#The Nine Lives of Curious Edith

[sallysgrancanwrite]

Chapter Fifty Nine

Masterlist

Edith and Bob took a break from sitting with Chloe and went to eat.

“I’ll sit here for a while.” Beth told them. “You’ve been here all day.”

“Okay dear, but call us if something should change while we’re gone.” Edith said.

“I will now get something to eat.” Beth told her.

Beth sat reading in the corner of the room, when she noticed a rather tall man, whom she didn’t know, enter the room and sit by the bed.

“Hi, are you a friend of Chloe’s?” Beth asked him.

“Oh hi. I didn’t notice anyone here. I’m a friend of Michael and Chloe’s. I heard she was in the hospital and brought some roses for her. I’ll leave and not bother you. I’ll come back another time.” He said.

“Can I tell her who sent the roses if she wakes before your next visit?” Beth asked.

“Oh yes, Alan, tell her Alan Porter sent them. Can you tell me what happened to her?”

“Yeah, her damn husband almost killed her by throwing her over a stair railing.” Beth said.

“Yeah he’s a real gem. I’m sorry she is going through this.” Alan said, “Bye for now.”

Beth was curious about this Alan character. She got the feeling he liked Chloe and had no respect for Michael at all. She decided to look into him. He seemed nice enough though.

Beth went and sat by Chloe and talked to her. Talked about the fun times, how she is missed and how much she is needed by them all but mostly about Emma.

As she held her hand she finally moved a little bit.

Was she trying to wake up? Beth wondered.

Chloe’s fingers moved and her eyes fluttered but didn’t open yet. She seemed agitated. Beth went and got the nurse, who contacted the Dr.

The Dr came in to examine Chloe. He noticed that she was showing signs of waking up.

He took an instrument and ran it down her foot to get a reaction. She immediately pulled away.

“She’s slowly coming around.” The Dr said. “Give her some time. I’ll come back after a few hours and check on her again. If anything changes please call me.” He said.

Beth called Edith and Bob to tell them the news. They were done eating but they had a stop to make.

Bob drove to the sheriff's office today to find out what was being done about what happened to Chloe.

“Tom, are you going to arrest Michael or not? Everyone knows he did it for god's sake.” Bob said.

“Now Bob, I have to have evidence. Emma is telling me the same story he is. Chloe is still unable to tell me anything. I can’t arrest him with no proof, Bob. You know that. Look, I know you're frustrated, just give me time.” Tom said.

“What about Emma? She’s still living there with him. Can we get custody of her?” Edith asked.

“You’ll have to talk to a lawyer about that. I don't know about that.” Tom told her.

“Well I’ll fight to my dying breath to get that child from him!” Edith said as they left the sheriff’s office.

Bob and Edith drove over to the hospital to check on Chloe. They prayed she would come around and tell them what really happened. The sooner she could the sooner they could lock Michael up.

“Beth, has she woke up yet?” Edith asked, looking at a sleeping Chloe.

“She seems to be trying to, but slowly. She hasn’t completely woken up yet.” Beth informed them. “It may take a while for her to fully come around, the Dr said.”

“All we can do is keep praying. I think Edith and I will drive to Grantsville tomorrow to meet with a lawyer there, about getting custody of Emma.” Bob said. “And there’s no need for you to sit around Beth and wait for her to wake. Go to work, they’ll call when she does.” He told her.

“Yeah I guess you’re right, but I hate to have her be alone when she wakes up.” Beth replied.

“Now honey, she has the nurses and everyone, she’s not alone. And you’re just a couple blocks away. You can come if they call.” Edith told her. “Let’s all go home and try to get some rest in our beds for a change. It’s been several nights that we have slept up here. We all need some rest.”

Beth had to admit, it felt good to take a hot bath and sleep in her nice soft bed, not a hard chair. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She was more tired than she thought.

They all woke up a lot more refreshed than they had been as of late. Sleeping in your own bed does wonders for a person. Edith called the hospital after she started the coffee.

“Yes, I’m call to check and see how Chloe Conrad’s night was. Did she wake at all, by chance?” Edith asked. “Okay. Yes. Yes. I see. Okay. I understand. We’ll, thank you. Goodbye.” She said and hung up.

“Well? Has she woke up?” Beth asked impatiently.

“No, she hasn’t but she’s doing more moving and some mumbling in her sleep. She did seem to rest okay though.” Edith told them. “We can all go up later.”

Beth got ready for work and left. Bob called the lawyer in Grantsville to see if he could meet with them today.

“Mr. Abrams has time this morning at 9:15.” His secretary said.

“That’s great. Put us down.” Bob said and hung up.

They had just enough time to grab some coffee and run. They didn’t want to be late. It’s a 40 minute drive and it was already 8:25. They managed to get there early, which is how Bob liked it.

“Mr. Abrams can see you now.” His secretary told them as she directed them to his office.

As they walked in they were met by a tall man in maybe his 50’s, very stocky large man. Looking at him Bob was reminded of the actor Brian Dennehy, he had the same build. He was very pleasant.

“Please, have a seat and tell me how I can help you today.” He said.

“We’ll, Mr. Abrams, we..”

“Just call me Andrew, please.” He said cutting Bob off.

“Okay Andrew, we have a girl who we raised as our own after her parents died. She’s been in an abusive marriage and she was thrown over her banister several nights ago and still hasn’t come around. She and husband have a 6 yr old daughter, Emma, whom we’d like to get custody of. The father is being investigated for the attempted murder of the mother. They just have to get enough evidence. Little Emma is scared to say anything because he hurts her too. She needs to be removed. What do we do?”

“Okay, first of all I’m sorry for all that you’re going through. The first thing is we need to get Social Services to investigate and interview people. Someone will talk. Then they will pull her and we’ll push the courts to have her placed in your care. Hopefully by then the mother has woken up and she can testify to it all. Now if she goes back, so does the little girl. You lose rights then.” Andrew told them.

“There’s no way she’d go back this time, I know it,” said Edith.

“You would be surprised ma’am how many I have seen worse off, go back. It happens everyday.” He replied. “Let’s start with Social Services and getting the school involved. They have to have noticed things going on. I’ll send an investigator out. Then we’ll go from there. Okay?”

“Thank you so much Andrew.” Bob said.

“I’ll be in touch soon,” Andrew promised them as they left his office.

He wasted no time in calling Social Services and getting an investigator out to the school.

[readersmagnet]

The Nine Lives of Curious Edith walks you through the life and works of the author, Edith King Vosefski. The entirety of the narrative radiates her unique personality. What's clear in her book is there's always time to learn something new, upskill, revisit past learnings, or even reinvent oneself.

To know more about Edith King Vosefski and her book, visit www.edithvosefski.com.

[academiaoscura]

2020 in books

Twenty-twenty... a year full of tragedy and wreckage and surprisingly pleasant moments. Really makes you appreciate the present.

No one asked for this list, but this is what I read this year. Let me know if you’re curious about any of them and would like to know my opinion. Happy New Year, everyone. May this new year bring success, health and joy.

January - two books: 

“The Aleph and Other Stories” by Jorge Luis Borges

“The Sappho History” by Margaret Reynolds

February - four books:

“Dreamers” by Yuyi Morales

“With a Little Help from My Friends” by John Lennon

“The Well of Loneliness” by Radclyffe Hall

“On Being Different: What It Means to Be a Homosexual” by Merle Miller

March - four books:

“Geopolitics” by Saul Bernard Cohen

“The Vegetarian” by Han Kang

“The Love and Lies of Rukhsana Ali” by Sabina Khan

“Catch and Kill” by Ronan Farrow

April - two books:

“Carry On” by Rainbow Rowell

“Wayward Son” by Rainbow Rowell

May - twenty-one books:

“Reflection” by Elizabeth Lim

“Venus in Retrograde” by Susan Lilley

“Cults Uncovered” by Emily G. Thompson

“Loki: The God Who Fell to Earth” by Daniel Kibblesmith

“Stories” by Katherine Mansfield

“The Secret History” by Donna Tartt

“The Silence of the Girls” by Pat Barker

“Unsolved Murders” by Emily G. Thompson

“Pan’s Labyrinth” by Guillermo del Toro

“Daytripper 1-10″ by Fabio Moon

“Happy and You Know It” by Laura Hankin

“Latin American Folktales” by John Bierhorst

June - nine books:

“Gender” by Meg-John Barker

“The Red Pyramid” by Rick Riordan

“The Lightning Thief” by Rick Riordan

“The Sea of Monsters” by Rick Riordan

“The Titan’s Curse” by Rick Riordan

“The Stockholm Octavo” by Karen Engelmann

“Poems” by Sappho

“The Library Book” by Susan Orlean

“The Manson Women and Me” by Nikki Meredith

July - five books:

“The New York Times Book of Crime” by Kevin Flynn

“Essential Thor, Vol. 3″ by Stan Lee

“The Paris Hours” by Alex George

“Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?” by Jeanette Winterson

“Erotic Poems” by E.E. Cummings

August - seven books:

“Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit” by Jeanette Winterson

“Crier’s War” by Nina Varela

“Autobiography in Red” by Anne Carson

“The Beauty in Breaking” by Michele Harper

“Sex and Lies” by Leila Slimani

“Black Chalk” by Christopher J. Yates

“Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” by Caitlin Doughty

September - five books:

“I Married My Best Friend to Shut My Parents Up” by Kodama Naoko

“Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Vol. 1″ by Naoko Takeuchi

“Gold Dust Woman” by Stephen Davis

“Hurricane Child” by Kacen Callender

“Coraline” by Neil Gaiman

October - six books:

“Mythology” by Edith Hamilton

“The Pagan Book of Living and Dying” by Starhawk

“The Night of the Gun” by David Carr

“Interview with the Vampire” by Anne Rice

“Restaurant to Another World Vol. 1″ by Junpei Inuzuka

“Of Light and Darkness” by Shayne Leighton

November - six books: 

“Beneath a Ruthless Sun” by Gilbert King

“Frankissstein” by Jeanette Winterson

“A Burning” by Megha Majumdar

“Dionysos: Exciter to Frenzy” by Vikki Bramshaw

“Norma Jean Baker of Troy” by Anne Carson

“In the Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado

December - six books:

“The Virgin Suicides” by Jeffrey Eugenides

“The Penguin Book of Mermaids” by Cristina Bacchilega

“Thirst” by Mary Oliver

“Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon #2” by Naoki Takeuchi

“Dance in Classical Greece” by Alkis Raftis

“Howl and Other Poems” by Allen Ginsberg

[baristabirdgoddess]

🎄 Carter

WHO: Kendra Saunders and Carter Hall @thelegendaryhawkmanWHAT: Mistletoe Ask Meme - Went a little crazy with this one and wrote a few different kisses over their past lives and one current 😉

Victorian Era - Lizzy Saunders

“Lizzy, you know if you don’t kiss anyone under this mistletoe this year, you’ll end up alone and die an old maid.” One of Lizzy’s friends whispered in her ear at the Christmas dance. The whole town had gathered in their holiday finest and most had paired off and started dancing. Not Lizzy, she found the entire event boring and would much rather get back to writing her books. It wasn’t really the done thing for a woman of her standing to do as they would never be published or taken seriously, but Lizzy had an idea in her mind of a fantasy era where there was a priestess and a prince in a forbidden love story.

Lizzy just rolled her eyes in exasperation in reaction to her friend’s comment. “I hardly think a kiss under the mistletoe is going to dictate how I am going to be spending the rest of my life. I’m going for a walk.”

Her friend gasped, probably in horror that she would go off on her own without an escort, but Lizzy paid it no mind, leaving the hall of dancers to explore the rest of the estate. Her wanderings lead her to a large library and she stared at the shelves in wonder, fingers tracing along the spines of the books as she moved further into the room.

“You are not supposed to be in here.”

Lizzy whirled around at the voice, her eyes landing on Mr. Carter, the owner of the estate in which the gathering was held. She had only met him a handful of times, each time he was polite and had an air of familiarity about him. Had she really thought about, Lizzy might have accepted that she had a little bit of an infatuation with Mr. Carter. But she refused to believe she would ever want to be tied to any man - infatuation or no.

“Apologies, I thought the whole house was open.” Lizzy made a move to leave. As she went to exit the room, his hand brushed hers, capturing it in a gentle grasp. She could have pulled away, but instead she turned her eyes up toward him, the pair captured in a moment. Mr. Carter leaned in and Lizzy closed her eyes as he drew close, a soft sigh escaping her as a gentle kiss was placed on her cheek. Opening her eyes again, Lizzy looked at Mr. Carter in confusion before he smiled one of the most gorgeous smiles she had ever seen and pointed up. Looking up, Lizzy let out a little laugh. There, nestled above the library doorway was a single sprig of mistletoe.

‘Well, so much for becoming an old lonely maid.’ Lizzy thought, smiling to herself as she slipped away from Mr. Carter and made her way back to the gathering.

---

1924 - Edith Boardman

“... and then we danced all through the night.” Edith finished the story she was telling Aldus as she tucked him in bed for the night. The nine year old was tremendously curious about Edith and Joe’s past lives, often asking for stories about things that had happened.

With Christmas approaching, Aldus wanted to know more and more about past Christmases her and Joe had spent together. Edith was happy to comply, remembering a few that brought about some good feelings with them. Of course, she couldn’t share everything in their past lives but this was one thing she didn’t mind sharing.

Suddenly, the sound of the door unlocking had Edith look at her son with a little guilty look. “Uh no, I promised your father I wouldn’t keep you up late telling stories again,” she whispered, mirth in her eyes. Edith leaned forward and placed a kiss on Aldus’ forehead just as Joe’s silhouette stood in the doorway.

“Telling stories without me? I hope you’re not tell him lies.” Joe was more amused than angry, but he kept up the pretense that he was mad that Edith had kept Aldus up telling him stories. In all honesty, Joe couldn’t deny he would let Aldus stay up all night and answer all the questions the curious young boy had. But Aldus was only nine and therefore had to have a bed time.

“Only telling him how terrible you are at dancing,” Edith moved over to her husband after wishing her son a good night. Joe chuckled low and then offered Edith a small sprig of mistletoe, which had Edith smiling and shaking her head with a chuckle of her own. Lost in each other for a few moments, the pair didn’t see the little grin that graced their son’s face as they kissed, so happy that his parents were so in love.

---

2019 (Present Day) - Kendra Saunders

Kendra walked back to the jump ship, hand in hand with Carter. The date couldn’t have been any better and the restaurant he had taken her too was absolutely divine. They didn’t go dancing but that was fine, save something for the next date. Honestly, though, Kendra had never felt so relaxed and herself on a date in years - especially a first date. Then again, it technically wasn’t their first date but Kendra wasn’t counting their past lives.

Suddenly, Kendra felt Carter stop, her momentum forward anchored by her hand still linked with his. Turning to him with a curious gaze, Kendra moved closer, the warmth radiating from him inviting against the chill of the night. “What’s wrong?” her voice filled with concern as her eyes turned upward, trying to follow his line of vision as he looked up at the branches above them.

“Don’t you see it?” There was amusement in his voice, like he was playing a game with her, testing her abilities again.

Kendra frowned, unable to see what had caught his attention. A gentle hand on her chin tilted her head slightly left and then she saw it, a little grin erupting on her face. “You know if you don’t get a kiss under the mistletoe, you’ll end up a lonely old maid in a house full of cats.” She teased, grin never fading as they looked at each other once more.

“That's a lie and you know it.” Carter smiled back, leaning his head close to hers, foreheads nearly touching.

“You want to take that chance?” Kendra continued to torment him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tilting her head but still not quite meeting him halfway just yet. Carter chuckled and then closed the gap between them. Kendra kissed back, her heart rejoicing at being with it’s soulmate once more.

[imagine-loki]

Wedded Bliss

TITLE: Wedded Bliss CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 28 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Odin determined to find Loki a wife in a misguided, though somewhat well-intentioned attempt to ‘mellow him’. … RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: For those of you not following me: My laptop has decided, after roughly ten years, that it no longer wishes to live. It froze to hel and back while I was writting a thing and barely responded to anything I did. I had backed up my writing on my tablet recently, thankfully, and after a brief scare of (so far) one corrupted file among the lot, I got this chapter to open. Now, to get to the point; much as love my tablet and it has been a godsent, the screen doesn’t compare to a full size monitor and it strains my eyes to write on it more than a couple hours, so until I get a new computer updates will likely be pretty slow in coming (y'know, more than usual XD). Sorry about that. Anyway, here, have some silly shenanigans.

______________________

    “Man, if I’d have known you were going to be this fascinated by the subway; I’d have brought you here sooner,” Edith giggled as she watched Loki examine pretty much everything in sight like an excited child, unheeding of the odd looks they were receiving, her phone in her hand recording it all for posterity.

    He turned back to her, faintly embarrassed, but it only lasted for a few moments before something else caught his attention. It was the first time he’d been out in the city since the invasion, now that much of it had been repaired, and he seemed utterly fascinated by everything they encountered, often commenting on how it all differed from Asgard and wanting to know how everything worked. In truth, the trip to the subway was unnecessary - after all, it wasn’t as though the Avengers, especially Tony, had a shortage of vehicle options - but Edith had been curious to see what Loki would make of it, and so far she was not disappointed.

    She did shut him down firmly when he expressed a wish to take the train apart to figure out what made it run, though, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him onto the nearest car with a threat to withhold the potstickers he liked so much for a month if he resisted, which he grumbled about but ultimately went along with her. The actual train ride, as she’d predicted, he liked significantly less, particularly when he noticed how a man at the other end of the car was staring at Edith, but she drew his attention and began showing him cellophane prank videos on her phone to prevent any incidents.

    Once out aboveground again, Edith laced her fingers with Loki’s and dragged him along to every store she could think to go, both of them getting a kick out of the startled and amazed faces of people around them whenever Loki sent their shopping back to the tower with a flick of his hand. After a stop for lunch, she took him to the habour, where they sat looking out at the water enjoying cups of ice-cream.

    “So, are you ever going to tell me what the heck you and Tony are planning?” she asked after a long but comfortable silence.

    Loki pretended to give it some thought. “Hmm… no.”

