, Shàonǚ remarked, “Try as they might to argue otherwise, female combatants have been in every conflict since the beginning of recorded history. No amount of misogyny will ever erase that contribution.”
“Well, true. But boys can be such whiny bitches about it,” Aušrinė sighed.
“I didn’t say they weren’t,” Shàonǚ snickered while she patted her companion’s arm.
The mouse’s good humor was infectious. Aušrinė smiled and scoffed despite herself. With that, the pair ventured from the dressing area to the wider campgrounds.
Before long, the two Union reenactors found some of their compatriots in conference with their Confederate opposites. The men leisurely waved their arms around as they gestured over the campground and surrounding area. The mouse and unicorn instantly recognized one of the Union reenactors as the organizer that arranged their enrollment into the day’s events.
“Holy hell,” the organizer’s Confederate counterpart blurted out as the women neared them. “I didn’t think you were serious when you said you had a couple of women in your group.”
“Frank, I told you they would be here,” the Union organizer remarked as he glanced at the women in question.
“Well, I thought you meant they would be nurses or sutlers,” Frank responded. “I didn’t think you meant in uniform.”
“Or out of it,” smirked a gray-coated lieutenant beside Frank. He cast a sly glance to Aušrinė’s open tunic.
The unicorn did not reply right away. But her scowl and the hands on her hips were enough to quiet the amused commentator. This still drew the organizer’s attention to her.
“Ozzie,” he said with concern, “weren’t they able to get your uniform fitted?”
“Yeah,” they let this thing out twice and said they couldn’t tailor a custom-fit in time. It’s fine, whatever. I’m wearing my sports bra.”
“Well, that’s not period accurate,” the organizer ventured.
“Jim,” Aušrinė soured, “I am not wearing a bustier or corset under all this.”
Jim cleared his throat, “Okay, okay. Just, uh, be sure to keep that concealed, then.”
“Not to be that kind of guy, but isn’t she a little too far from California?” Shàonǚ tilted her head at the basset hound that had inserted himself into the conversation from behind the Confederate organizer. “I mean, women sneaking into uniform was a thing that happened, yeah. But I don’t remember any Chinese volunteers.”
“Terry, seriously?” Jim huffed with more than a little tiredness in his voice.
“I’m just saying! You might as well have samurai running around out here.”
“Yeah? Well you are being that guy. Samurai were running around at the time,” Aušrinė snapped. “Just not in the US.”
“I’m just going for the authenticity here,” Terry put up his hands defensively. “But! If everyone else is fine with it, that’s cool.”
Jim stood straighter as he drew himself up and explained further, “If I may: I’m aware of the unorthodox circumstances. But the fact is our group was short on, er, manpower.” The momentary break in Jim’s words was enough to let snickers and sighs rustle in the air. “So, we’re lucky to have Shao and Ozzy,” he said as he gestured to the women by turns. “They’ll be helping with the cavalry and artillery demonstrations, respectively.”
“Artillery?” the Confederate cavalry lieutenant beside Frank raised an eyebrow as he sized up the tall, heavy equine. Unable to perceive her horn or hooves, he quipped, “A big girl that likes the big guns, huh?”
Aušrinė glanced over the young man, a greyhound, from his slouch hat to his riding boots and riposted, “More satisfying than some skinny pistol.”
Her words were enough to flip the svelte canine’s ears back, blistered pink from surprise. This and the equine’s biting words sent a wave of amusement through the other Confederates present. The basset scrunched his lips as chuckles rattled through his nostrils, “Damn, Scott…”
Not even Frank could conceal his teeth and respect for the equine as he smiled and shook with silent chortles. Once he got it out of his system, he lazily flashed the palms of his cavalry scout gloves and the middle-aged setter dog banished his doubts, “Alright, Jim. I think we’ve covered it well enough. If these ladies can do the work, then I think we’re ready!”
Jim, an alpine goat, partly bleated in his throat as he cleared it, “Okay, then. Since you say everyone is ready in your troupe, we’ll start at the scheduled time.”
Save for a more muted response from Scott, the small conference broke up amicably and the Confederate representatives returned to their side of the field, more intrigued than they were previously. As they departed, Jim directed the mouse and equine to their respective staging areas. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Shàonǚ ventured.
