OOC: This was a crosspost with the update. Assume this happened before it. Not after it
"Charles? I'm home!"
Annette Renard quickly closed the door behind her, entering a simple kitchen which marked the first room of her house. The chilling winds behind her were quickly abated, and she started to remove her coat. Ever since she wrote her bestseller novel, her life changed significantly, and barring a legal lawsuit with some Monacan film company trying to infringe on the copyright by producing a movie without permission or royalties, it went mostly well for her. Although current author royalties were not enough to make a living on its own, the brunette haired woman was looking forward to being able to quit her meaningless job as some clerk to a random store and be able to write full-time sometime in the near future.
A masculine voice responded to her, "In the living room. You got some package in the mail, from Vienna. Left it on the kitchen table"
Looking at the table, Renard in fact did notice a small beige parcel on the table. Picking it up, she quickly scanned the sender's information. The sticker claimed it was sent from a Dr. Alexander Lowe, from the University of Austria. The same Alexander Lowe she criticized as being a part of the Patriarchy she was fighting against. Already suspecting what was inside, Renard gave an audible sigh as she started to tear apart the package. Inside, it was, as she expected, a book written by Lowe, defiantly titled, "The Feminine Revenge".
This is why my agent just told me not to respond at all, Renard chastised at herself, Still, any publicity is still good publicity. Maybe I'll get more exposure in Austria due to this. The author shrugged and threw the book on the table, not really caring about what happens to it. She would probably read it once eventually, chuckle a little, then throw it out without much fanfare. However, she had more important things to deal with besides some professor's petty revenge.
Walking into the living room, she noticed her brother sitting down on the floor, next to a chair facing a television. From a depression on the seat she could tell someone was recently sitting on it and just vacated. Not surprisingly, the chair has the best vantage point for being able to look at the television. Although there is a couch near the chair, it remains mostly unused unless guests are over. Annette quickly strided over to the abandoned chair and plopped down. She locked eyes with Charles, who looked up at her expectantly.
"So how was your day, Charles?," Annette asked her floor-bounded brother.
The blond-haired brother shrugged and replied, "Eh, nothing good or bad. Just tidied this place up. You?"
"Working on being able to quit my job," his sister answered, "and also trying to find some inspiration for my next book." Suddenly, Annette smirked; a sudden epiphany surged into her mind. "Hey, maybe I can write about how much you changed since the operation!"
Annette could see a death-ladden glower from Charles after that outburst. Despite what she said in the interview with Jeannette Hiver, he actually extremely resented Annette for getting him neutered. Granted, he doesn't complain about constantly like he did a year ago, but he did not find any humor in bringing it up again.
"Goddess, it was just a joke. Calm down," the author said to save face. At least, I was half-joking. Maybe. Afraid of the rising tension, Annette took her hand and ran it through the blond hair of her brother, much like a person pets a dog. Despite the dehumanizing implications, Annette noted that it always seemed to calm Charles down, as evidenced by his light laughter. "I love you, Charles"
"You too, sis," he quietly let out. Annette sighed. Despite his... maleness, Annette did in fact enjoy being with him. After all, why let him stay with her if she couldn't stand him? Still, the siblings often did not see eye to eye, and Annette wondered if he actually meant what he said.
Those thoughts, however, were casted aside, as the time on the cable box ticked from 16:59 to 17:00. The 17:00 news was about to start, and Annette was dead set on reaching home in time to be able to watch. With the only idea what to write next about shot down by her brother, Annette thought she could get inspiration from the headlines.
"Breaking news from Caen," the anchor of the news program reported, "as an impromptu political rally just started an hour ago in the city square. Exactly by whom may surprise you."
Annette scoffed at the sensationalist tagline. It's probably some stupid animal liberation group protesting over pet cats or something stupid like that. Or maybe something to do with that rumor that President Pettigrew was shagging some Volgan soldier back when she was still in the special forces.
The program shifted to a live coverage of the city square. Standing on top of the makeshift podium was... a man? And he had a mixed gender crowd cheering for him? This is... new, Annette concluded her observations
"If testosterone is the problem" said the unidentified man on the podium, "then I don't see why castrated men are still denied citizenship! With our inhibitors gone, we are just as capable of being rational as women are, yet we're still treated as if we're dumb brutes! I thought the Matriarchy was supposed to bring back egalitarianism, yet I don't see any of it!
"I was born a brute, sure, but I'm a brute no more! I'm not a woman, sure, but I'm not a man, either. I'm... I'm a goddessdamned eunuch! That's right! And I think we eunuchs need to band together and demand citizenship! We'll form a eunuch party! Who's with me!?" Applause could be heard across the square, as the man started to step down and pass the microphone to yet another man stepping on to it,
Annette's eyes widened, and she turned off the television in disgust. From her side, Annette could hear her brother speak. "The man has a point, Annette. Even your book leads to his conclusion."
"Well, even if he was right, and he isn't, you're castrated because you broke the law. So you probably, and most definitely shouldn't, get anything out of it. Now shut it," replied an angry and horrified Annette.
"Bu-," Charles attempted to say, only to be interrupted by Annette covering his mouth, muffling any words to come out of his move.
"I. said. shut. it."
Charles whimpered an affirmative nod, and Annette released her hand. Annette then ordered, "I think you should go to your room, Charles."
The blond haired man complied, and walked out of the room. The author sighed in disbelief. What has this world got to, Annette bemoaned in her mind, Next uncut males will ask to vote, and then everything us women fought for will be lost. Man will enslave Woman again, and-
Annette paused. Suddenly, she grinned.
And I just got my next book idea!