    “Aw, come on!”

    “It’s a private matter, Edith.”

    “The hell it is; everybody seems to know but me,” she pouted.

    He breathed a laugh. “Patience, dyrr min; I will tell you soon enough.”

    She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know that I believe you…”

    “Well… I might tell you a bit sooner, for a price.”

    “I’m not telling you what the Rules are.”

    “Then you’ll just have to wait.”

    “I want a divorce.”

    “We’re not married.”

    “So?”

    Loki rolled his eyes and turned back to his ice-cream. After he was done, he turned to regard Edith to find her trying to get a smudge of ice-cream off the tip of her nose with her tongue with marginal success and choked on a laugh. She stuck her tongue out at him and he chuckled and wiped the smudge off her nose with his thumb before leaning down to kiss her.

    “How would you feel about seeing more of me?”

    “But I see you every day,” Edith replied with a slight laugh.

    “Not when you’re away on missions,” Loki corrected.

    “True…”

    “Stark and I have discussed my joining the team on a more or less permanent basis.”

    “Really?”

    He hummed in confirmation. “He asked a while ago, I simply had not decided until now. Our discussions are about how to bring that matter to my father in a way that he will accept my extended absence.”

    “And how’s that going?”

    “I believe we have a solid enough plan; we need only send word home to find out either way.”

    “And if Odin doesn’t agree?”

    “Then I stay anyway and he learns to live with it, provided he survives mother’s wrath for depriving her of my visiting every so often.”

    “Emotional blackmail; I like it!” That earned her a laugh that she grinned at. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I definitely have no objections to you joining the team; I think you’d be a great addition. Plus if we get teamed up, your magick could be useful in bailing us out of trouble.”

    He scoffed. “You mean bail you out of trouble. Good to know where your interest lay.”

    “Hey, I was taught to take advantage of any and all available assets.”

    “Is that what I am, then? An asset?”

    “Well, you certainly some very impressive ones…” she replied, leaning back and shamelessly ogling him.

    Holding back a laugh he painted a scandalised expression on his face. “And you intend to take advantage of me?”

    “Oh, absolutely,” she replied with a perfectly serious expression. He laughed at that, causing her serious mask to crack as she giggled and leant against him again.

    “I hope you are aware I will hold you to that,” he spoke up after a moment, causing Edith to laugh again.

****

    When they finally returned to the tower well into the evening, JARVIS informed them that they had a visitor waiting for them in the floor that had become Loki’s. Expecting it to be Thor, Loki prepared a playful jab about how the Thunderer couldn’t even go a year without him, only to be surprised to see his mother sitting on his couch instead, the picture of elegance as always.

    “Mother! I was not expecting you,” he greeted as they made their way to her as she stood, gladly returning the hug she enveloped him in as soon as he reached her.

    “Well, I wasn’t certain you would be here if I had sent word ahead,” Frigga replied as they parted, turning to Edith and pulling her into a hug as well, “And even then you were not.”

    “Edith was showing me around, is all. And why would you think that?”

    Frigga chuckled softly. “Darling, don’t you think I know when you are avoiding me?”

    “I am doing no such thing,” Loki defended indignantly.

    Frigga raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that must be why I had to learn of yours and Edith’s blossoming relationship from Heimdall apparently almost half a year after the fact.”

    Loki seemed to almost shrink under his mother’s stare, ducking his head sheepishly. “I… Well, I meant to tell you, I simply…”

    “You believed that I would demand you return home to be married at once,” Frigga finished for him then frowned, “Loki, do you truly think I would rush you both so, after I saw how upset you were when your father and I pushed you before?”

    “Honestly? Yes.”

    Frigga winced almost imperceptively. “I suppose that is fair,” she smiled and reached up to cup his cheek in her hand, “But I like to think I am capable of learning from my mistakes, and I will not make that one again.”

    “Well, that’s a relief!” Edith said with a relieved sigh, causing Frigga to laugh a bit, “So, if you’re not here to scold us…?”

    “I believe I am entitled to miss my son, and you. I had time to spare and wished to see you,” she turned to Loki “And also ask how long exactly you are planning to spend away from home this time.”

    Loki swallowed a bit nervously at that. “Well…”

    “… I see. I do hope you have prepared a very good argument to present to your father.”

    “I believe I have,” Loki replied assuredly, “He is always after Thor and I to take on more responsibilities; I intend to use that to my advantage.”

    Frigga tilted her head slightly in thought. “A liaison between our realms? It could work, in the wake of the invasion.”

    Loki smiled slightly, glad his mother approved. He would have proceeded regardless, but it was nice to have her on his side. “It would give him a way to save face; the Nine are supposed to be under Asgard’s protection and yet we did not learn of the chitauri threat until it was almost too late.”

    “Plus it means he gets to avoid dealing with our shenanigans for a good while at least,” Edith added amusedly, earning a laugh from the other two.

    “Yes; that, too.”

    “Alright; I will speak to him regarding it when I return,” Frigga assured, then took them each by a hand and pulled them to the couch before sitting, waving a hand at the coffee table and conjuring a tray of tea and biscuits for three, “Now come, tell me what I have missed.”

[hollenka99]

New York

Summary: Jameson moves away from home, meets new people who will play important roles in his life and starts a company with his brother. Chapter 1.

September 24, 1906 Dear Mother,

Clifford and I have arrived safely in New York. Our accommodation is a small and we have taken to alternating whose turn it is to sleep on the floor. Fear not, I am sure we will earn enough soon to pay for a better apartment. However, for now, our arrangement will suffice.

Manhattan itself has made a decent first impression on me. There are a number of theatres within walking distance of our apartment. Cliff is interested in auditioning for some roles once they are advertised. Carnegie Hall is near us too. Do you remember me telling you about it before we left? It certainly has a reputation. Neither of us has the ability to perform there.

How are things in Saint John without us? I hope you are not too lonely with only Pearl at home to keep you company. We both miss all of you.

Yours, Jameson

October 9, 1906 Dear Mother,

We have become successful in securing ourselves jobs. I have become a proof reader while Clifford is being paid as an actor. With our salaries combined, we can bring home up to $45 a week. That isn't a bad amount, if I must say. Of course, that is the best case scenario. Cliff's contributions will be inconsistent. I don't wish to be the sole financial provider but I will if I must. Although, I must admit the thought of it is fairly stressful.

I have heard from Cliff that you scolded him for our sleeping arrangement. Please do not treat him as if he is forcing me into this situation. I was the one who suggested it. Furthermore, lying on my back has never caused me to asphyxiate before. I highly doubt I will begin being affected by it any time soon.

I promise you, I am healthy. You can be reassured that I trust my brother with my life. Clifford has never done anything with the intent of harming me. He will not risk my health nor my safety, especially not in an attempt to be at an advantage. There is no need to fret over this.

Yours, Jameson

December 26, 1906 Dear all,

I hope you have enjoyed Christmas together. It was odd to be away from you this year as well as a shame we could not visit. Unfortunately, money is short for us as of right now. If all goes well, we may be able to celebrate together again next December.

Despite this, we were not lonely. Of course, we had each other. However, we did invite two friends of ours to share our pitifully small spread. It was a night full of riveting conversations and laughter. I enjoyed getting to know our friends better. One of them teaches piano to the local children. If I invite her to celebrate Christmas in the future, I should ensure there is a piano for her to play. It will certainly make the long nights pass quickly if there is music for us to sing to. I myself may not sing but I'm sure there is a carol or hymn that requires a duet. I could always assist with the chords while she plays the melody.

The funniest coincidence occurred yesterday. Cliff and I have both been interested in purchasing a Brownie from Eastman Kodak. At $1 a camera and $2 for development, I'd say one of those cameras would be a decent investment. The two of us both agreed we'd save up, prioritising essentials such as food and rent, then we would discuss buying one to share. I will confess that I suffered impatience. I may have bought the camera for Christmas. So, it would seem, did Cliff. As consequence, we appear to be in a situation where we have gifted the exact same present to each other. It was a humourous beginning to the day.

I can hardly take 117 photographs in the space of 24 hours. Once I have become familiar with the device, I may choose to include some photographs in my letters. I doubt the elements will be kind to them but unfortunately, I do not have another choice but to expose them to potential damage.

Hoping this coming year treats us all favourably, Jameson

December 28, 1906 Dearest Siobhan,

I would hate for you to be lonely as we greet the new year. Clifford and I would be more than happy to have you celebrate with us. Please consider joining us on Monday night.

Yours, Jameson

March 11, 1907 Dear Jameson,

I have a query that has been on my mind for the past couple weeks. I hope I am not overstepping any boundaries by asking you for the answer. If I am, I apologize and will not bring the subject up again. I am simply curious as to how your muteness developed. You are clearly not hard of hearing as you understand everything I say to you in person. For that reason, my intrigue into you condition has grown. This is not something you are able explain to me with your hands. It seems too complex for that.

On an entirely unrelated matter, would yourself and Clifford be interested in joining me next Sunday for drinks? You told me you were half Irish on your father's side. If you would like to consider celebrating that heritage, I would be more than happy to host the two of you.

Please, do not feel obliged to answer my question if it makes you uncomfortable. That would be the last thing I would want.

Sincerely yours, Siobhan

March 14, 1907 Dearest Siobhan,

You would be correct in your belief that I am not able to explain my condition through American sign language. Do not worry about offending me. I was planning to tell you this story regardless, only at a later date.

Years ago, when I was a boy of nine, I found myself suffering from a malfunctioning thyroid. The doctors suggested surgery to treat me. Unfortunately, they must have made a mistake as I woke to part of my vocal cords being paralysed. The condition is known as vocal fold paresis or, if you really want to sound sophisticated, recurrent laryngeal nerve paralysis. While I am physically able speak aloud, it is difficult. I found it easier to speak through sign. My family learned ASL alongside me.

What I was not aware of was that vocal cords also contribute to breathing. You can imagine the physical education lessons in high school I had to endure. You should not worry yourself after receiving this letter. The extent this affects me is not great. I simply have to be vigilant when exercising and eating. If you are present when I accidentally choke on a meal, by all means help me. Otherwise, please don't act like I will meet my doom at any second. My mother still does at times and it is unbelievably frustrating to convince her I am fine.

I hope this was informative and answered any queries you may have had.

Patiently awaiting those drinks, Jameson

April 15, 1907 Dear Jameson,

While I do appreciate the poems slipped into my mail, if you send me any more, you may actually succeed in making me blush. You're lucky Lent ended two weeks ago. You should know better than to tempt those you care for with such sweet things. The next thing you know, you'll have enough to compile into an anthology.

Ever yours, Siobhan

May 23, 1907 Jameson,

You must tell me what you think of Elizabeth. Lord knows your brother won't tell me. He barely knows her, he can't after only a handful of months. How long have you lived in New York now? I think it may be seven or eight months. That is not enough time to truly get to know someone. Especially when you are planning to spend the rest of your life with them. Marriage is not to be taken lightly. Clifford clearly does not understand that.

Mark my words, he will regret his decision. I will only attend the ceremony because I can see you again after all these months. I am surprised you are not angered by this. After all, you are the one who pays for everything. How much do you actually earn a week? $20? You can just about to afford to live on that. You can't, however, afford to live on $20 and pay for a wedding. Are you not irritated by this? You should be, Jameson.

In other news, it should only be a few days before you become an uncle. I, for one, am delighted to become a grandmother. Harvey has made me promise to stay by Edith's side while he works. As if I wouldn't do so anyway. Even if a midwife cannot arrive quickly, I know how to help her. It is difficult not to have some knowledge after delivering five children myself. She is in safe hands. I suppose you will be able to meet the child at the wedding.

You have my love, Your mother.

May 31, 1907 Dear Cliff and Jem,

I have good news to bring you. Yesterday, Edith safely delivered a girl. Both she and our daughter appear to be recovering well. We have chosen to name her Dorothy. I hope you visit Saint John soon so you both may meet her. As to be expected, our mother is fawning over her first grandchild. I will not deny that her help is welcome.

Additionally, congratulations to you, Clifford, on your engagement to Elizabeth. Myself and Edith are looking forward to the wedding. We wish the two of you a long happy life spent by each other's side.

Wishing you well, Harvey

June 8, 1907 Dear Mother,

Unfortunately, I am not responsible for Cliff's actions. He appears to genuinely care for his 'Lizzy-Beth'. If things end poorly, I have no way of changing it. I understand your 'let him repent at leisure' sentiment. That said, he is an adult now. I don't feel I am in the position to tell him what he can and cannot do.

Elizabeth herself is a respectful woman. She is a teacher so I assume she is intelligent. You mustn't forget she agreed to marry a man she has only known since November. There are always at least two parties involved in an engagement. If the marriage does not last, they can regret their haste with equal responsibility for getting married in the first place.

Either way, the truth of the matter is that Cliff is getting married regardless of our opinions. We must learn to tolerate that reality. At least he will be able to point to whereabouts he made his mistake.

Yours, Jameson

July 2, 1907 Dear Mother,

With Clifford preparing to marry Elizabeth, I am sure you wonder whether I have met somebody myself. I must confess I have indeed allowed myself to become a fool for a woman.

Her name is Siobhan O'Hara. You may remember me indirectly mentioning her during my Christmas letter. I met her last December when she was playing piano at a dance. I felt the need to compliment her musical skill. After that, I encouraged her to leave the music to someone else at the next dance she attended. For some unknown reason, she accepted my offer. In the months since, I have been teaching her how to sign and spending many spare hours in her company. We have already visited Central Park multiple times together.

You really should hear her play. She is so graceful it is as if an angel possesses her. In fact, her hair makes me wonder whether she is not one is disguise. She has been tutoring me, much like the local children who pay her. Perhaps I should demonstrate my improvement the next time I return home.

I am sure you will be able to meet Siobhan at Cliff's wedding. I have not properly discussed attendance with her yet but I doubt she will decline my offer. She is a friend of Cliff's too.

Yours, Jameson

July 23, 1907 Jem,

Thank you for the birthday present; I love it. Perhaps your gift for me next year can be understanding sarcasm.

Your angel, Siobhan

(P.S. With complete honesty, I do adore the compilation. I hope I am not mistaken in thinking I saw some new additions. I will have a thorough read when I next get the chance. Afterwards, I should prepare for your birthday. You are not the only one who can perform grand gestures.)

July 27, 1907 Jameson,

I certainly must meet this young woman. From your words, I can tell you are enamoured by her. I am happy you are finding joy in her company. I remember frequently meeting your father by the dockyard when we were young. They were simpler times. My biggest worry when I was your age was understanding your grandmother's accent.

My only advice is that you treat each other well and do not rush into anything. You are not yet 20 years old. You have decades of life ahead of you. You have time to be careful in your choices. If in time nothing changes for the two of you, I will be delighted to welcome her into the family.

Wishing you well, Your mother

November 1, 1907 Siobhan,

I know you have appointments today. I know I only saw you yesterday too. However, if you are able, would you spend time with me tonight? We don't have to converse. All I am really wishing for is some company. Normally, I would be surrounded by my mother and siblings, remembering our father. Cliff and I made do last year with only the two of us. Unfortunately, he is with Elizabeth tonight.

By all means, bring a candle for your mother. I think I may have a spare from last year you can use if you don't own one. We can watch the flames as we reflect in peace. Choose whichever option you prefer but I would rather not be alone this evening. That said, only come of your own volition. I don't wish to force you into dedicating your time to something you are not interested in.

Thank you for understanding, Jameson.

November 2, 1907 Dearest Siobhan,

Thank you for last night. I wasn't expecting to learn more about you when I invited you. I am sorry to hear your mother died the way she did. I know it runs through generations but perhaps there is hope neither you nor Michael will suffer the same way. There is that possibility, correct?

Even if you do become afflicted with the disease, know that I will be there to care for you until the end. That is my sincere promise to you. It does not matter to me how it affects you, I won't leave you in when you need me the most. Besides, you are nineteen and I have barely passed the threshold of my twenties. Should you be affected, we still have twenty or so years before the first symptoms make themselves known. A great deal can happen in twenty years.

I love you dearly, Siobhan. I simply wished to have someone beside me as I acknowledged another year without my father. After what you told me, I cannot go about my day without ensuring it is explicitly clear to you that I will be there for you always. So long as you will allow me, of course.

Thinking of you, Jameson

March 21, 1908 Dear all,

Cliff and I are proud to announce that Jackson Brothers Productions has officially been founded. The financial aspects of it are still yet to become stable. However, that won't stop us from doing our best to become respectable members of the film industry. At the moment, we are not concerned with securing the position of top dog. That can be worked on in a few years when we have established ourselves as filmmakers people want to see.

I will be the head writer and manage the money while Cliff directs. We will both act in our films. The plan is to start off slowly, working our way up. The script for our first short for the company is finished. Once it is released, we hope you will enjoy it.

Here's to realising dreams, Jameson

August 10, 1908 Dear Mother,

I visited the Statue of Liberty recently with Cliff, Elizabeth and Siobhan. Lady Liberty truly does look magnificent. I hear she stands at 93 metres tall. To reach her, you must travel by boat. It was a simple case of cycling to the harbour then boarding the vessel to Bedloe's Island.

As we walked around the statue, Siobhan told us about the first time she saw it. It was back in 1904, she was still on her boat to the city and suddenly she had a clear view of the Statue of Liberty. She explained it instilled a determination of sorts within her, motivating her to make her plans work. I knew beforehand that she arrived before us and was therefore younger but I never contemplated the fact she would have been sixteen. Even at 18, I felt slightly overwhelmed with only myself and Cliff when we first came to New York. I remember Pearl being upset she couldn't join us but she was 14 in 1906, barely out of school and only just old enough to work.

Siobhan became enthralled in her own story. She began switching topics as she went off on tangents, to the point where I was the only one listening to her. I can certainly relate to the initial financial worries. I am impressed that she was able to keep a level head during those early days. It also pleases me that she sees the statue as a source of inspiration like I do, if only in a different way.

I have been reflecting on the day. Something about Siobhan made me realise something new about how I feel for her. I am not sure whether she reciprocates. I will ponder more on it and make my final decision by the end of this year. Either way, I will ask her to accompany me on a trip to Saint John this Christmas. I met her father last month during his visit to New York as a way of celebrating her birthday. It is high time she met you all too.