Aušrinė flared her nostrils with a huff, “They’re dweebs.”
“I won’t contest a dim view of them,” the mouse readily conceded. “But it could have been far worse, based on your earlier assessment.”
The unicorn wrinkled her nose as she walked through camp with her companion, “They’re all from Kentucky. And they’re willing to wear Confederate uniforms. Guarantee we’ll find a bunch of red caps in their cars if we pop out to the parking lot.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, remember that the Union soldiers who actually defended Camp Dennison were able to successfully drive off the Confederates.”
Aušrinė refused to alter her fussy mood, “Yeah? They still got away, though.”
It was at this that Shàonǚ raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side, “I can assure you that ‘getting away’ is rarely as pleasant as the phrase suggests. Especially since Morgan’s men wouldn’t be able to cross back over the river.”
Without a verbal acknowledgment, Aušrinė relented with a flick of her eyes upward and slight shake of her head. She then changed the subject, “How did they find a uniform to fit you? You’re shorter than Phil Sheridan.”
Unashamed, the little sorceress paused to retrieve her Sharps carbine from the cavalry’s stacked arms. She flipped open the breech to make sure that the weapon was unloaded and flipped it closed when she was satisfied it was empty, “They had to modify a drummer boy’s uniform.”
Finally, Aušrinė’s lips spread into a smile, “You’re kidding…”
“You sound like the tailor,” Shàonǚ smiled back.
“Get any jockey jokes?” the unicorn queried amiably.
“Fortunately, no.”
With her mood buoyed, Aušrinė lackadaisically placed her fist on her hip and remarked, “Okay. Let’s get out there and put ideas into little girls’ heads and funny feelings into the pants of middle-age men.”
“Let it not go unsaid you always have noble causes on your mind,” Shàonǚ noted.
“Hey, this whole thing is about emancipation, you know.”
THE CAMP DENNISON reenactment was more of a living history showcase than a full recreation of the skirmish that occurred outside Cincinnati when Confederate forces under John Hunt Morgan launched a diversionary incursion into the Ohio River Valley region in 1863. Morgan’s objective was to force Union leaders to draw away federal soldiers that were needed for the siege of Vicksburg, Mississippi and the battle at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. While Morgan’s cavalry force successfully entered Union territory via Kentucky, local forces offered stiffer resistance than expected. Unable to safely cross back over the Ohio River, Morgan’s Confederates went on the run and attempted to return to the Confederacy via West Virginia, only to be diverted further north and eventually captured at the Ohio-Pennsylvania state line. Though he inflicted some casualties and considerable damage to Union war material, Morgan’s daring raid failed in its main objective to draw away pressure from besieged Vicksburg or the beleaguered Army of Northern Virginia.
For the reenactors, the chance to bring Ohio and Kentucky troupes together to pool resources was a worthwhile endeavor. Though they could not present a full recreation of the clash at the Union military post, they were able to perform drill and maneuvers, offer lectures, and present the tools and weapons of the period – from the campground to the battlefield.
Shàonǚ caught Jim’s attention while he and she were horseback riding in Mount Airy Forest. The ease with which the mouse handled herself in the saddle and the goat’s dire straits after he found himself shorthanded led Jim to inquire if she would perform in the reenactment. Intrigued by the offer, the mouse accepted with little hesitation.
Naturally, when Jim extended the offer to any of her friends that might join her, Shàonǚ’s first thoughts were Javier and Aušrinė. Javier turned the offer, with some regret, due to business obligations. However, it was on a weekend that Aušrinė found herself at home with little to do outside of a few household chores.
For the equine, her general experience around military reenactors was dubious at best. Much of the genre attracted those who were politically neutral, seldom leftist, and often conservative. Which stood to reason. Fortunately, the artillery battery volunteers were more worried they would be unable to participate without an extra gunner than they were worried about the fact their new team member was female. The fact Aušrinė had the strength to pull and push the gun-howitzer’s carriage and caisson as well as proficient knowledge of and experience with gunpowder gave them pause, and not a little concern. But they chose not to further investigate those facts.