Yours, Jameson

December 13, 1908 Dear Sir,

I wished to discuss some important plans I want to begin preparing for. It was a pleasure meeting you in July and a joy to witness how close your relationship with Siobhan is. I appreciate being received so warmly by you, especially as you were only intending to celebrate her birthday. I can tell Siobhan is such a kind and caring woman because of your influence.

I hope it was apparent that your daughter means the world to me. I intend to spend the rest of my life proving that to her. I would like to ask your daughter for her hand and I would be honored to have your blessing. Please, in the very least, consider it.

Yours faithfully, Jameson Jackson

December 16, 1908 Dearest Siobhan,

You don't need to fret about meeting my mother and siblings. You already know Cliff. They are just as easy to get along with.

My mother is a worrisome yet kind-hearted woman. Ever since my thyroid operation, she is constantly fretting about my health. You've known me for two years now, you can tell she does not need to worry so excessively about it. There was a period of a few months when I was 14 where we were greatly at odds. She was incredibly protective of me which only lead to irritability. In hindsight, I understand she was only paranoid that her sickly son was going to develop complications. After all, she lost her husband to health issues that declined into complications. I suppose we were all trying to figure out where we all stood after his death. On an unrelated tangent, I think the only fault she will find in you is your lack of sewing skills. She works as a seamstress from home. The only reason I am vaguely competent in mending clothes is the countless nights where I mutilated bits of material as peaceful entertainment. She made my sister-in-law's wedding dress a couple of years ago. No doubt, she has already offered to do the same for Mabel.

Harvey is seven years my senior and the eldest of us. He followed our father into the shipbuilding trade so with the long hours, it is possible he may not be present often while we are visiting. He and his wife Edith have a year old daughter named Dorothy. I haven't met her yet so I am quite excited to do so. If Harvey attempts to bore you with war stories, simply nod and pretend to listen. He acts as if his participation in the Boer War makes him more of a man than those who have never served. He was barely of age as it was. We all suspect he'll join the next big war, should there be one. As you can guess, we all hope that war never comes. There is also the hope that he will be sensible, now that he has a family to stay in Canada for.

Mabel, like our mother, is a seamstress. Occasionally, she will refer to me as an early birthday present. That was more when we were younger. Oddly, having birthdays so close together caused us to become close ourselves. I cannot really explain it. We were mutually enthusiastic about each other's birthdays approaching because it also meant our own were too. There was some distance as well because little boys can't always relate to girls who are 5 years older than them. Either way, the two of us have a good relationship and I know the two of you will hit it off easily. She recently got engaged so you are likely to see her again next year when we attend the wedding.

Last but not least, there is Pearl. I may be the youngest son but she is the true baby. She is still only 16 and I worry what kind of attention she is receiving from young men. I may do my best to be respectful but some schoolboys are more like Cliff was. Cliff never practised infidelity as far as I'm aware but he certainly had a number of girlfriends in short succession when he was about 17. I have no doubt Pearl can handle herself but I can't help but be apprehensive. As you know, I have moments where I am of a mischievous nature. It is uncertain whether Pearl encouraged that side of me to develop or I was the one to trigger it in her. I must confess, the youngest three of us caused our parents such a headache in our youth. It used to be only myself and Cliff who pretended to act out these childishly outrageous tales. Then Pearl arrived, became old enough to play with us and earn her place as our third partner in crime. She wants to find success with us in the film industry but I still feel she is a little too young. One day, perhaps. She would certainly be a useful asset.

This is the closest we have come to being a complete family again after Cliff and I left home. It is a shame he won't be able to come with us. I understand his priority is Elizabeth and being there for the birth. Let's hope next year things will be different.

I promise you will be fine, Jameson

January 14, 1909 Dear Jameson,

Have you bought the ring yet? After meeting Siobhan, I am eagerly anticipating your big news in a few weeks. St Valentine's Day cannot come soon enough. Did you have to tell us during Christmas? That is six weeks of waiting.

A new girl joined us at the factory a few months ago. She finished school only last year. Like me, she does not see the point of being educated on how to be the best wife and mother when our own mothers can teach us. I am not sure about her but I am the youngest in our family. Our mother has time to teach me. The only students she ever had were myself and Mabel.

I don't know how much longer I can keep waking early, work for the majority of the day and then help Mother with sewing. I use my hands too strenuously. A good night's sleep (if such a thing existed) does nothing to help them recover. I am telling you, Jem, I will become a cripple by my 20th birthday.

Speaking of birthdays, you should buy me a ticket for New York. You know full well I want to join you in your endeavours. Isn't New York where all the filmmakers are right now? Forget about the papers, I will deal with all that. I can find myself work in a factory or bakery once I get there too. Or perhaps I could stay in your apartment and work as a seamstress from home. You left me behind but I don't wish to stand for it any longer. Allow me to make the Jackson Brothers into a trinity.

I hope to hear back from you soon, Pearl

January 27, 1909 Pearl,

You must be patient. While I would love for you to help us create our films, a lot is happening right now. I don't have the time, energy or in fact the expertise to go into details. However, to put it simply, Thomas Edison is in the process of destroying the prospects of filmmakers like us. Last month, the Motion Pictures Patent Company was formed. In short, Edison is attempting to raise his chances of success by controlling the industry before it develops further.

As I'm sure you can guess, Clifford and I are not only stressed about our professional lives but our futures as creators as well. This has all occurred in the past month or two so where this will lead is undecided. Either way, Pearl, this is one of the worst times you could join us. I promise you it would not be worth it. On top of everything, Cliff has Clara to worry about now too.

Once my finances have recovered from the inevitably large expenses that come with a wedding and Cliff settles into fatherhood, we will figure out how to proceed. Don't worry, the timing may be bad now but, if all goes well, this will change.

Please give everyone my love. Jameson

February 15, 1909 Dear all,

More good news! I am officially engaged to Siobhan. We are both eager to start preparations as soon as we can. I doubt the wedding will happen this year. Personally, I would prefer to celebrate a marriage during the warmer half of the year. Knowing Siobhan, I feel she shares a similar preference.

With Clara being born last month and my engagement, this seems to be shaping up to becoming an eventful year. Perhaps this should be the year I visit Ireland. It may be difficult with all that is happening to smaller producers here. That said, I feel I owe it to Siobhan. She has visited Saint John but I am yet to set foot in her homeland.

I do wish to see Ireland for other personal reasons. After all, I was named after the grandfather we left behind. Do you remember Granny's stories about him? I have always been bothered by Britain starving the Irish until they had no choice but to flee. It broke families like ours apart and lead to some never meeting their posthumous children. I know our father wished he had met his own.

Well, I appear to have changed the mood of this letter rather quickly, haven't I? I certainly did not intend to diverge onto such a sad tangent. By all means, have a drink on my behalf. Although, I would not encourage doing so in front of your daughter, Harvey.

Wishing you the same happiness as mine, Jameson

February 21, 1909 Jameson,

How could you? You don't know how upset you have made us. You propose marriage to such a lovely girl and refuse to tell your mother and sisters the details.

You disappoint us, Whiskey Boy. You live in secrecy and drink to your victory over us. Mother is crying, insisting that she did not raise such a terrible son. You must rectify this wrongdoing immediately. We simply won't stand for it.

Congratulations on your engagement, Pearl

February 23, 1909 Dear Jameson,

Congratulations on your engagement. I will certainly be thrilled to attend with Edward.

I struggle to believe you are already preparing to get married. It didn't seem too long ago that you were convinced I was getting married when you saw Mother making my communion dress. You also kept delivering me sand and broken shells leading up the ceremony. I don't think Father Henry was too pleased with you. It didn't help that you wandered up to near the altar in your little suit. How young you must have been back then. You can't have been older than two or three. You were always as sweet of a little brother as you were happy.

I'm glad you have someone who allows you continue your happiness in adulthood. I recall Siobhan telling me you were rather sweet as her gentleman caller too. Anyone can see how well the two of you go together. I'm warning you now, Jem, don't you dare mess this up. Women like Siobhan won't find themselves in your life often. You lose her, you will never replace the joy she gives you.

I suggest we celebrate properly in July when you visit for my own wedding.

Your loving sister, Mabel

March 7, 1909 Dear Pearl,

You can tell Mother to dry her eyes because she has a daughter so overdramatic that she will certainly succeed in an acting career, should she choose to pursue one. I did not give details because there is not much to say. However, if you must know the course of events, I will happily tell you them.

I invited Siobhan to accompany me for an evening stroll around Central Park. We walked for a while before reaching a place to rest for a moment. I asked her to marry me. She said yes. I chose not to sign during that moment. While she greatly appreciated the gesture, I can tell you my throat did not. That is purely the extent of the proposal. Forgive me for not boring you with the tale beforehand.

In all sincerity, if I have genuinely caused any of you to cry, I hope they are from joy. I have found a new source of optimism. My future is beginning to stretch out before me and I have every hope that it will be good.

Yours, Jameson

September 28, 1909 Dear all,

The harbour is beautiful now. There are lights everywhere as the city celebrates the 300th anniversary of Henry Hudson's discovery of the river and the centenary of Robert Fulton's paddle steamers. To live so close to the river, I have been enjoying the decorations. We will also witness a number of parades while we celebrate history. It began on Saturday and will carry on until October 9th.

I have been a resident here for the past three years now. It struck me that there was so much I didn't know about this city's past. Perhaps I should read up on the subject and educate myself.

But, for now, I think I will invite Siobhan to gaze at the Statue of Liberty. It made me realise I wished to love her for the rest of my days. Something about Lady Liberty inspires me. I am sure she looks even more majestic when covered in lights, especially after dark. If the answer to the Edison problem is to move elsewhere, I will certainly miss that statue.

I am also reminded of Reversing Falls. I long for that place too. Perhaps one of you should visit it on my behalf. It is odd what will stay dear to you.

I suppose I will leave you with that thought.

Yours, Jameson

November 1, 1909 Dearest Siobhan,

Thank you for the hat. I've never worn one of this style before. The men in my family were always more of the flat cap type. I have been inspecting myself in the mirror whilst wearing it. I feel a bowler hat suits me. It might give the illusion I am of a higher social standing than in reality. And with this facial hair that's growing due to negligence, I might see if a moustache suits me as well. If I can get the look right, I might have a character brewing.

Thank you again for the birthday present and the potential inspiration. If you do not appreciate the moustache, I can always be clean shaven during the wedding.

Yours always, Jameson

April 21st 1910 GROOM FULL NAME: Jameson Albert Samuel Jackson AGE: 22 RESIDENCE: West 42nd Street, Manhattan NUMBER OF MARRIAGE: First OCCUPATION: Proof-reader BIRTH PLACE: Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada NAME OF FATHER: William (Deceased) MAIDEN NAME OF MOTHER: Florence Hilliard

BRIDE FULL NAME: Siobhan Maria O'Hara AGE: 21 RESIDENCE: West 52nd Street, Manhattan NUMBER OF MARRIAGE: First OCCUPATION: Pianist BIRTH PLACE: Limerick, Ireland NAME OF FATHER: Jacob MAIDEN NAME OF MOTHER: Eileen Kelly (Deceased)

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

What other fandoms are you familiar enough with to use as an AU prompt? Pokemon Trainer AU? Homestuck AU (they'd still probably die but at least there are lots of ways to come back to life)?

I’m not that familiar with Homestuck, definitely not enough to do an AU.  I read the novelizations of the Pokemon show as a kid but never saw the show or played any of the video games.  I did play the super-obscure Pokemon board game, but most of my trading cards were printed in Japanese (I had a strange childhood), so my experience there is, uh, probably not quite overlapping with everyone else’s.

Anyway, if you want list of all my fandoms… Boy howdy.  I don’t think I can come up with them all.  However, I can list everything that comes to mind between now and ~20 minutes from now when I have to end my procrastination break and go back to dissertating.  So here it is, below the cut:

Okay, there is no way in hell I’ll be able to make an exhaustive list.  But off the top of my head, the fandoms I’m most familiar/comfortable with are as follows:

Authors (as in, I’ve read all or most of their books)

Patricia Briggs

Megan Whalen Turner

Michael Crichton

Marge Piercy

Stephenie Meyer

Dean Koontz

Stephen King

Neil Gaiman

K.A. Applegate

Ernest Hemingway

Tamora Pierce

Roald Dahl

Short Stories/Anthologies

A Good Man is Hard to Find, Flannery O’Connor

The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka

I Am Legend, Richard Matheson

Dubliners, James Joyce

Flowers for Algernon, Daniel Keyes

Who Goes There? John W. Campbell

The Man Who Bridged the Mist, Kij Johnson

Flatland, Edwin Abbott

I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream, Harlan Ellison

To Build a Fire, Jack London

An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, Ambrose Bier

At the Mountains of Madness/Cthulu mythos, H.P. Lovecraft

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Arthur Conan Doyle

The Things They Carried, Tim O’Brien

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Washington Irving

The Martian Chronicles, Ray Bradbury

Close Range: Wyoming Stories, E. Annie Proulx

The Curious Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevenson

Bartleby the Scrivener (and a bunch of others), Herman Melville

Books (Classics)

Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neal Hurston

The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The Secret Garden, Francis Hodgson Burnett

Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson

Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte

The Secret Annex, Anne Frank

Nine Stories, J.D. Salinger

Frankenstein, Mary Shelley

Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain

East of Eden, John Steinbeck

To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee

The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison

Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut

The Stranger, Albert Camus

The Call of the Wild, Jack London

Brave New World, Aldous Huxley

Lord of the Flies, William Golding

Atonement, Ian McEwan

1984, George Orwell

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

The Iliad/The Odyssey, Homer

Metamorphoses, Ovid

Journey to the Center of the Earth, Jules Verne

The Time-Machine, H.G. Wells

The Tempest, Much Ado About Nothing, Twelfth Night, Romeo and Juliet, Henry V, Hamlet, MacBeth, Othello, and The Taming of the Shrew, William Shakespeare

Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, Thomas Stoppard

Waiting for Godot, Samuel Beckett

Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood

Books (YA SF)

Young Wizards series, Diane Duane

Redwall, Brian Jaques

The Dark is Rising sequence, Susan Cooper

The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, Diana Wynne Jones

The Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis

Abhorsen trilogy, Garth Nix

The Giver series, Lois Lowry

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

Uglies series, Scott Westerfeld

Tuck Everlasting, Natalie Babbitt

A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin

Song of the Lioness, Tamora Pierce

A Wrinkle in Time, Madeline L’Engle

Unwind, Neal Shusterman

The Maze Runner series, James Dashner

The Enchanted Forest Chronicles, Patricia C. Wrede

Sideways Stories from Wayside School, Louis Sachar

Ella Enchanted, Gail Carson Levine

Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card

The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster

Coraline, Neil Gaiman

Among the Hidden, Margaret Peterson Haddix

The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, Avi

Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice

Poppy series, Avi

The Secret Life of Bees, Sue Monk Kidd

Tithe, Holly Black

Life as We Knew It, Susan Beth Pfeffer

Blood and Chocolate, Annette Curtis Klause

Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie

The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum

Haunted, Gregory Maguire

Weetzie Bat, Francesca Lia Block

Charlotte’s Web, E.B. White

East, Edith Pattou

Z for Zachariah, Robert C. O’Brien

The Looking-Glass Wars, Frank Beddor

The Egypt Game, Zilpha Keatley Snyder

The Book Thief, Markus Zusak

Homecoming, Cynthia Voigt

Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll

The Landry News, Andrew Clements

Fever 1793, Laurie Halse Anderson

Bloody Jack, L.A. Meyer

The Boxcar Children, Gertrude Chandler Warner

A Certain Slant of Light, Laura Whitcomb

Generation Dead, Daniel Waters

Pendragon series, D.J. MacHale

Silverwing, Kenneth Oppel

Good Omens, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

Define Normal, Julie Anne Peters

Hawksong, Ameila Atwater Rhodes

Heir Apparent, Vivian Vande Velde

Running Out of Time, Margaret Peterson Haddix

The Keys to the Kingdom series, Garth Nix

The Wolves of Willoughby Chase, Joan Aiken

The Seer and the Sword, Victoria Hanley

My Side of the Mountain, Jean Craighead George

Daughters of the Moon series, Lynne Ewing

The Midwife’s Apprentice, Karen Cushman

Island of the Aunts, Eva Ibbotson

The Night Circus, Erin Morgenstern

The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm, Nancy Farmer

A Great and Terrible Beauty, Libba Bray

A School for Sorcery, E. Rose Sabin

The House with a Clock in Its Walls, John Bellairs

The Edge Chronicles, Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell

Hope was Here, Joan Bauer

Bunnicula, James Howe

Wise Child, Monica Furlong

Silent to the Bone, E.L. Konigsburg

The Twenty-One Balloons, William Pene du Bois

Dead Girls Don’t Write Letters, Gail Giles

The Supernaturalist, Eoin Colfer

Blue is for Nightmares, Laurie Faria Stolarz

Mystery of the Blue Gowned Ghost, Linda Wirkner

Wait Till Helen Comes, Mary Downing Hahn

I was a Teenage Fairy, Francesca Lia Block

City of the Beasts series, Isabelle Allende

Summerland, Michael Chabon

The Geography Club, Brent Hartinger

The Last Safe Place on Earth, Richard Peck

Liar, Justine Larbalestier

The Doll People, Ann M. Martin

The Lost Years of Merlin, T.A. Barron

Matilda Bone, Karen Cushman

Nine Stories, J.D. Salinger

The Tiger Rising, Kate DiCamillo

The Spiderwick Chronicles, Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi

In the Forests of the Night, Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

My Teacher is an Alien, Bruce Coville

The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, Julie Andrews Edwards

Storytime, Edward Bloor

Magic Shop series, Bruce Coville

A Series of Unfortunate Events, Lemony Snicket

Veritas Project series, Frank Peretti

The Once and Future King, T.H. White

Raven’s Strike, Patricia Briggs

What-the-Dickens: The Story of a Rogue Tooth Fairy, Gregory Maguire

The Wind Singer, William Nicholson

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

The Trumpet of the Swan, E.B. White

Half Magic, Edward Eager

A Ring of Endless Light, Madeline L'Engle

The Heroes of Olympus, Rick Riordan

Maximum Ride series, James Patterson

The Edge on the Sword, Rebecca Tingle

World War Z, Max Brooks

Adaline Falling Star, Mary Pope Osborne

Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo

Children of Blood and Bone, Tomi Adeyemi

Parable of the Sower series, Octavia Butler

I, Robot, Isaac Asimov

Neuomancer, William Gibson

Dune, Frank Herbert

The Miseducation of Cameron Post, Emily M. Danforth

The Martian, Andy Weir

Skeleton Man, Joseph Bruchac

Comics/Manga

Marvel 616 (most of the major titles)

Marvel 1610/Ultimates

Persepolis

This One Summer

Nimona

Death Note

Ouran High School Host Club

Vampire Knight

Emily Carroll comics

Watchmen

Fun Home

From Hell

American Born Chinese

Smile

The Eternal Smile

The Sandman

Calvin and Hobbes

The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For

TV Shows

Fullmetal Alchemist

Avatar the Last Airbender

Teen Titans (2003)

Luke Cage/Jessica Jones/Iron Fist/Defenders/Daredevil/The Punisher

Agents of SHIELD/Agent Carter

Supernatural

Sherlock

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Firefly

American Horror Story

Ouran High School Host Club

Orange is the New Black

Black Sails

Stranger Things

Westworld

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

Movies

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Jurassic Park/Lost World/Jurassic World/Lost Park?

The Breakfast Club

Cloverfield/10 Cloverfield Lane/The Cloverfield Paradox

Attack the Block

The Prestige

Moon

Ferris Bueler’s Day Off

Django Unchained/Kill Bill/Inglourious Basterds/Hateful 8/Pulp Fiction/etcetera

Primer

THX 1138/Akira/How I Live Now/Lost World/[anything I’ve named a fic after]

Star Wars

The Meg

A Quiet Place

Baby Driver

Mother!

Alien/Aliens/Prometheus

X-Men (et al.)

10 Things I Hate About You

The Lost Boys

Teen Wolf

Juno

Pirates of the Caribbean (et al.)

Die Hard

Most Disney classics: Toy Story, Mulan, Treasure Planet, Emperor’s New Groove, etc.

Most Pixar classics: Up, Wall-E, The Incredibles

The Matrix

Dark Knight trilogy

Halloween

Friday the 13th

A Nightmare on Elm Street

The Descent

Ghostbusters

Ocean’s Eight/11/12/13

King Kong

The Conjuring

Fantastic Four

Minority Report/Blade Runner/Adjustment Bureau/Total Recall

Fight Club

Spirited Away

O

Disturbing Behavior

The Faculty

Poets

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Marge Piercy

Thomas Hardy

Sigfried Sassoon

W. B. Yeats

Edgar Allan Poe

Ogden Nash

Margaret Atwood

Maya Angelou

Emily Dickinson

Matthew Dickman

Karen Skolfield

Kwame Alexander

Ellen Hopkins

Shel Silverstein

Musicals/Stage Plays

Les Miserables

Repo: The Genetic Opera

The Lion King

The Phantom of the Opera

Rent

The Prince of Egypt

Pippin

Into the Woods

A Chorus Line

Hairspray

Evita

Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog

Fiddler on the Roof

Annie

Fun Home

Spring Awakening

Chicago

Cabaret

The Miser

The Importance of Being Earnest

South Pacific

Godspell

Wicked

The Wiz

The Wizard of Oz

Man of La Mancha

The Sound of Music

West Side Story

Matilda

Sweeney Todd

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

Nunsense

You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown/Snoopy

1776

Something Rotten

A Very Potter Musical

Babes in Toyland

Carrie: The Musical

Amadeus

Annie Get Your Gun

25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

The Final Battle

Rock of Ages

Cinderella

Moulin Rouge

Honk

Labyrinth

The Secret Garden

Reefer Madness

Bang Bang You’re Dead

NSFW

War Horse

Peter Pan

Suessical

Sister Act

The Secret Annex

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Disclaimer 1: Like a lot of people who went to high school in the American South, my education in literature is pretty shamefully lacking in a lot of areas.  (As in, during our African American History unit in ninth grade we read To Kill a Mockingbird, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn… and that was it.  As in, our twelfth-grade US History class, I shit you not, covered Gone With the Wind.)  There were a lot of good teachers in with the *ahem* Less Woke ones (how I read Their Eyes Were Watching God and The Bluest Eye) and college definitely set me on the path to trying to find books written/published outside the WASP-ier parts of the U.S., but the overall list is still embarrassingly hegemonic.

Disclaimer 2: There are a crapton of errors — typos, misspelled names, misattributions, questionable genre classifications, etc. — in here.  If you genuinely have no idea what a title is supposed to be, ask me.  Otherwise, please don’t bother letting me know about my mistakes.

Disclaimer 3: I am not looking for recommendations.  My Goodreads “To Read” list is already a good 700 items long, and people telling me “if you like X, then you’ll love Y!” genuinely stresses me the fuck out.

Disclaimer 4: There are no unproblematic faves on this list.  I love Supernatural, and I know that Supernatural is hella misogynistic.  On the flip side: I don’t love The Lord of the Rings at all, partially because LOTR is hella misogynistic, but I also don’t think that should stop anyone else from loving LOTR if they’re willing to love it and also acknowledge its flaws. 

[zeemonkey1]

Why?

“I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.” 

I wish I were lying about all of this.

I used to ask why a lot, y’all. Why Curious George does the things he does, why he gets away with it, why everyone defers to MYH like he is the Shiva, Brahma and Vishnu of the universe. Whatever pain-starved and masochistic readers I have left will no doubt agree that I have attempted in my ramblings to understand the why, and I have failed as utterly as when I tried to play basketball in high school. Know your role, saith the universe, basketball is not for you. Not only was basketball not for me, certain things were for me, and none of them were athletic, nor were they attractive to high school girls. That, in itself, was enough why and why me and why them to keep me filling notebooks with whiny, maudlin, cringy bullshit for years, chasing an unobtainable goal through various adolescent stages of goth, emo, grunge and whatever-the-fuck else in an attempt to be something (anything) different than what I was.

It took longer than it should have for me to realize that ca-caw, ca-caw and tookie, tookie DON’T WORK.

Yell for the monster all you want; he will not show up until his time is fulfilled.

Ask why all you wish; God will ignore you and focus on the what and the who because, if thou canst not draw out leviathan with a hook, then buddy, God ain’t got to explain shit, feel me?

ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die

Consider Kafka. There is no point, and that is the point. Sometimes people wake up as insects; sometimes people get arrested and stabbed for no reason at all. Sometimes people get beaten up by hoboes and change their name to “Negro.” Sometimes the moment is structured such that our protagonist lives in a village for no reason, has sex with a barmaid for no reason, and bides his time by fighting against a faceless bureaucracy for reasons he doesn’t understand towards a goal that doesn’t matter and we don’t even get to know what that goal is because Kafka died before he could finish Das Schloss. And anyway we wouldn’t even know or care if Max Brod would have just burned the notebooks filled with whiny, maudlin, cringy bullshit like he was supposed to.

The Man in the Yellow Hat knows what Kafka was throwing down. There is no point to the monkey; there is no purpose to be served. Life is a serious of random happenings that occur without our interaction, without our blessing, and without any manner of the control we like to think we have.

This is why clowns are funny.

This is why clowns are fucking terrifying.

Clowns do not follow the rules society has set down; they perpetually exist in a netherworld of obfuscation and misdirection. Why do they look like that? Why do they do all the patently ridiculous things they do? Why do they exist?

Because they do.

In this episode, MYH and George are traveling to a clown school. Nobody knows why other than a vague MacGuffin of wanting to see Pepe El Loco, ”the world’s greatest clown performer.”

But it is not a clown school.

It is madness.

And I don’t mean Lovecraftian Mountains of Madness, where the countless gibbering things at least have an unfulfilled hunger, a desire to devour , a desperate yearning to escape the foul darkness and feast upon the cracked psyches of all who behold them. I mean the kind of madness that plagues Pink Floyd’s Lunatic on the Grass, a meaningless madness, laughing at things that aren’t funny, laughing at nothing at all.

MYH almost finds a parking space, but then a clown car full of two other clown cars and like fifteen clowns cuts him off and steals it. Thus, it is the parking lot that becomes MYH’s Kafkaesque hellscape, and Curious George must brave the clown school alone. He is told to proceed to the ninth floor, where the Pepe El Loco show will be held.

First Floor: George sees a clown dancing with three dogs dressed as clowns around a fountain that is also a clown. The lobby looks like somebody paid Betsey Johnson to gravely insult Banksy using only decorations available at Party City. Another clown comes in, joy-buzzes himself for no reason, and leaves. Then, a messenger clown gets attacked by yet another clown who comes out of the elevator with a bucket filled with confetti.

Somehow, this means two things:

A. George cannot use the elevator. He must take the stairs.

B. George acquires the messenger clown’s bag, hat, and nose, which now makes George the messenger, like what happens to that suicidal guy in the Piers Anthony book about Death.

doctor you have to help me

Third Floor: George is distracted by a clown walking down the stairs on his hands. He forgets what floor he is on, and so opens the door on the third floor to ask for directions. The third floor looks like the playroom in that Richard Pryor movie The Toy. The woman behind the desk looks like one of the Murmurs joined the Swiss Guard and sounds like Fran Drescher.

She hands George what looks like a twisted green bongpipe and then genuflects to the portrait of Dear Leader Pepe El Loco on the wall. She explains that the bongpipe is part of the “greatest clown gadget ever” and George must go to the fifth floor to pick up another piece of it. George tries the elevator, but as soon as the doors open, a clown shoots another clown out of a cannon. The clown that is thus ejaculated bounces off a trampoline and back into the elevator. Who could use an elevator with all that mindless bullshit going on? Not George—back to the stairs.

Meanwhile, MYH finds another parking spot, but it is reserved for elephants. A clown shows up on an elephant and demands that he move. MYH keeps driving; elephant is parked. The clown leaves the elephant, but only after he hits a button on his keyring and the elephant-car-alarm beeps.

At this point, I paused the show and screamed at the heavens. The heavens did not answer.

i am sad and depressed

Fifth Floor: George is dumber than a football bat. I wonder if his intelligence fades in and out, like a variable Flowers for Algernon. Sometimes he can build fabulous machines. Sometimes he can solve mysteries. Today, trapped in the Tower of Madness, George cannot count from three to five, and thus must walk all the way down to the first floor and start over.

On the first floor the clown and his dogs are still dancing. Stop asking why—hear you nothing that I say?

On the fifth floor a clown riding a baby’s tricycle and sounding like Snagglepuss gives George some sord of weird-ass metal thingie with a red disk on the end of it like that orgasm-game Commander Riker played on TNG. This clown says go to the second floor. George still can’t count, so he goes down to the first floor and watches the clown and his dogs for a bit.

A worm crawling in my brain tried to make me say WHY? but I ignored it.

life is harsh and cruel

Second Floor: Second floor was just Paul Lynde bouncing around on bedsprings tied to his shoes. George collects another piece of metal tubing, heads down to the first floor to watch the dogs-and-clown, and then climbs the stairs up to the eighth floor.

pagliacci is a famous clown

Eighth Floor: Edith Bunker is dusting a bicycle seat in front of the Macedonian flag. She gives the seat to George and tells him to go to the fourth floor.

George has an epiphany. Instead of walking back down to the first floor and then up to the fourth, he can instead tape numbers to all his fingers and use them to subtract eight from four.

MYH is still circling the parking lot. As soon as he says “I’ll NEVER find a parking spot!” a clown jumps out of nowhere and paints a parking spot around his car.

I begin to believe Marcel Duchamp and Frank Zappa wrote this episode in a Navajo sweatlodge.

pagliacci is in town today

Fourth Floor: The fourth floor is the swimming level from Super Mario Brothers. A seal gives George something that looks like a can of pepper spray. A clown with a Minnesota accent unfolds from a filing cabinet and tells George to go to floor ten.

Now, follow me on this. We were told at the beginning that Pepe El Loco’s show happens on the ninth floor. That was the whole reason George and MYH came to the clown school. Now we know there is a floor above nine. Why this made me want to eat aquarium gravel will be soon made clear.

you should go see pagliacci

Tenth Floor: Clown on stilts gives George a toilet plunger and says he better hurry to the first floor to meet Pepe El Loco. George hurries. The clown and dogs are gone. MYH and the great Pepe El Loco are there.

pagliacci will cheer you up

FIN: They all take the stairs to the ninth floor. Pepe El Loco’s all-important gadget is a disassembled pogo stick with the plunger as the bouncy part. He gets to the center ring of a three-ring circus just in time to bounce around and do little flips with it.

Y’all.

Y’ALL.

The ninth floor of this ten-floor building is a cavernous bigtop the size of the dadgum Astrodome. The ceiling is made of vaulted tent-canvas.

There is no tenth floor. THERE IS NO TENTH FLOOR EVEN THOUGH I SAW GEORGE GO TO THE TENTH FLOOR AND RETRIEVE A TOILET PLUNGER FROM A CLOWN ON STILTS

but doctor I am pagliacci

[smokehqs]

LEONA PODMORE

Occupation: Locomotive Operator Age: 36 Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Blood status: Halfblood Allegiance: Order Faceclaim: Natasha Lyonne

It was different ten years ago when the dark lord first came to power, back then everyone your age wanted to do something to stop the fight by either sitting in the Ministry lobby and protesting their choices or looking for ways to get involved personally. The government always moved too slow for you and you felt so proud when Dumbledore asked you to join, but that’s been a long time ago and now you’re tired, you didn’t want to spend your entire life fighting, but there’s no way out except by going in the ground.

HISTORY:

Podmores had been “blood traitors” for a long time before Leona was born. A second generation halfblood, Leona grew up with little to no interaction with the muggle world, but everything she heard sounded amazing, and fragile, like porcelain figures on a glass showcase.    Their art was different, their transportation, too. Even their fairytales seemed to hold some sort of innocense that theirs never had. Curious of everything and anything Muggle, Leona spent a good ammount of her time on her grandmother’s lap, listening to stories of her childhood, before she even knew she was a witch.

Her childhood was an easy, happy period. Growing up in the Podmore farm, one of Scotland’s most important suppliers of plant-based potion ingredients, there was always room to run arround, her cousins always arround to play with her and Silas. It was like living in an oatmeal commercial, Leona would say when asked to describe it later on.  

When it became time to go to school, no one doubted she would get into Gryffindor, she was named after the house’s symbol after all. The one flaw Leona had, if you asked her, was that she was too predictable. She would become exactly who you’d expect her to be. Maybe a little more tomboyish than the Podmore’s would’ve liked, but just as heroic as they had always wanted, excelling in the practical subjects and needing extra help in theorical ones. But Leona became the perfect embodiment of the Podmore name without ever thinking about it, and that meant that, when the war came, she never kept her mouth shut about what she thought was right. And neither did the rest of the Podmore clan, obviously. Writing in to the Prophet with an essay on the rights of Muggles, Leona’s uncle Victor, the last pureblood with the Podmore name publicized their political views, and actively tried to shame other families that didn’t do the same.

She had recently become an full auror, and while the department was working on the war, its actions seemed to tame at the time. Like they didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation. Leona was glad someone in her family cared the right ammount. She cut out the essay and carried it in her pocket for days. But such actions could not go unpunished in the face of the Death Eater movement, and as punishment for the deed, the Podmore farm was arsoned, and Victor Podmore was found dead with his eldest daughter and wife a week later, becoming the first pureblood murder accredited to The Dark Lord.

The Podmore family took a hit after that.

Leona spent almost six months helping her family in their rebuilding efforts, cleaning the fields during the day and spending the night teaching herself the most dueling spells she could. Wandless magic had always come naturally to her, but this newfound need for vindication created a new bond between her and her wand she hadn’t felt before. After much hard work, the Podmores urged her to leave the farm, she had never planned to become a farmer, and they felt terrible she had had to postpone her plans for them. Leona had the fighty spirit of an Auror, they’d say when they knew she was eavesdropping. And she thought so, too.

It probably took her longer to fill out the paperwork to rejoin the Auror department than it took her to get kicked out. The Ministry was part of the problem, they couldn’t stand the people who actually wanted to get shit done, they didn’t respect people that actually got their hands dirty. Many were the drunken nights she spent moping to herself, and anyone who sat with her at the bar. She would get howlers about it from her family, urging her to not give up, worried she would be stuck in a cycle of bitterness forever. Telling her hitwizard was still an option, that bartending was not what she’d trained so hard for. And she knew it, of course, but what good had institutions ever done to her. What justice had the auror department given the Podmore family?

Leona decided that her family was half right, she would keep fighting, but she wouldn’t do it the way she always had. She relocated to Hogsmeade, got a new job, and started paying attention to any signs of large pureblood gatherings. To the rest of the world, Leona Podmore had given up and become a nobody. But if you payed atention, you’d notice there was a spark of crazy in her eyes that had just come back. The spark that could motivate her to do just about anything to put an end to this madness. It’s a spark Albus Dumbledore sees, and he makes an offer with the knowledge that Leona Podmore wouldn’t ever refuse.

She sees the Order grow, and she becomes close to every member she can. Every new face fills her with hope, that this conflict is closer to ending. They teach eachother spells, they become best friends during stake outs, they cry on eachother’s shoulders.

Two years go by, and the Order has the same ammount of people that they did when Leona joined. Numbers constantly fluctuate, and no matter what they try, they always end up back to the begining. Order Members arrested, fleeing, or worse, and Death Eaters living their fancy double lives in their opulent manors.

Five years go by, and they’re even less. Their chances of winning are even lower. She’s twenty nine and has more scars than she can count. And she’s hit with the realization that she doesn’t want to fight anymore. She starts preparing her things, she starts planning to run off. Engine workers get paid better in Amsterdam, she’ll leave, find a wife. Just this mission, and then she’s done. But then, that one goes well enough. The new recruits really are something, she thinks, and she’s sucked in an endless cycle of hoping and losing again. Postponing things for when she isn’t as needed, but that moment will never come, will it?