Meanwhile, Shàonǚ’s own skills with a rolling block carbine and cap and ball revolvers meant she quickly garnered the attention and intrigue of the cavalry reenactors. When pressed on where she learned how to use such antiquated weapons, reproductions though they were, she simply remarked that she had learned horseback riding and marksmanship from her father. She would then playfully remark that she was better with a bow and arrows. While they outwardly laughed it off, they were inwardly fascinated. Not least because she accurately landed shots from the revolver on watermelons from over 30 meters at full gallop during the rehearsals.
Together, Shàonǚ and Aušrinė found the experience to be a rewarding challenge, but nothing beyond their abilities. Though they were not permitted to use live ammunition, the Union artillery battery added a fearsome presence to the field with its terrific roar. Meanwhile, the cavalry was an impressive spectacle, which included live fire demonstrations that saw the small, agile mouse woman whisk across a target range at breathtaking speed and marksman’s skill, both on horseback with a revolver and on foot with a carbine. All of which delighted the children who were frightened and excited by the smoke and thunder. Meanwhile, the fathers found their attention and imaginations seized by the program’s feminine touch. There were those who tried to disguise reactionary complaints behind prevaricating inquiries were, by turns, given unequivocal answers from the ladies whose presence they “only” wanted to question. What Shàonǚ did not cover through concise examples of known female combatants, Aušrinė rebuffed with plainspoken firmness. Their combined efforts satisfied attendees who were more interested in skill, not idle talk.
📻🎶
Original artwork by:
AgonWolfeOriginal story by:
CSBernard03Camp DennisonIndian Hill, OhioUnited States of AmericaSaturday, 10:30 UTC – 04:00, Daylight Saving TimeCAMPFIRES WERE LIT and the volunteers assembled on the field. The encampment was alive with uniformed personnel as they moved about. Some were in the midst of drills as they practiced the manual of arms, others were crowded over barrels and crates as they ate and played card games. There was a general sense of camaraderie and enjoyment as the assembly milled about. One uniformed volunteer was not as convivial, however.
“Well, it’s safe to say that nobody in the Union Army was above a C-cup,” Aušrinė Haakonsdotter groused. She gave up on the tunic buttons as her jacket refused to close over her buxom chest.
“It could be worse,” Lóng Shǔ Shàonǚ tried to interject positively.
“Yeah, I’m going to doubt that,” the unicorn bluntly replied as she fastened the belt buckle over her trousers. “I honestly don’t know how you talked me into this.”
Shàonǚ smiled, “Well, you enjoy cosplay, I reasoned that this shouldn’t be very different.”
To which Aušrinė quipped, “Cosplayers are already annoying enough about ‘authenticity.’ Historical reenactment crowds are worse.”
Undeterred, Shàonǚ remarked, “Try as they might to argue otherwise, female combatants have been in every conflict since the beginning of recorded history. No amount of misogyny will ever erase that contribution.”
“Well, true. But boys can be such whiny bitches about it,” Aušrinė sighed.
“I didn’t say they weren’t,” Shàonǚ snickered while she patted her companion’s arm.
The mouse’s good humor was infectious. Aušrinė smiled and scoffed despite herself. With that, the pair ventured from the dressing area to the wider campgrounds.
Before long, the two Union reenactors found some of their compatriots in conference with their Confederate opposites. The men leisurely waved their arms around as they gestured over the campground and surrounding area. The mouse and unicorn instantly recognized one of the Union reenactors as the organizer that arranged their enrollment into the day’s events.
“Holy hell,” the organizer’s Confederate counterpart blurted out as the women neared them. “I didn’t think you were serious when you said you had a couple of women in your group.”
“Frank, I told you they would be here,” the Union organizer remarked as he glanced at the women in question.
“Well, I thought you meant they would be nurses or sutlers,” Frank responded. “I didn’t think you meant in uniform.”
“Or out of it,” smirked a gray-coated lieutenant beside Frank. He cast a sly glance to Aušrinė’s open tunic.
The unicorn did not reply right away. But her scowl and the hands on her hips were enough to quiet the amused commentator. This still drew the organizer’s attention to her.
“Ozzie,” he said with concern, “weren’t they able to get your uniform fitted?”