As she grows increasingly frustrated, Leona becomes more violent. It’s not even a conscious decision, it’s just that for the new kids to make it out sometimes it’s easier to curse them dead. Sometimes it’s better to use a spell so dark you promised yourself you’d try to forget about it. It’s a vice, because she has to admit she enjoys it a little. She enjoys the humiliation that they must feel, going back to work with a strange limp. She enjoys the headlines revealing who hides behind the mask. She even enjoys the looks Dumbledore throws her, the looks of regret. She wasn’t supposed to become this, Leona knows. But the sooner this war is over, the sooner she’ll have space to heal, to unpause her life. To become who she was supposed to become.

CONNECTIONS:

Edith Clearwater: Training

Silas Podmore: Siblings

Asher Westenberg: Used to date

Juniper Dunbar: Reminds her of her younger self

Isadora Pascal: Former friends

Gloriana Sykora: Doesn’t get along with

Patrick Finnegan: Friends

CLOSED · PENNED BY FIA

[asunafairywizardessheart]

Thanksgiving in the Country: Part 2. Farm Hands.

Elias/Asana

This continues from the last post. 

Warning: There’s a slight make out scene it’s not to NSFW but putting it there just in case.

Morning, and a soft sunlight filled her bedroom.

Slowly awakening, she didn't remember how she managed to get to bed or when she changed but at least she only suffered some memory loss as her head wasn't throbbing. She wondered if the expensive and higher content of alcohol she usually drank with Elias and his family strengthened her tolerance. It didn't matter though since she enjoyed mornings like this.

Her large window gave her a view of the grey blanketed sky above and the fresh snow which fell across the vacant fields. Even though she was back in her childhood bed, she wasn't alone for the cold air to strike her body. With the comfort of the blankets around her, she found Elias' strong arms cuddling her and felt his warm breath on her back as he tucked his body close to hers as he slept. To her, this was not only the warmest and happiest place but also the safest.

She had several places she wanted to show him and share her stories but last night's events eventually began crawling back to her. A part of her was still upset that her parents couldn't bring themselves to see how their relationship would work because of how different their lives were. They saw his name and not the kind person he was. Tracing her fingers up and down his arm, she wanted to see his face and gently tossed onto her other side.

Feeling her move, Elias' arms accommodated her like it was some instinct to do so and then they embraced her body as warm and secure as their last position. She smiled and studied his handsome god-like features as the soft sunlight kissed his velvety smooth skin, shimmered through his golden blonde hair and highlighted the length of his golden eyelashes. His expression was gentle and warm but seeing him sleep was a rarity for her since he was usually up before her.

“Thank you for last night,” she whispered, leaving a light kiss on his cheek, “I'm sorry they were being rude,” she said it quietly so not to disturb him and then, resting her hands on his chest, nuzzled her face into the fabric of his shirt and allowing herself to relax again.

She could hear his healthy heartbeat and could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His scent of cinnamon and melted chocolate wrapped in the warmth of his body that she inhaled deeply, captivated Despite the stress of introducing him to the family and the challenge to convince them to accept him, she felt soothed in this moment. Smiling in his embrace, she remembered something her grandmother once told her when she was little.

Most of the townspeople turned out to a celebration honouring her grandparents’ long marriage. Held on her Uncle’s vineyard, Asana was only fourteen when they celebrated her grandparents’ fifty years of marriage and wanted to know the secret since Joel’s parents were going through a divorce. “What’s your secret, Nan?” she approached her grandmother nibbling at cheese and crackers on the food table.

“My secret to what, darling?” Edith always spoke to her grandchildren with gentleness that they tended to approach her to talk openly about any topic whereas her grandfather was a little rough around the edges as a result of the war.

“Your marriage to Grandad,” she asked happily, “You still love him even after fifty years of marriage, there has to be some secret.”

Edith laughed with amusement at her serious question, “There’s no big secret sweetie,” she pinched a piece of cheddar cheese from the wooden platter on the table, “I still love him as I did fifty years ago, if not more.”

“Is that all it is?” Asana was confused, “You just love him. There has to be a reason.”

“Oh, there are several reasons,” she counted count just one and thought carefully on how to word her response to her young and curious granddaughter, “Your grandfather can come across as a strict and complicated man but he is very kind and would do absolutely anything for his family, but it’s because he wants to be so strong and never wants his family to see his weaknesses that he comes across as strict and harsh. So, there are several sides I know of him that not many other people do, and a person only shows you their weaknesses when they trust and love you.”

“I see,” she tried to understand but her head was tilted with confusion.

“Your father and Uncle and our precious grandchildren are the most important people in your grandfather’s eyes,” Edith continued, “Our family we built together makes us love each other even more because our children and grandchildren are our legacy.”

“I still don’t get it.”

Edith chuckled at her again, “You are a beautiful and wonderful girl and someday when you meet someone you will understand what it means to love somebody more than yourself,” she promised.

“How would I know?” Asana wasn’t sure she would, “Is it how you know you love Grandad?”

Edith didn’t agree, “Not always. Think of a relationship like a fingerprint,” she began to explain it in a way that was easier to understand, “Marriage is, on the surface, the same concept but the markings of each relationship are different because the people in those relationships are different. In my own experience and opinion, I could not imagine my life without your grandfather and I love everything about him from his strengths to his greatest flaws. More importantly, I enjoy his company and I still miss him when he’s out for hours on the farm. He relaxes me, makes me feel safe and loved and always helped out with the kids too.”

“…What you’re saying is,” she tried to make sense of her words, “Grandad is the one person you can’t see yourself without?”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Edith agreed, “What I can tell you is a marriage works when the love is alive and communication is still open and natural. When I sleep next to him, he still holds me the same way he used to when we were younger. When I feel his breath and heartbeat, I still feel how much I do love him. That’s my own experience though, you will have yours too.”

She was about to walk away and then turned around to her granddaughter, “Love is an energy, Asana, and it has to be felt all through your body and with the entirety of your heart and soul. If you can’t, then the love has died. As our own life is ours to decide, not even we are in control in how long it lasts. Love is similar to that because love is life, your Grandfather and I have our children and if your parents didn’t love each other they wouldn’t have you and your brother. You won’t understand now, but you will when you find that one person you can make a life with.”

Looking at Elias, she finally understood what her grandmother was trying to tell her fourteen-year-old self. The sound of his heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of his breath, the feel of his warming in embrace and skin and his welcoming scent, soothed her heart and stirred her deep feelings of love for him, “I get it now,” she murmured and smiled, moving her face to take in more of his profile.

He looked somewhere between cute and handsome while he slept through the morning. Peering over his shoulder, she tried to read the time on her alarm clock, her mother had it set her room in order in lieu of her arrival. It was only quarter to nine but she was in no hurry to wake up, “…Good morning,” Elias’ morning voice had a sexy deepness to it that made her heart leap. As she looked over his shoulder to the clock on the bedside table, she looked down into his violet eyes as he greeted her.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” she relaxed in his arms again.

Elias pulled her closer to him, “I did, you sure did too.”

“…Ah,” she blushed, “I drank a little too much last night, didn’t I?”

He smiled at her gently, “Well, if I wasn’t already well aware how much your parents didn’t like me, asking them where your room is because you passed out on my shoulder topped off the most awkward dinner I have ever been a part of,” his arms circled around her body warmly since it still felt too cold to leave the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she desperately apologized turning onto her back, “…God, I feel so selfish,” she hid her face behind her hands with her cheeks bathed in red embarrassment, “Here you are being amazing and I ended up getting passed out drunk on you because of how horribly they spoke to you. Mom even called our relationship a mistake,” she felt angry.

Raising his body up and covering half of hers, he peeled her hands away from her face, “Hey, don’t be that way,” he kissed the back of her hands, “I understand why they were being protective of you. You are very loved by your family for your smile and cheerful personality and they just don’t want to see you sad.”

“But, I’m not sad,” she argued, “I’m incredibly happy with you, Elias.”

“I could tell but how you were watching me sleep,” he teased and dipping his hands under the mattress to press her boy against his, “I’m happy with you too and sometimes actions speak louder than words,” his face came closer and he felt her arms wrap around his neck to accept his morning kiss.

“Were…,” they kissed while they spoke, “…Were you awake?”

“I woke up when I felt you toss over,” he admitted and smiled as they kissed.

“Sorry,” she whispered her apology, “I was trying to be quiet.”

“It’s fine,” he kissed her again, “These k-kisses are making up for it. But, I’m curious.”

Their kisses were light and gentle but she could feel her body igniting, “About?” her fingers combed through the small hairs on his neck as she smiled at him.

“You said you ‘get it’, what did you get?” he searched her dreamy pink eyes only to see the desire he had stirred up with his kisses on her lips.

She felt her cheeks turn red as he became surprised to see her dreamy eyes looking up at him. It felt silly to become this work up over his kisses but it was the feelings of love which had bubbled earlier that really sparked her mood, “…Ju-Just remembering something my grandmother told me once.”

“Tell me,” he prompted her with his lips travelling from her lips to her jaw and teasing her neck. He could hear her breathing hitch as his lips applied light kisses across her face and his hand gripped at her thigh to bring her right leg around his as he positioned himself right over the top of her as he felt his desire for her climb.

Cuddled into her soft and warm skin as she was pinned underneath him and seeing her eyes wet with desire for him had awakened his own feelings of love. Her hair smelt like fresh air and her body had an alluring fragrance of rose, strawberry and coconut that attracted him to her femininity. Her angelic voice and pink smile also captivated his attention and his heartbeat began to race slightly.

“Well,” she decided to tell him because she never wanted to keep things a secret, “When I was fourteen we celebrated my grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary and at the time, when Joel and I were still best friends, his parents were going through a divorce. So, I asked her how it had survived so long, what was the secret,” Elias’ lips travelled across to her ear where he applied light kisses underneath it where her skin curved to connect her face and neck.

“What did she say?” Elias whispered in her ear.

As Elias kissed her, she found it increasingly hard to concentrate on anything other than him, “…She…she said there was no big secret other than feeling that love is alive and communication is open. Where a person can relax and be themselves with no hesitation around each other, showing their weaknesses and strengths. Loving the pieces that make up a person’s personality, even their flaws. At the time, I didn’t understand what she meant but…now…now I do.”

“…!” Elias’ lips stopped kissing her and he pulled his face away so he could look at her, “…You mean because…of me?” he turned a shade of pink.

She nodded and felt embarrassed too, “…When you cuddle me while we sleep, it makes me feel safe, warm and happy, but when I feel your heartbeat, feel you breathing, smell your scent, and kiss you…I can’t describe in words how much I love you but I feel it through every inch of me. I could say how much I love and I can show you but I always feel like it’s not enough.”

“…You…are making it very hard for me to be a gentleman to you right now.”

She didn’t mean to stir him but she wanted to be honest, “Sorry,” she apologized and brought her lips to his, “…I just wanted to be honest with you.”

“Ah,” he struggled to control himself, “…Thank you, I love you too,” he was glad she said it because he felt the same way, “…To be honest, I feel the same way when I watch you sleep too.”

“…When do you watch me sleep?”

“Well,” he felt shy to admit it but since she was honest with him, he wanted to be honest with him, “…I’m usually up before you and you have kind of moved into my apartment but I never have it in my heart to wake you up and let you sleep longer. Sometimes, I just…get captivated by your beauty…and, yeah…” he trailed off shyly, “…I think about how deep I am with you and often think about our future together. I never felt this way before, not even with my ex. You…you’re special to me.”

He wanted to look away but Asana gently turned his face so he would look at her, wondering if the reason why it was so easy to pretend to be engaged was because that’s what they really wanted, “…You’re special to me too,” she raised her head to meet his lips, “…I really don’t want you to be a gentleman right now,” she pulled him closer to her and was ready to make love to him that morning.

“…I want to,” his head rested on her chest, fighting the temptation to touch her, “…However, I feel I would be disrespecting your family by making love to you in your childhood home and bed. Not that I don’t want to, I just don’t want to ruin any chances of earning their acceptance.”

She understood but she needed to do something about her urges, “I understand,” she said and accidentally nudged her nose against his as she sought a kiss from his lips, “I want to kiss you though,” she cutely brushed her lips against his.

They smiled and Elias could comply with her request, “I can do that,” Elias pressed his lips against hers passionately and hungrily, following her lips as her head gently fell against the pillows beneath her head.

For several minutes, their bodies moved together as they touched each other’s skin and their lips hungrily sought out each other’s taste. Positioned between her legs, his clothed body pressed against hers and felt her gentle hands feel the muscles in his body moved with him. Likewise, she felt Elias’ large hands disappear up her top to her breasts. “Ah!” she moaned and tried to arch her back in reply to his touch in her sensitive area and his lips descended her neck. He didn’t want to stop but after several minutes of passionately kissing and touching each other’s bodies, he finally pulled away leaving her partially satisfied.

Panting breaths filled the quiet room as Elias laced his fingers through hers and he came to rest his forehead on hers, “That will have to do you for now,” he breathed but his words betrayed his desire, he wanted more of her but couldn’t bring himself to have sex with her in her family home. He closed his eyes to regather whatever control he could and she studied his expression with a smile.

“…Are you okay?” she asked, stroking her fingers up and down the small of his back where she had raised his shirt above his waist.

He nodded, “…Yeah.” Rolling off her body, he rubbed his hands down his face and inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm his racing heart, “…I just find it difficult to control myself when it comes to you.”

“Likewise,” Asana agreed but didn’t press him into anything he was uncomfortable doing, “…I didn’t want you to stop either,” she admitted and reached out to hold his hand, “But, I understand why you don’t want to you and I’m not going to pressure you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

He squeezed her hand, “Thanks,” he leaned over a gave her a gentle kiss, “It’s past nine, should we make an appearance for breakfast?” Elias questioned since he didn’t hear much movement beyond her bedroom.

“Dad and Grandad are probably out on the field and Mom has probably gone into town to help with the festival preparations,” Asana thought out loud, “Though, I’m going to have a shower first but feel free to head down if you want. My brother should still be hanging around if he’s not out on the field too.”

After speaking with her brother for a few moments last night while carrying Asana to bed in his arms, he felt at ease talking to Tobias, Edith and Lucas than he did the rest of her family. Her mother was sweet and kind like Asana but she made it very clear last night that she didn’t like the idea of him being involved with her daughter while her father and grandfather were two men he didn’t want to be alone out of fear of what they could say.

“Okay,” Elias liked her plan and simply put on a change of fresh clothes for the day.

Finding a long sleeved grey cotton shirt and a pair of warm jeans, he quickly changed while Asana showered. His eyeline attracted to the row of photos lined across her bookshelf that he had noticed last night. There were several school photographs and commemorative photos of her champion strength in gymnastics. Next to her holding her high school graduation certificate, he found her dressed beautifully in her prom dress standing next to a black-haired boy, he assumed was Joel. Nothing had really changed about her appearance only that she had matured into her beauty.

Setting the photographs gently where they stood, he smiled towards the bathroom and heard the running water splash onto the floor and travel through the drains. He left her room and shyly and slowly padded his way across the hall taking in the framed photographic art along the way, most of it he assumed was Tobias’ handiwork from all his adventures. However, one image caught his eye and that was a little girl about ten years old, smiling and bonding with a tiger cub and kissing the tip of its pink leather nose. Remastered in black and white, the portrait had a powerful image but he didn’t need to read the art’s title to know the little girl in the image was Asana.

Her smile, he recognized it immediately.

“Like it?” suddenly, he heard a voice from beside him and saw Tobias stretching his limbs into the air as he exited his bedroom to begin the day only to see Elias gazing warmly at the portrait.

“…It’s a powerful image,” he could see the meaning behind the image, “A little girl bonding with a different creature happily, and even after all these years she still has the same love and passion for animals as she does here.”

Tobias couldn’t argue with those words, “…You’re right. Asana told you what I do for a living, didn’t she?”

“You are a wildlife and natural landscape photographer, right?” Elias had seen several of his publications because Asana has a large folder in her apartment and is an avid subscriber to the many magazines he has been published in, “Asana collects all your photos when they are published in magazines, even subscribes to the magazines you are prominently published in. She’s very proud of your work.”

“I didn’t know she did that,” Tobias cocked up an eyebrow at his comment, “That’s a small part of my job though. I am a photographer as well as a cinematographer too but I am also an ecologist and biologist. My job is to study and assess different habitats, record population numbers and research the behaviours and characters of different animals. I’m a firm believer in my photographs doing the talking rather than writing three-thousand-word research papers.”

“A picture can paint a thousand words,” Elias could see what he meant just by looking at the black and white portrait of Asana with the tiger cub, “Where was this taken?” he pointed to the portrait.

“Our cabin in the research facility of the Sikhote Alin mountain ranges on the reserves for Siberian or Amur Tigers,” he answered, “Asana went with Dad out on the track with one of the other research members and along the way they found a dead tiger with two of her cubs hiding behind some dense shrubs. Unfortunately, the mother’s death was poachers who had shot her but one tiger cub, I think, adopted Asana as its surrogate. She held it as they took the two orphans back to the hospital but when she left it just cried for her.”

Elias smiled, “Animals just follow her, don’t they?”

“Animals have always loved her, more than Dad and he’s a vet too,” Tobias chuckled but returned to the story he was sharing, “Asana and the cub had an instant bond and the doctors tending to the cub coped with the cub’s anxiety by letting it come back to our cabin. They trusted Asana because of how gentle she was with it and because Dad would be with her. I think, in hindsight, it was this experience and bond that ignited her passion for animals. Sure, Dad and I might have had something to do with it, but I think the trigger was this cub. I was only experimenting with taking photographs at the time but when I rediscovered this I couldn’t keep it part of our private collection. It carried a strong and emotional message about interactions between humans and animals, especially now when this breed of tiger is in danger of extinction.”

“You do exhibits too?” Elias remembered Asana mentioning it once.

Tobias nodded and began to walk down the stairs, “You drink coffee?” he asked.

“I do,” Elias followed him comfortably to the kitchen.

“Great, come down and have a cup with me,” he invited, taking a likeness to his little sister’s fiancée, “Is Asana awake?”

“She’s showering,” Elias answered him.

At the bottom of the stairs, the ash white and grey fur of Asana’s cat met the two men and began meowing and rubbing up against Tobias’ legs. “Are you hungry Casper?” he picked up the large feline and rubbed his hand against the fluffy fur, “Come on then.”

Disappearing into an adjacent room next to the kitchen, Elias could hear the rattle of cat nuts and Casper’s happy meow as he dived his head into the bowl to soothe his hunger. Not sure if he was invited to help himself to a coffee, Elias waited for Tobias to reappear before turning on the kettle already full of water and slightly warm with two dirty mugs sitting in the silver sink.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Tobias called from the room where Casper’s food bowls were, “Just going to quickly feed the dogs. We have two German shepherds and a border collie who help us tend to the livestock, won’t be a moment.”

He flicked the switch to the kettle and heard a loud rumble as it began to boil the water inside. He wasn’t sure where they kept their mugs but opened several cabinets overhead and under the benches. He heard footsteps behind him and a cheerful voice which belonged to her mother.

“Oh, are you looking for a mug?” she asked.

Quickly, he closed the cupboard like he had crossed a line since her parents made it very clear last night they didn’t not approve of his relationship with Asana and he was sure her father didn’t like him as a person. Elias spun around and blushed with embarrassment, “Oh, yes,” he was surprised to see Charlotte since Asana was certain she had gone to town to prepare for the festival, “Asana’s in the shower and Tobias just went to feed the animals. They said I could help myself but they did not tell me where the cups were,” he desperately explained himself.

Charlotte giggled at him, “Relax, Elias,” she walked over to an overhead brown timber cupboard in between the pantry and stove but above the bench where the kettle was rumbling, “Here you go,” she dragged four cups out of the cabinet including a cup that had the design of a cat. The handle curled like a cat’s tail and the print on the side of the cup was a black and white image of a panther.

Elias heard a door close somewhere in the distance and heard another one shut nearby. Snow was dragged through the kitchen as Tobias completed his chore of feeding the dogs while upstairs he could hear footsteps creaking along floorboards.

“Oh Mom,” Tobias expressed his surprise seeing his mother was still at home, “I didn’t know you were still home,” he put away the dog food and went to the fridge to pull out the milk for their coffees.

“I can make you coffee if you would like, Mrs Way?” Elias offered as he watched her spoon sugar and coffee into each cup.

Kindly, she shook her head, “Oh, I can’t ask you to do that Elias,” she smiled, “You are our guest. How many sugars do you take?”

“Three please.”

“Three?!” Charlotte had to double check that is what he said.

Elias shyly replied, “…Sorry, I have a slight sweet tooth.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” she wasn’t judging him but his answer surprised her, “I have a regular customer in my café who orders a cappuccino with a vanilla shot and three sugars. I was just surprised because you look like the kind of person who likes bitter and sour foods, I didn’t take you for a sweet tooth.”

It didn’t surprise him since many people thought that of him, even Asana when she discovered his sweet tooth was surprised and now found his sweet tooth adorable, “I get that reaction quite a lot actually, even Asana was surprised when she discovered that side of me.”

“She can’t talk,” Tobias laughed.

With a click, the kettle turned off and Charlotte poured hot water into each cup and stirred with expert skill. She handed Elias his and Tobias grabbed his for himself, “Elias, I want to apologise for last night,” Charlotte sincerely apologized as they hung around the kitchen, “I know I upset Asana but if I touched on a sensitive issue, I would like to apologise. I can see how special you are to Asana.”

“It’s alright,” Elias didn’t mind, “If I am going to be a part of Asana’s life I want those important to her to know me to.”

“So, you there is a sensitive issue present when it comes to you and your family?” Tobias asked.

Elias sipped from his coffee and then quietly answered him, “…My father and I have never exactly seen eye-to-eye but we are starting to rebuild our relationship. My brothers and I figured out when we were children that money is a good thing to have to make life comfortable but it is not the most important thing about life.”

“That’s very true,” Charlotte agreed, “Has Asana met your family?”

“She has, yes,” Elias nodded, “My family are very fond of her. They look forward to seeing more of her in the future.”

“Are you the youngest of your siblings?” Tobias asked.

“I am,” Elias answered honestly and comfortably as he felt relaxed now the tension from last night had disappeared, “My eldest brother Julius, he’s a lawyer too, is seven years older than me and he’s married to my sister-in-law, Elaine. My second brother Klaus is five years older than me but he’s a junior lecturer now but he’s studying to become a professor teaching politics, business and law at the same university Asana and I attend.”

“I see,” Charlotte sipped from her coffee cup but still her mind was full of doubts, “I remember a few years ago reading about a story in the newspaper regarding you and an ex-girlfriend going through quite an ugly break-up. I would hate to see the same thing happen to my daughter, that’s why I worry if she marries you and you divorce what she would lose?”

Elias didn’t expect her to bring up the ugliness of his last relationship. Emotionally, it prevented him from opening his heart up for a long time and would usually hide from dancing with other girls at events. “She…was a mistake,” Elias stared into the brown warm liquid of his mug, “…A very big mistake.”

“Is she what you meant when you said girls born into wealth are after nothing but money?” Tobias wondered.

“…I loved her, always had a crush on her,” Elias began, “She blinded me with her kindness when she was a manipulative and deceiving person. Similar to Asana and Joel, we were lovers in high school. After about a year and a half together she started sleeping with the star of the football team behind my back and had filmed and photographed us together in bed. She posted photos of us around school and used the footage to extort me for my family’s money. I said no, so she played the footage during a fundraiser my mother and sister-in-law organized to assist victims of sexual assault and abuse. As a result, my mother and sister-in-law both suffered money loss and support for their causes and I was hounded by the media. My father’s career suffered too from the humiliation. Of course, she took advantage of the attention, gaining some fame, and making money from it. Eventually, my father stepped in a sued for defamation seeking damages. I found it hard to trust again.”

“How horrible to treat someone like that,” Charlotte disapproved of his ex-girlfriend now that she knew the whole story, “Is Asana your first relationship since your ex?”

Elias nodded but his past relationship with his ex-girlfriend no longer played on his mind now that he found Asana, although he had his reservations when they started to know each other, “She is,” he sipped from his coffee, “My relationship with my ex-girlfriend ended in high school but it did prevent me from getting close to her when I first met her. We didn’t get along straight away because I think we were both overcoming the pain our ex-partners caused us but after getting to know each other I think we gradually opened up to each other and fell in love with each other.”

He didn’t know it but Asana lingered in the hallway listening to him opening up to her mother and brother. Elias continued to speak while sipping at his warm coffee, “I understand why you are worried about Asana becoming involved with me, but even if this didn’t work out it wouldn’t be because of something as cruel as being cheated on or exploited for money or fame. Asana’s not the kind of girl and I’m not that kind of guy. Honestly, I despise my world much more than anyone else here but I can’t help being born into that world so I try to live my life the way I want to and so long as Asana stays with me, I will protect her.”

Pressing her hand over her heart, Asana tried to calm it as it beat hard from the happiness she felt hearing his words. Charlotte happily replied, somewhat relieved of her worries as he was honest with his words, “…In that case, how can I argue?” she rhetorically questioned, “Every time I have spoken to Asana over the phone, she always speaks very highly of you and I can see you are a nice man. Even if we end up talking about something else, it’s as though she spends every minute of her day with you. She loves you, so I guess I’m just going have to trust you to make her happy and trust her decision. My husband and his father might need quite a bit of convincing.”

Asana tried to hide her wide smile as her mother finally accepted Elias but she had to enter as casually as possible because she didn’t want them to know she was eavesdropping as they spoke. She then heard Tobias, “I have an exhibit coming up next year in the city and I will be auctioning off my images. Usually, I do it so I can raise money to fund my travels but this time I will be raising money to build a nature reserve for lions and leopards as well as other animals too. Feel free to come by and check it out, Mom and Dad will be coming so it might be a good opportunity for both parents to meet?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Charlotte agreed, “Though, your father might be apprehensive about meeting with Elias’ father after all these years. He still hasn’t forgotten the last time they had met.”

Elias had no response since he knew how complicated his father could be. He would most likely has forgotten all about representing the agricultural college during his younger days as a lawyer but he could surprise Elias with his extraordinary memory. Silence briefly fell between them until Tobias looked to his mother, “Did Uncle Lucas go home last night?”

“He left early this morning,” Charlotte narrowed her eyes, “That Bradley Aston came by the winery again to inspect his winery. Walking around the place like he already owned the place.”

“Lucas isn’t selling,” Tobias chuckled, “He’s determined to get him to sell.”

“I know,” Charlotte agreed with Tobias, “He called your father to vent about him. Apparently, the man threatened him to sell and promised he would receive proper payment for making his wine an international best-seller among the high class. Lucas told him where he could go but the guy still hung around inspecting the place.”

Asana used the opportunity to enter the room, walking up to Elias, “Your coffee’s probably cold by now,” he said, “Do you want me to make you a new one?”

“It’s okay,” she declined, “I really want to show you the farm before we head to town. I just heard you say something about the guy trying to force Uncle Lucas to sell his winery, Mom.”

“Persistent is what I would call him but if he’s not careful, Lucas and your grandfather will lose their tempers at him,” she could guarantee Fred would pull out his shotgun to scare the pants off the city man, “That’s all this family needs, a lawsuit because your grandfather pulled out his shotgun on him.”

“It’s more than what he deserves,” Tobias sided with his grandfather but understood they couldn’t afford to be sued by some pretentious rich man from the city, “But, if Grandad pulled out his shotgun, even fire a warning shot, he’d get done for it. He’d lie and make up some reason to sue him and take this land from out underneath him.”

“Why is he so persistent to acquire the farm and winery?” Asana curiously asked.

“It’s worth money,” Tobias shrugged, “Lucas’ grapes are rich and ripe and the soil here is full of nutrients. Dad said this Aston guy wants Grandad and Lucas to sign ownership of the properties to him, they would retain the right to live on the land and make money from the harvests but they can be forced from the property any time and this Aston fellow can sell to foreign buyers for investment.”

“In other words, he wants to evict your family from their land,” Elias summarized, “Can’t say I have ever heard of this Bradley Aston guy, does he have a company name he works for? If he’s trying to bully and intimidate your Uncle and Grandfather into signing, it’s an illegal contract.”

“I think he said he’s the CEO of AgIndustries International,” Charlotte answered, “He’s also hanging around for the festival but the mayor has already told him it’s for community people only. That’s how much the farmers around here despise him.”

“So, he’s not just after our property?” Asana asked.

Tobias thought carefully, “Dad said Bill and Judith have been approached by him but they have no intentions of selling up either.”

“Why would he be interested in those farms?” Asana didn’t get it, “They only focus on growing one thing. Judith grows olives and Bill is experimenting with aquaponics to enter the vegetable market but he’s a cattle farmer.”

“Judith makes sense since she manufactures her own olive oil but Bill has no international market for his cattle,” Charlotte could see the potential in their farms, “Neither want to sell up either since Judith’s son is going to take over the family business and Bill’s grandson and his wife are thinking over taking over for him.”

It was a hot topic of conversation around town as it seems but Asana couldn’t help but express her worry that this man’s threats and harassment of her family was stressing her grandfather out and it made her mad, “This property has been in our family for generations, does he not care that he’s trying to steal a war veteran’s farm?”

“War veteran?” Elias tilted his head, “…Is that where he sustained those burn marks on his hands?”

Asana nodded, “Yeah, Grandad handled explosives in the mortar platoon against the Japanese. He doesn’t talk about the war often and doesn’t like it when people stare at them or mention it, but he’s not afraid to pull a gun out on someone to scare the hell out of them,” she explained and felt sympathy for her beloved grandfather, “I know he’s a harsh and strict man, but he’s kind and I hate that someone is trying to exploit him like this. It’s not fair!”

Seeing the anger flicker in her eyes, Elias reached for his cell phone and sent a text to his brother asking for him to look into this Aston and his company as a favour to Asana and her family but he would keep an eye out for this guy and if he caused any more trouble for her family could help to protect them.

However, he didn’t want her to stress either and looked out to the snow-covered fields. He could see her grandmother’s figure going between a shed and the barn and her father tending to a horse, “We can deal with that guy when he gets here,” Tobias followed Elias gaze out the window with Charlotte noticing the determined flicker in his eye, “Go give him a tour of the place, if he’s interested.”

Already dressed for the outside, Asana wore a pleated white long-sleeved sweater with a black puffer jacket and grey scarf, “Would you like to come out to see the farm?” she asked and then turned to Charlotte, “But, aren’t you going into town soon to help with the ball preparations. I can help you?”

Charlotte shook her head, “No, no, you go on ahead,” she swallowed the last of her coffee, “However, if you don’t mind Elias, could you move your car? You parked behind me.”

“Oh, of course,” he would have to grab his keys from Asana’s room and smiled over to her, “If you don’t mind, I would love to see the farm. I want to know what those white shed things are.”

She laughed, “Have you never seen greenhouses before?”

“Those are greenhouses?” he felt silly in not realizing sooner.

“Grandad invested in them to shield his crops from the snow,” she reached for a thermos cup and reheated her coffee in the microwave, “After you move your car, I’ll show you. Bring a jacket and a good pair of boots,” she warned.

“Tobias, you can help us prep the town for the ball,” Charlotte volunteered him despite his protest expressed through his facial expression, “Come on, and Asana bring him into town for the festival.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Elias ran up to her room and grabbed his keys, tucking them into the pockets of his jeans. Around his neck, he wrapped a woolen grey knit-scarf around his neck and covered his body with a black cotton trench coat. His grey scarf filled the open collar but he tied the circular buttons to hug the coat to his body. He cut a clean and city-like look as the fabric accentuated his straight and fit posture. After moving his car, Asana waited for him outside, excited to finally show him her family’s farm and he found that he was rather excited too. He had never seen a proper farm before and it was a new side to Asana he would see.  

“Have you ever been on a quad bike?” she asked, “Grandad is probably down in the greenhouse right now, so he could tell you more about the plants than I could,” she pulled a set of keys from her pocket and guided him to the a two-person quad with two seats, a roof and a back tray that made it look more like a golf caddy than a farmer’s quad bike.

“Can this thing even go through the snow?” he asked.

“Yep,” Asana nodded, “Grandad and Dad usually forge a track with the tractor to make it easier to get down to the greenhouses and the cows up the back.”

Turning on the ignition, she put the quad in gear and gently drove away from the house. Smoothly, the engine purred meaning the vehicle was kept in running order. Strolling past the barn, Asana stopped to greet her grandmother a good morning and made eye contact with her father tending to her horse.

“Morning Nan,” she greeted her with a smile, “What’s going on with Estelle?”

“I’m not too sure but your grandfather woke your father up early to take a look at her,” she replied and looked to Elias, “Good morning Elias, hope you slept well?”

“Slept very peacefully,” he said happily, despite hearing Asana’s light snoring next to him. Of course, she wasn’t loud enough for her snores to rumble through her room, but he was cuddled close to her to hear her breath wheezing through her nostrils but rather than waking him up he settled into a slumber while hearing it. He decided not to mention it though, and instead compared the noisy city streets with the peacefulness of the country night, “I am used to hearing sirens or people through the city at night but out here it I find it very peaceful.”

“Since you’re here,” Edith wondered if he’d like a tour of the barn, “Come meet some of the animals in here,” she invited him and Asana turned off the ignition to the quad.

All his life he had pictured barns like they did in children’s books where they were bright red and dome shaped. It wasn’t close to the house but was still in eyesight of the colonial homestead but even closer to her grandparents’ little cottage but still at a distance where the stench wouldn’t disturb their living quarters. Made of smooth pine, the barn resembled an alpine cabin and close by were the compost bins, a winter chook pen and the horse stables and exercise ground they used when the fields returned to green and wildflowers.

Usually open to bring in fresh air for the animals, Edith had the doors closed and opened some large windows and turned on the circulation fan to keep up the supply of fresh oxygen while keeping the chickens warm from the icy cold. Holding hands with Asana, he analysed the design of large interior. Floors were wooden but dark steel frames scaled from floor to the high-scaled roof. Stretched across the left side of the barn was a fence wired with mesh to keep the chickens from escaping.

Covered in a warm layer of yellow-brown straw, he felt nervous entering the chook pen because of how sharp their beaks were, “I haven’t checked if they have laid eggs Asana, do you mind looking for me,” Edith asked, leaving her with Elias.

“Sure Nan,” Asana smiled, “Would you like to help?”

“…Sure,” he was nervous as their little heads bobbed back and forth as they walked around their feet, “…Um, they aren’t going to peck me, are they?”

She giggled as he nervously and carefully crept around the chickens of black, brown and white coloured feathers, “They might but it’s not intentional,” she assured him, “They tend to jump out of the way when you walk near them,” as she said, a brown feathered hen jumped out of her way as she held Elias’ hand leading him towards the back of the coop.

A cube of hand-made shelves covered the back wall. Separated into nine separate laying beds, shredded hay and paper made a comfortable bed for laying hens with a small ladder helping the chickens up to the higher beds. Four hens were resting in different beds and he became scared they were going to leap at him if he disturbed them, “How do I check to see if there are eggs?” he asked and followed Asana as she crouched down to inspect the lowest laying beds, though he looked behind him in case a chicken decided to peck him.

“Relax,” she giggled and thought he was adorable the way he was being cautious and gentle around the hens, “We don’t disturb hens which are resting just in case they are in the process of laying. There are no roosters in here so we don’t have to be concerned if any of these eggs have young.”

“So, I just search the beds without chickens for eggs concealed in the straw?”

“Exactly,” she nodded and proceeded to rummage through the straw to find any eggs, “You have to really look because some of the chickens like to cover the eggs in straw or they accidentally kick straw over them. You try it,” she encouraged him.