“Yeah,” they let this thing out twice and said they couldn’t tailor a custom-fit in time. It’s fine, whatever. I’m wearing my sports bra.”
“Well, that’s not period accurate,” the organizer ventured.
“Jim,” Aušrinė soured, “I am not wearing a bustier or corset under all this.”
Jim cleared his throat, “Okay, okay. Just, uh, be sure to keep that concealed, then.”
“Not to be that kind of guy, but isn’t she a little too far from California?” Shàonǚ tilted her head at the basset hound that had inserted himself into the conversation from behind the Confederate organizer. “I mean, women sneaking into uniform was a thing that happened, yeah. But I don’t remember any Chinese volunteers.”
“Terry, seriously?” Jim huffed with more than a little tiredness in his voice.
“I’m just saying! You might as well have samurai running around out here.”
“Yeah? Well you are being that guy. Samurai were running around at the time,” Aušrinė snapped. “Just not in the US.”
“I’m just going for the authenticity here,” Terry put up his hands defensively. “But! If everyone else is fine with it, that’s cool.”
Jim stood straighter as he drew himself up and explained further, “If I may: I’m aware of the unorthodox circumstances. But the fact is our group was short on, er, manpower.” The momentary break in Jim’s words was enough to let snickers and sighs rustle in the air. “So, we’re lucky to have Shao and Ozzy,” he said as he gestured to the women by turns. “They’ll be helping with the cavalry and artillery demonstrations, respectively.”
“Artillery?” the Confederate cavalry lieutenant beside Frank raised an eyebrow as he sized up the tall, heavy equine. Unable to perceive her horn or hooves, he quipped, “A big girl that likes the big guns, huh?”
Aušrinė glanced over the young man, a greyhound, from his slouch hat to his riding boots and riposted, “More satisfying than some skinny pistol.”
Her words were enough to flip the svelte canine’s ears back, blistered pink from surprise. This and the equine’s biting words sent a wave of amusement through the other Confederates present. The basset scrunched his lips as chuckles rattled through his nostrils, “Damn, Scott…”
Not even Frank could conceal his teeth and respect for the equine as he smiled and shook with silent chortles. Once he got it out of his system, he lazily flashed the palms of his cavalry scout gloves and the middle-aged setter dog banished his doubts, “Alright, Jim. I think we’ve covered it well enough. If these ladies can do the work, then I think we’re ready!”
Jim, an alpine goat, partly bleated in his throat as he cleared it, “Okay, then. Since you say everyone is ready in your troupe, we’ll start at the scheduled time.”
Save for a more muted response from Scott, the small conference broke up amicably and the Confederate representatives returned to their side of the field, more intrigued than they were previously. As they departed, Jim directed the mouse and equine to their respective staging areas. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Shàonǚ ventured.
Aušrinė flared her nostrils with a huff, “They’re dweebs.”
“I won’t contest a dim view of them,” the mouse readily conceded. “But it could have been far worse, based on your earlier assessment.”
The unicorn wrinkled her nose as she walked through camp with her companion, “They’re all from Kentucky. And they’re willing to wear Confederate uniforms. Guarantee we’ll find a bunch of red caps in their cars if we pop out to the parking lot.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, remember that the Union soldiers who actually defended Camp Dennison were able to successfully drive off the Confederates.”
Aušrinė refused to alter her fussy mood, “Yeah? They still got away, though.”
It was at this that Shàonǚ raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side, “I can assure you that ‘getting away’ is rarely as pleasant as the phrase suggests. Especially since Morgan’s men wouldn’t be able to cross back over the river.”
Without a verbal acknowledgment, Aušrinė relented with a flick of her eyes upward and slight shake of her head. She then changed the subject, “How did they find a uniform to fit you? You’re shorter than Phil Sheridan.”
Unashamed, the little sorceress paused to retrieve her Sharps carbine from the cavalry’s stacked arms. She flipped open the breech to make sure that the weapon was unloaded and flipped it closed when she was satisfied it was empty, “They had to modify a drummer boy’s uniform.”
Finally, Aušrinė’s lips spread into a smile, “You’re kidding…”
“You sound like the tailor,” Shàonǚ smiled back.
“Get any jockey jokes?” the unicorn queried amiably.