He rummaged through the laying bed next to the one she was inspecting and felt a hard shell under his fingertips, “There’s some in here,” he excitedly announced and collected three eggs out of the one bed. Unlike the eggs in the supermarket, the shell felt incredibly smooth and the pigmentation varied between white, deep brown and golden brown and varied in size with the white eggs being smaller than the brown ones, “Where do I put them?”

Asana stretched out her shirt to create a sling basket, “In here, and check the rest.”

He became comfortable around the chickens as he helped find eggs through the laying beds. Studying his expression, she couldn’t help but smile at the adorable excitement expressed through his violet eyes and face. It reminded her of a child looking for chocolate Easter eggs during a treasure hunt but this was a brand-new experience for him and she was happy to see him helping. Unknown to them, but they were being watched by Edith and Owen.

“She’s very happy Owen,” Edith tapped his arm as he eyed Elias evilly.

“…I still don’t like him,” Owen huffed but could see how happy she was with Elias.

“He’s even willing to help us out,” Edith acknowledged he was trying and didn’t complain.

“Children can collect eggs,” Owen didn’t buy it and helped his mother prepare the feed for the horses.

“You shouldn’t judge him just because he’s born into a wealthy family and he grew up in the city, that’s not his fault,” she lectured her son to be more welcoming of Elias for Asana’s sake, “If she has fallen for him we must respect her decision. You can’t tell her who to marry just because you have a problem with people from wealthy backgrounds.”

Owen sighed and looked up to his mother, “…I know that.”

“Then give him a chance,” she argued with him and looked over to the chook pen as Asana held one of the chickens in her arms and encouraged Elias to pet it gently, “After all, he came all the way out here to meet us and has been honest with us the moment he got here. A man wouldn’t do that if he didn’t love her.”

“Until her heart gets broken,” Owen muttered.

“Owen,” Edith stared at him naggingly, “For your daughter’s sake, get to know the boy before you judge him. Your grandfather never approved of me marrying your father but after spending some time with him, liked him and gave us his blessing.”

“…I will be keeping an eye on him but I don’t see myself liking him anytime soon.”

Edith rolled her eyes at her stubborn son, a trait she was sure he had picked up from his father. Having said what she wanted to say to him, she carried a small bucket over to the entrance of the chook pen and watched as Asana placed the brown feathered chicken in Elias’ arms.

“How do I hold her?” Elias panicked because the hen was very light that he worried the tightest squeeze would break its fragile body, “Is it supposed to be this light?” he wondered as he felt the weight of a chicken for the first time.

“Just relax,” she giggled as she instructed him and shaped his arms accordingly, “Cup one arm under her belly and keep a light but secure hold on her leg otherwise she will scratch you. With your other hand, you can gently pet her or lightly hold her chest so that she can relax.”

Gently, Elias felt the chicken’s soft brown feathers underneath his fingertips while Asana watched his face light up with the new experience. She had deposited the eggs they had collected into a laying bed and had just over a dozen. She heard footsteps approaching and looked to the entrance where her grandmother handed her a bucket for the eggs. Followed by her father, who needed Asana’s help tending to the horses.

“How many eggs did you manage to collect?”

“I got fourteen but there are some hens still laying,” she said, hoping there were more later when they came to check, “Elias even helped me change the straw in the beds.”

“I take it this is your first time on a farm?” Owen asked quite harshly.

Elias gently set the chicken back down, “…Y-Yes, sir. Though, I’m enjoying this.”

He looked at him unkindly and immediately moved his attention from Elias to Asana, “Asana, could I borrow you to help with the horses,” he wasn’t asking and she gave Elias a small smile.

“I’ll talk to him,” she kissed his cheek, “Could you give Nan a hand to feed the chickens?”

He nodded and Asana raced after her father out to the stables. She raced after him as he slipped through an open side door to the barn and past the room where they kept all their feeding stock during the winter so it wouldn’t get wet. Edith showing Elias how to mix together the feed for the chickens.

“What’s wrong with Estelle?” she asked her father as he monitored her closely.

“I’m not sure yet,” he answered shortly and finding it hard to look his daughter in the eye, “According to your grandfather said she looked bigger than usual so he asked me to give her an exam.”

“You think she might be pregnant?” Asana wondered.

Owen nodded and the atmosphere was tense between them as Asana assisted in giving her mare a pregnancy exam. She knew how to do it and learnt many things about veterinary medicine from her father. Her father was never usually short with his words towards her and they had a close bond since she was little that it was almost hurtful that he was in a bad mood because she brought Elias home.

“Dad, can I try doing the exam myself since she’s my horse?” she wondered if he would let her conduct the exam under his guidance, “Please?” she gave him those pleading eyes he found difficult to say no to.

“…Alright,” he kept Estelle comfortable inside the horse crush, “Do you know what ultrasound we need to be conducting?”

“An internal examination through the rectum,” she answered.

“Good,” Owen nodded, “It’s warm enough in here to conduct the examination.”

They were in a room with sufficient lighting and Owen had kept an eye on the temperature because he couldn’t conduct the test under the sunlight and in the cold and wet snow. He took all precautions necessary to ensure they could perform the exam and handed Asana the probe once he was satisfied Estelle was calm.

Elias could see through a window what they were doing but he was confused, “What are they doing to the horse?” he asked Edith and she followed his line of sight.

“Looks like an early pregnancy test on Asana’s mare.”

Owen gave Asana the right instructions to conduct the exam and watched her confidently follow his orders. Looking down at the screen, a clear image appeared on the screen with Estelle remaining relaxed as they examined her. Studying the image, Asana could see the embryo of the foal, “She’s pregnant,” she announced and showed her father the images.

“Looks like it,” Owen didn’t seem to happy, “Alright, that’s enough. You did good.”

“Thanks Dad,” she appreciated his compliment but he walked away from her.

As they tidied up the crush and attended to Estelle, beginning to plan around her pregnancy, Asana decided to speak to her father about Elias, “Dad, why don’t you like Elias?”

He sighed, “…Should I like him?”

“…I wish you would give him a chance.”

“Why?” he looked up at her, “So that he can hurt you and break your heart.”

“He’s not like that type of person,” she argued, “Dad, please, I really love him.”

He sighed but his trouble wasn’t Elias but the insecurity of losing his daughter to that high society lifestyle and forgetting her roots, “...You’re young Asana. Don’t use terms like ‘love’ loosely.”

“I’m not,” she gritted her teeth, “You don’t even know him enough to judge him.”

“I don’t need to know him to know that he’s the same as all the other rich city boys,” Owen said quietly but frustratingly at her persistence to convince him that Elias was the man she’s going to marry, “You are both from different backgrounds and on the paths towards different careers. Like your mother said last night, he’s a mistake.”

Feeling hurt, she didn’t imagine he would be this difficult to persuade. Biting down on her quivering lip and fighting her tears, she stared down at him as he cleaned Estelle’s feet, “…We will compromise,” she trembled, “…But why can’t you see past his name and background to give him a chance and get to know him before you judge him. He’s a smart and wonderful man who came all the way out here just to meet everyone for me.”

He looked up to Asana and saw the tears in her eyes, “…I have a lot of work to do,” he lead Estelle back to her stable. Estelle’s hooves clacked against the hard floor covering the sounds of Asana’s ragged breathing as she shed a few tears, feeling hurt by her father’s stubbornness. Seeing her rubbing away tears, Elias put a sack he was carrying for Edith down on the ground, “Excuse me,” he said and Edith watched him hug her as she cried a few tears.

“What did he say to you?” Elias asked.

“That’s the thing, he said nothing,” she said, “Dad and I have always been close but he won’t even look at me or talk to me.”

Edith overheard her and walked across to the stables where Fred was waiting for the news from Owen about Estelle’s condition. “She’s pregnant,” Owen announced, “Asana conducted the examination by herself too,” he smiled proudly.

“Why couldn’t you show her that proud smile?” Edith scolded him in her motherly tone of voice.

Owen sighed, “I’m not having this conversation Mother.”

“Well I am,” she slapped him on the back of the head for making Asana cry, “I don’t know what you said or did to her but the poor girl is in tears. You’ve never spoke to her the way you just did so go apologise before you make things worse.”

Edith angrily walked away and shot a glance across to Fred to talk to Owen. He felt guilty for making his daughter cry and let out a sigh, “…She’s my only daughter and I don’t want to see her get hurt,” he muttered, “Is it so wrong a father to protect his daughter?”

Fred shrugged, “I think what your mother is trying to say, Owen, is not to judge him before you get to know him. I know you have a strong opinion of the rich and wealthy but it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance or risk damaging your relationship with your daughter.”

Despite her fight with her father, Asana continued to show Elias the rest of the farm. “Does your family sell all this in the markets?” he curiously asked as he watched some employees milk dairy cows in a separate barn to the chickens and horses. Lined up on a stand and facing the wall, machines extracted milk from utters.

“My family grow various fruits and vegetables and milk to the market. Wine, if you include my Uncle’s winery,” she explained, “We are one of the largest farms in the region and everything grown here is organic and the animals are well looked after. My Dad is also the region’s primary veterinarian too, so I suppose we are a vital component of the community which is why that business man is targeting them relentlessly.”

Holding hands, she lead him through the milking stations and explained how the machines work to extract milk to the cattle and how they raised them during the cold season when the paddocks of grass they graze is completely covered in a thick blanket of snow. After they finished, Asana drove them down to the greenhouses and let him eat a ripened strawberry to taste its sweet succulence, “That’s good,” he licked his lips.

After seeing Owen about the mare, Fred had returned to continue the irrigation processes of his greenhouses and watched as Asana showed Elias the plants and he took interest in their family operations. As Fred came closer, Elias asked a question, “So, the glass windows up there are cold resistant to protect them from the winter but help to filter photosynthesis to continue the growing process?”

“Correct,” Asana smiled at him, “Grandad invested a lot of money into these greenhouses but once winter is over and spring and summer return, he likes to go sow the fields the old-fashioned way.”

“Was his father a farmer too?” Elias asked.

“Many farming families around here follow after a long generation of farmers,” she answered happily but her smile was concealing the sadness of her fight with her father.

Elias felt guilty that his presence had created a rift between father and daughter, “…I’m sorry Asana,” he apologised after seeing her trying to mask her sadness.

“Why are you apologising to me?” she was confused and saw her grandfather spraying the plants in ear shot of their conversation, “This isn’t the part where you say my family’s too much and leave, is it?”

“Did it sound like that?” Elias didn’t intend on sounding like he was leaving, “I would never do that,” he assured her.

“Then, why are you apologising?”

He looked over at her grandfather who had his back turned as he tended to his crops and looked to Asana, “Because, my presence is causing arguments between you and your father. Whenever you spoke to your parents over the phone or told me stories about them, and being here, I can tell how close you all are. Makes me envious really.”

“Envious?”

“My relationship with my parents is…complicated…,” he compared their parents, “…Our fathers are very different. You’re close to yours and are following him because you idolise him. My father and I aren’t close but I’m entering law to get closer to him and fit into my name.”

“Are you apologising because you think you’re causing a rift between my father and me?”

“He loves you Asana,” Elias said.

“I know he does, but I still don’t get what you’re saying?” she was confused.

Elias had no intentions of leaving but traced the ring on her finger, “I’ve always said that I want to marry you under the blessings of both our parents. I don’t know how I am going to gain your father’s acceptance but I will try talking to him.”

“By…yourself?”

Elias would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous but he wasn’t about letting Asana go, “…He doesn’t like me because of my name and background but I want him to see beyond that so I will talk to him. Not today but after everything today has settled down.”

Turning around to spray water over the leaves of his crops, Fred watched Asana gently wrap her arms around him and gently kissed him, “Thank you, Elias,” she whispered, “You’re amazing to even be putting up with this.”

“If I didn’t stay I would be liar if I said I love you,” he wrapped his arms around her back and cuddled her back until his eyes met Fred’s as he watched their embrace, “…Sorry,” he apologised to Fred.

“Don’t mind me, just spraying my crops,” he didn’t want to interrupt them.

Asana pulled away from Elias and turned bright red as her grandfather cocked up a rare smirk. It was unusual for him to smile like that unless something truly moved him, “Um, did you want some help Grandad?”

He shook his head, “I’m fine but if you could turn on the trickle over there,” he pointed to a set of switches on a pole that controlled the irrigation supply, “Set it on two,” he asked and she did as he had instructed.

Asana continued to show Elias more of her family’s farm. Showing him some of her secret places in the woods and around the property using the quad bike, time was ticking away and the morning began to change to the early afternoon. Driving back to the house, Asana smiled at Elias happily, “Well, that’s my home,” she concluded her tour.

“Thank you for showing me,” he jumped out of the quad once she had parked the quad out of the snow and switched off the ignition, “Seriously, I really appreciate you showing me this side to you. I feel closer to you now than I did before.”

She happily jumped out of the driver seat of the quad and checked her phone for the time and at the same time Elias’ phone notified him that he received a text message. “Who’s that?” Asana asked as Elias’ lips curled into a victorious smile.

“My brother,” he replied and showed her the text message, “I had him check into this Bradley Aston and AgIndustries International but I have some very interesting news to tell your family.”

“What did he find?” she was desperately curious and tried to read over his shoulder.

Elias peeled his screen away from her eyes. “All will be revealed,” he teased.

“Come on,” she giggled, “Tell me,” she begged as they walked into the warm house.

Her father was inside the kitchen fixing himself a sandwich for lunch when he heard her laughter fill the room. “It’s a surprise,” Elias didn’t want to say as he saw an opportunity to genuinely help her family but also gain some level of acceptance from her father, “Put it this way, I’m going to make him sorry for ever disrespecting your family.”

She loved the fire in his eyes because it meant that whoever this guy thought he was, he was going to be taken down a notch by a man more powerful and intimidating than any threat made towards her uncle and grandfather, “I can’t wait to see what you’ll do, but are you sure you want to get involved?”

“Anyone who threatens and bullies my fiancée’s family have also threatened and bullied my fiancée,” Elias saw any attack on her family as an attack on her, “As your fiancée, I will not stand by and let someone dishonour you.”

Owen heard him make this promise and was conflicted. Entering the kitchen, Owen and Asana made eye contact with Asana stopping in the doorway. She turned to Elias, “…Maybe we should go into town. You should try my Mom’s bakery,” she began to push his body to leave but Elias stopped her.

They had not spoken since their earlier argument and could not stand to let a father and daughter be reunited after a long time only to fight. Elias gently pushed her back into the kitchen, “Talk to him,” he encouraged her as his eyes met Owen’s in the reflection of the window he was staring out of while he ate and looked over papers from a kitchen bench next to the sink.

Elias peeled away from sight and went into the living room where he attempted to make friends with her cat, Casper. An awkward silence came over the kitchen as Asana began making lunch for herself and Elias. Owen heeded the warnings his parents gave to him about damaging his relationship with her, and he didn’t want to lose her.

She had her back to him as she began to make two sandwiches. Was he blind to how quickly his daughter had transformed into a beautiful young woman? All he knew was he found it difficult to accept and harder to let her go. He felt the same way about his son, he usually spent years away from home travelling abroad on his many adventures but it hit home with Asana because she was his youngest child about to marrying into the second wealthiest family in the kingdom. He had strong opinions about the wealthy and the elite because of his several interactions with them throughout his career.

“…Estelle is quite healthy so I think she should be able to bring the foal to term without much complication,” he broke the ice by talking about the news of her horse being pregnant.

As he planned around Estelle’s pregnancy, a sudden thought hit him. If Asana was going to marry Elias it was highly likely they were going to have children of their own. He started to choke on his food at the thought of it and spat out his food.

Asana heard him choking and rushed to his side, “Are you okay, Dad?”

He nodded and signalled for a glass of water. Asana fetched him a glass. Desperately, he gulped down a large mouthful of water to push the food down his throat by lubricating and softening it. Once she was sure he was okay, she returned to making lunch.

“Asana,” Owen hated this tension between them but he created it by upsetting her, “…I want to apologise for how I spoke and behaved to you before,” he meant his apology and she turned around and leaned against the bench, finally they made eye contact.

“…Apology accepted,” she wanted to know why he did it though, “…Are you…disappointed in me, Dad?” her voice sounded sad.

His brown eyes widened and he hated that he made her think that way. Dropping his food and his papers, he wrapped her up in a hug to apologise, “Of course I don’t!” he couldn’t even bring himself to feel disappointed in his son or daughter, “I’m incredibly proud of you and your brother, what on earth possessed you to think that?”

“…Well,” she knew he never liked her studying in the city and bringing Elias home made it feel like she was mad at him, “You’ve never liked the idea of me going to school in the city and now that I’m engaged to Elias…it’s like you’ve been avoiding me since I came home. You barely spoke to me last night and you were short with me in the stables, even harsh with your words when you were guiding me through the ultrasound. I know you’re mad at me but…I don’t want us to fight.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not mad at you,” he assured her that was not the case and tightened his arms around her, “…I could never be mad at my little girl, not even if she’s a smart, bright and beautiful woman now. I hate this tension between us too.”

“…So, why?”

He sighed and thought being honest with her was the only way to resolve this, “I have an amazing son I barely see or hear from because he’s travelling the remotest places on earth but I’m glad he’s making something of himself. Then, I have my beautiful daughter who lives eight hours away in a dangerous city taking the first steps in following her dreams. As a father...I’m insecure that once my children spread their wings they’re never going to come back to visit their old man.”

“You’re scared you’re going to lose us?” she summarised and felt her heart melt as her father nodded his head to answer her question, “Dad!” throwing her arms around him, she couldn’t imagine her stubborn father being insecure and struggling to let them go, “I’m always going to be your little girl and I’m never going to forget my roots. Even when Elias and I marry, we’ll come home to visit. I couldn’t imagine never seeing you or Mom again.”

“I’m more worried that Elias’ world will change you,” he was scared he was sounding selfish, “I know you’re going to change but I don’t want you to. You’re my little Asana and all I want for you is to be happy and healthy but I don’t want to lose my little country bumpkin.”