“Fortunately, no.”
With her mood buoyed, Aušrinė lackadaisically placed her fist on her hip and remarked, “Okay. Let’s get out there and put ideas into little girls’ heads and funny feelings into the pants of middle-age men.”
“Let it not go unsaid you always have noble causes on your mind,” Shàonǚ noted.
“Hey, this whole thing is about emancipation, you know.”
11:00 UTC – 04:00, DSTTHE CAMP DENNISON reenactment was more of a living history showcase than a full recreation of the skirmish that occurred outside Cincinnati when Confederate forces under John Hunt Morgan launched a diversionary incursion into the Ohio River Valley region in 1863. Morgan’s objective was to force Union leaders to draw away federal soldiers that were needed for the siege of Vicksburg, Mississippi and the battle at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. While Morgan’s cavalry force successfully entered Union territory via Kentucky, local forces offered stiffer resistance than expected. Unable to safely cross back over the Ohio River, Morgan’s Confederates went on the run and attempted to return to the Confederacy via West Virginia, only to be diverted further north and eventually captured at the Ohio-Pennsylvania state line. Though he inflicted some casualties and considerable damage to Union war material, Morgan’s daring raid failed in its main objective to draw away pressure from besieged Vicksburg or the beleaguered Army of Northern Virginia.
For the reenactors, the chance to bring Ohio and Kentucky troupes together to pool resources was a worthwhile endeavor. Though they could not present a full recreation of the clash at the Union military post, they were able to perform drill and maneuvers, offer lectures, and present the tools and weapons of the period – from the campground to the battlefield.
Shàonǚ caught Jim’s attention while he and she were horseback riding in Mount Airy Forest. The ease with which the mouse handled herself in the saddle and the goat’s dire straits after he found himself shorthanded led Jim to inquire if she would perform in the reenactment. Intrigued by the offer, the mouse accepted with little hesitation.
Naturally, when Jim extended the offer to any of her friends that might join her, Shàonǚ’s first thoughts were Javier and Aušrinė. Javier turned the offer, with some regret, due to business obligations. However, it was on a weekend that Aušrinė found herself at home with little to do outside of a few household chores.
For the equine, her general experience around military reenactors was dubious at best. Much of the genre attracted those who were politically neutral, seldom leftist, and often conservative. Which stood to reason. Fortunately, the artillery battery volunteers were more worried they would be unable to participate without an extra gunner than they were worried about the fact their new team member was female. The fact Aušrinė had the strength to pull and push the gun-howitzer’s carriage and caisson as well as proficient knowledge of and experience with gunpowder gave them pause, and not a little concern. But they chose not to further investigate those facts.
Meanwhile, Shàonǚ’s own skills with a rolling block carbine and cap and ball revolvers meant she quickly garnered the attention and intrigue of the cavalry reenactors. When pressed on where she learned how to use such antiquated weapons, reproductions though they were, she simply remarked that she had learned horseback riding and marksmanship from her father. She would then playfully remark that she was better with a bow and arrows. While they outwardly laughed it off, they were inwardly fascinated. Not least because she accurately landed shots from the revolver on watermelons from over 30 meters at full gallop during the rehearsals.
Together, Shàonǚ and Aušrinė found the experience to be a rewarding challenge, but nothing beyond their abilities. Though they were not permitted to use live ammunition, the Union artillery battery added a fearsome presence to the field with its terrific roar. Meanwhile, the cavalry was an impressive spectacle, which included live fire demonstrations that saw the small, agile mouse woman whisk across a target range at breathtaking speed and marksman’s skill, both on horseback with a revolver and on foot with a carbine. All of which delighted the children who were frightened and excited by the smoke and thunder. Meanwhile, the fathers found their attention and imaginations seized by the program’s feminine touch. There were those who tried to disguise reactionary complaints behind prevaricating inquiries were, by turns, given unequivocal answers from the ladies whose presence they “only” wanted to question. What Shàonǚ did not cover through concise examples of known female combatants, Aušrinė rebuffed with plainspoken firmness. Their combined efforts satisfied attendees who were more interested in skill, not idle talk.
End
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1421 x 1039px
File Size 372.2 kB
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