“You won’t lose me, Dad,” she promised and smiled when she heard Elias trying to coax Casper to let him pet him, “…Elias won’t let that happen and he’s not your typical snobby rich boy. Please, Dad, I really, really love him and I want you to give him a chance. Talk to him alone, get to know him better. When I was showing him around the farm, he was helping out and enjoyed the experience of working on a farm. He’s even got information on that business man threatening and harassing Grandad and Uncle Lucas.”

Interested in what information he had, Owen turned towards the living room when he heard Elias verbally grimace with pain, he guessed Casper scratched him, “What type of information?” he seemed interested in whatever information Elias knew and considered, for his daughter, giving him a chance and try to know him better.

A relaxed atmosphere returned to their relationship as she answered his question, happily, “He won’t tell me but all he said was that he’s going to make that man sorry for harassing our family,” she wore a proud smile, “Elias is a sweet and intelligent man but mess with him or anyone he cares about…well, you’ll see,” she could tell Elias had something planned.

Emerging from the kitchen, Elias cradled his finger in his hand nursing a bleeding cat scratch he sustained trying to make friends with Asana’s cat while he waited for them to talk things over, “Sorry to interrupt but do you have plasters?” he showed her the wound, it was a nip of the claw but red blood poured out of his finger, “Your cat does not make friends easily,” his comment made her laugh as she fished the first aid kit from a draw in the kitchen.

Wearing a softer expression, Owen watched Asana as she applied antiseptic cream to his wound so it didn’t get infected and then covered it with a cream coloured plaster to stop the bleeding.

“Is Grandad coming to the festival?” Asana asked her father.

“We’re going to the dinner but why don’t you take Elias into town and have fun,” he finally smiled at Asana and extended the gesture to Elias too but was not ready to shake his hand. Owen was old-fashioned and believed a handshake represented respect and acceptance between two men. He hadn’t accepted Elias yet but promised to get to know him better before they left for the city.

“Shall we go get ready?” Asana asked Elias.

“Sure,” Elias nodded but then his stomach growled.

Asana laughed and remembered she was in the middle of making sandwiches for lunch, “After we eat then we can go get ready,” she spun around happily on her heels and Elias helped her finish their preparing their lunch.

Owen continued his work as he listened to their conversation and heard their laughter from where he stood in the kitchen. Maybe, he could make an exception with Elias but first he wanted to speak with him alone but not today as there had been enough drama on the Thanksgiving festival day.

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Our last winter, 21/31

► Our last winter - Human!Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler. ► Written for @doctorroseprompts 31 days of ficmas. Day 22: Santa Claus and/or elves. ► AU Verse, Teen. ► 1,628 words. ► A/N: This is a prequelle to Ghost of you.

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is time for home.” - Edith Sitwell.

Finally that long day of work was over. Maxence had managed to do as many things as possible in the afternoon to catch up with his procrastination of the morning. His mother would be so angry at him for acting this way. He was such an awful son. He should be honouring her memory instead of feeling so sorry for himself. She would want him to cherish her memory and to keep living like he had always done. Life is a present, Maxence. You can’t waste it. You only have one. Words of wisdom she had told him once and he had never forgotten about them until her death. Today, the bells had reminded him of happier days, of what he still had. He needed to keep fighting even if her loss was the most terrible thing that had happened to him in over thirty years of life.

So tonight, he was gonna gather his friends for a dinner at home. They would order something since he was an awful cook and he didn’t want Rose to be stuck in the kitchen after her day of work. Jack and Tegan would come over. So would Liv and Clara. Allegro and Zachary had accepted too. They would be nine tonight to celebrate life. None was a lot to cook for and that’s why he refused Rose to even do it. Even if they were just sharing pizzas or Chinese, they would all spend a good evening and that was the most important. Or he would find something at the mall. Rose wasn’t done yet with her work. He would come and fetch her later. She liked his idea of a dinner with friends. It wasn’t something they were doing much sadly.

Maxence drove to the mall. He was never going there alone because he hated dealing with people and groceries and malfunctioning automatic checkouts. Not finding what he was looking for also was a big bother for him. He was making an effort though. He had to think of it as an adventure. When he was little, he wanted to be an adventurer running from one side of Earth to the other but sciences won his heart quickly and he knew that was the real adventure of his life. He was already making experiments in the backyard and getting grounded for the mess he had created. He had had a chemistry kit once at Christmas. That’s how his mother had found out that he was much more intelligent than the average.

The mall was full as expected. People were making their last week shopping for Christmas and New Year Eve. It would be worse on the 23 or even on the 24. People could do their shopping so late sometimes. He was part of them he had to admit. There was always something missing after all. A small thing that was forcing you into waiting hours at the checkout. You almost wanted to do without that little thing. He sighed. He was just coming for a couple of beers and some wine for their guests. He hoped people hadn’t bought everything in sight and that there was something left. He wasn’t up for another stop in another shop. One was enough. He walked past Santa Claus’ hut. The man paid for the job wasn’t there yet but there were kids waiting for him and parents glancing at their watch.

  “Psst,” said someone. “Sir?”

  Maxence turned around to the person calling him out. Two teenagers dressed as elves were hiding behind the hut and making signs for him to come over. He shrugged and decided to go and see what they wanted. He was curious, that was the main reason that was throwing him into troubles.

  “Yeah?”

“Do you have children?”

“Not yet.”

“But you like them?”

“What’s the point of this talk?”

“Our master, our dear Santa is sick and can’t do his job.”

“And all those kids are waiting for him.”

“They will be so sad if Santa doesn’t come.”

“You… you want me to be Santa?”

“You’d save Christmas.”

  He couldn’t let those kids down. He had played Father Christmas for the lab, he could do it for a couple kids in the mall. He accepted the mission he was given. He was even doing it for free. It was just a service, like all those fake superheroes in the hospitals. He quickly pulled on the costume and made his way to the throne surrounded by the elves. The kids cheered when they finally saw their heroes and the line started moving. The first kid climbed on his lap happily and the mother took a picture of them both while her son was giving Maxence the whole list of gifts he wanted for Christmas.

He did so until the line was coming to an end, until a very special woman to him came and sat down on his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and took a selfie of them both. For people around them, it was weird to see someone doing this but he didn’t find it strange at all. He was even smirking in his fake beard.

  “What do you want for Christmas, young lady?”

“Let me think about it, daddy.”

  She put a finger to her chin and pretended to be thinking about a possible answer to his question. She had none to give because he already had her Christmas list and they already had made their Christmas shopping. Still she thought of something she whispered in his ear.

  “I think I can do that.”

  He chuckled and the two elves looked at each other, confused. They came to them to have a final word on the matter and understand the situation better. Plus, there were one last kid waiting before they closed the hut for the day. After that, Maxence would be free from the high responsibility they had charged him with.

  “I’m Mother Christmas,” she joked.

  The teenagers didn’t get it and the couple chuckled. Sometimes people were getting confused about their behaviour when they were together and they were adding more by the words they were saying.

  “You’ve hired my husband for this job,” she explained. “And I’m getting him back as soon as it’s over.”

“My little elves are coming home tonight for dinner.”

“Which is why you were supposed to buy a couple things:”

  He hadn’t done it and when she hadn’t seen him at home, she had guessed that he was still here. Knowing his aversion for malls and shopping, she had been surprised but when she had heard his voice speaking to those kids, she had understood better. That’s why she had gotten in line to have her picture with him. She would add it on the wall of their room in the lab. Or on her desk. She would see later. For now, she left his lap and let that last kid have her picture with him. She got her Maxence back soon after.

  “Now that you’re done with playing Santa Claus, you need to hurry up and find stuff to drink and eat for our friends you’ve invited.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And with Christmas coming, the alleys will be as empty as a Black Friday shop in America.”

“Sorry. They were desperate because Santa was sick and those kids were waiting and they asked me.”

“And you couldn’t refuse:”

“That would have been too sad for the kids.”

“So you’re a saviour?”

“Sort of. Have you read my last interview?”

“I don’t need to, I was there.”

“Oh, yeah, right. You were interviewed too. Just after me.”

“And you were too nervous to go alone.”

“Not true!”

“So fucking true!”

  He shook his head. He hadn’t been nervous. Or maybe just a little. However, he wasn’t gonna admit it to Rose. She would think that he wasn’t impressive anymore. It had taken so much time for her to believe that he really was impressive. Sometimes he was thinking that she was lying to him just to satisfy his ego. It was something Rose would totally do to avoid an argument or a sulking session, although he never pouted. Not him.

They got in the mall and got straight to the alcohol alley. Maxence grabbed two packs of beer and Rose added wine and rum. They got to the snacks session and she picked a couple crisps packages for the pre-dinner drinks. They got to the checkout to pay it all and quickly got back to their car. Rose had taken the bus to come back home because he wasn’t there. She thought he had forgotten her – wouldn’t be the first time – and he really had in the end.

  “You took the bus to come and get me?”

“I haven’t had much of a choice because you’ve forgotten me.”

“I haven’t. I was called for help and I couldn’t refuse.”

“And you forgot that you were supposed to come back to get me.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You totally did!”

“You’re getting back home walking!”

  He closed the trunk and got into the car. He voluntarily locked the doors so she couldn’t get in the car. She would see what it was to really be forgotten.

  “Max! You can’t do that!”

“Sure I can!”

  He switched on the car and pulled off the handbrake. She knocked on the window and threatened him to deprive him from gifts at Christmas if he wasn’t letting her on. People were looking at them strangely and someone even came up to them thinking it was a real fight between them. Rose got what she wanted, she got in the car because he didn’t want people to think he was beating her or something. That was something he would definitely never do….

Our last winter © | 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

Buy me a coffee?

[hermanwatts]

Richard Matheson’s Hell House

This is a guest post by Rich. Take it away:

  It has now been more than forty years since small press stalwart David Madison shot himself dead in an Arlington railway yard. He was twenty six years old. I do not presume to understand why he did this. And I am not about to engage here in some De Campian style cod Freudian post-mortem analysis to try and explain it. He did what he did for reasons that seemed valid to him and we have no choice but to respect them.

Madison had a surplus of gifts as a fantasy writer, and we are all the poorer for being deprived of the work he might have produced. Such only makes it all the more of a shame that more effort has not been made into collecting together the work he did complete. Anyone who loves an imaginative and witty sword and sorcery yarn really owes it to themselves to track down Madison’s small press appearances. There really is nothing quite like his idiosyncratic Marcus & Diana stories.

But for all Madison’s unquestioned talent as a fictioneer he was sometimes guilty of betraying his own emotional immaturity as a critic. Take the review of Richard Matheson’s HELL HOUSE which he published in July 1975 in an obscure and short lived fanzine called Kaballah, The Worlds of Fantasy.

                Madison displayed no interest in appearing impartial, setting out in stark terms his intent to “flay” the book and “roll it in salt”. He then went on to call it the worst novel he has ever read before even beginning to address the novel’s supposed faults and failings. In a kangaroo court of this sort neither Matheson nor his work was ever likely to receive a fair hearing. Having stated his intention Madison proceeded to take issue with the book’s “concoction of trite dialogue, half-baked pseudo-science [and] illogical plotting”. He didn’t actually bother to back up these accusations with many examples of what he found so objectionable, trusting to his own Ellisonian sense of apoplexy and outrage to convince the reader.

But what appears to have really irked and irritated Madison most was the book’s treatment of its sexual themes. Madison berates the “sadistic sex scenes” and accused Matheson himself of being “a prude who treats lesbianism as an evil”. The hysterical tone of Madison’s umbrage on this point probably says far more about his own sexual hang ups than telling us anything useful about Matheson’s.

But if all this suggests that I am about to launch into a defence of the book and a rabid denunciation of my own of Madison’s arguments then the fact of the matter is that I’m not. Because if one takes the time to drain the emotional vitriol out of Madison’s criticisms then the stark truth is that he wasn’t altogether wrong about any of it.

For a book that continues to bask in its own classic status it can be disconcerting to discover just how sloppily written HELL HOUSE is. There are several instances of changes of scene which aren’t properly delineated, and at least one instance of a sequence segueing into a flashback without any kind of differentiation.  Nor are these cute literary gimmicks either. But to what extent they are examples of poor copy-editing or Matheson’s own carelessness is open to question.

Boxes of scientific equipment miraculously appear without explanation also.

  As Madison identified the book’s dialogue is flat and banal, which is surprising considering Matheson’s stature as a screenwriter. The plot is thin and largely uneventful for the first two thirds of the book. I personally lost count of the number of glasses of water that were run, the cups of coffee that were drunk and the amount of time characters spent settling down to sleep instead of doing anything more proactive. The shocks and scares are also quite humdrum [none more so than a levitated bed sheet saying “Boo!”]; at least until the possession of Florence Tanner late in the book belatedly injects a genuine frisson into them.

But although such criticisms are largely a question of individual taste Madison certainly was right to highlight the book’s strange sexual predilections. The problem isn’t that Matheson wrote a misogynistic book – which he had every bit as much right to do as the viragos penning rabidly misandristic fables do today – but that in doing so he contradicted his own central premise of Hell House being a hub of indiscriminate all inclusive torment and abuse. Because while the male characters of the book are subjected to physical violence none of it is sexually directed. But the female characters are on the receiving end of almost nothing but. The book takes an almost lascivious relish in having the prim and pious Florence Tanner expose her breasts not once or even twice but on no less than nine separate and distinct occasions. And Dr Barrett’s sexually conflicted wife Edith gets four opportunities to strip as well. In describing these scenes Matheson seems almost to adopt the voyeuristic persona of Emeric Belasco himself.

Now I daresay few people would have complained about seeing the lovely Gayle Hunnicutt and the beautiful Pamela Franklin disrobing to this extent in the film version, which Matheson himself scripted. But the film’s use of nudity is wholly innocuous and coy in comparison to the novel. A fact which forces one to query why Matheson believed explicitness so necessary in one medium and not in the other. Whatever the answer, the book’s abuse of its female characters cannot fail to cast in a strange light Matheson’s decision to dedicate the book to his daughters.

Madison and I part company at the juncture where he exhorts people to read HELL HOUSE for no other reason than to find confirmation of their own about how wretched the book is. Matheson was simply too accomplished a writer to produce something so shorn of all merit.

There is an interesting set of dynamics and tensions at work between the four principal characters which both compliment and counter-balance each other and in so doing cleverly mirror the book’s central conceit of the role of opposing physical polarities accounting for all psychical phenomena. And for a book which appears ostensibly to ridicule and refute orthodox religious doctrines there is a certain fitting symbolism in having four characters acting as evangelists for differing perspectives which, when fitted together, reveal a fundamental ‘truth’.

And it was unnecessarily churlish of Madison to deny the excellent head of steam which the book builds up towards the end when Matheson finally slips the shackles he’s been working with and unleashes a torrent of genuine horror.

But despite having these points in its favour HELL HOUSE is, in the end, a book which belies its reputation; much as the Belasco mansion itself does ultimately. For it is simply too preposterous to be taken seriously and has too little of the Grand Guignol about it to qualify as schlock.

  The curious are better advised to watch the film instead which effectively boils the story down to less exploitative stock. And there one has the added pleasures of being able to see the late great Roddy McDowall at work in his prime and to gaze in awe at the ravishing Pamela Franklin.

Richard Matheson’s Hell House published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[readersmagnet]

From major milestones to significant challenges in Edith Vosefski's life, The Nine Lives of Curious Edith takes you on a journey through her life and works. The entire narrative exudes the author's personality, infused with her innate insight, wit, and curiosity. Her book shows that there's always time to learn something new, improve one's skills, go over old ground, and even reinvent oneself.

Visit www.edithvosefski.com to learn more about Edith King Vosefski and her works.

[petepettingillposts]

An Unexpected Turn

Riding my bicycle through Durham I made an unexpected turn on to a road I had not taken before, and I came across the Hamilton Smith Memorial Chapel. This memorial chapel was erected by Hamilton Smith’s widow to memorialize him and his great accomplishments. The chapel and its grounds, however, also memorialize three generations of women with stories of their own.

I am not a Durham, New Hampshire aficionado, although I generally know my way around. I had never seen this chapel or at least I do not think I have. I had some vague recollection of Hamilton Smith as a wealthy benefactor of the university.

I soaked in this tranquil setting on a sultry summer New Hampshire afternoon, snapped some pictures with my phone, and posted them to Facebook before resuming my ride. I intentionally captured the engravings from the gravestones so I could do a little research on the interred.  

By the time I got home many people had commented on the post, one leaving a link about the chapel. I read the data behind that, and did some quick research on Hamilton Smith (1840-1900). While all of the writings about “Ham” Smith, his illustrious career as a mining engineer and financier, his great fortune, his probable exploitation of African people and resources are all very interesting, I became more curious about the other folks buried in the little cemetery.

A visitor may wrongly conclude this was a simple little nineteenth and twentieth century family: a husband, a wife, a daughter, and a grand-daughter and her husband. It is far from that neat and clean.

Hamilton Smith’s wife, “Alice Hamilton Smith,” as the stone reads, was born in to the antebellum American aristocracy as Alice Robinson Jennings in New Orleans, Louisiana on April 8, 1850 to Needler Jennings and Anna Maria Hennen. 

Needler Jennings was a native of Norfolk, Virginia, but lived most of his life in New Orleans. According to a biographical summary, Needler “practiced law until 1841, when he was appointed Clerk of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern District of Louisiana. He remained in office after secession, serving until the Union army occupied the city in 1862.” He did serve in the Confederate Army despite “his well-known Union sympathies.” He died November 20, 1863, in Osyka, Mississippi. 

Alice was cultivated as many young women of her station. She married first Charles Congreve on June 3, 1873 in New Rochelle, New York. Charles was born in England about 1829 probably in Sheffield since the record shows family connection there.  Some of the documents on the chapel website and in the university system indicate Alice was born a Congreve when in fact she married in to the family.  

Alice and Charles had a daughter, Edith, who is also buried in this cemetery, and who we will talk about later. According to an obituary on Tuesday, February 26, 1878 Charles Congreve “dropped dead at the Delaware, Lackawana, and Western Railroad Station in Newark, N.J…..the immediate cause of his death was over-exertion.” He was 48 years-old and in the course of his business travels; his widow was 28 and his daughter was three. His obituary indicates he was very active in several types of business including the trading of Texas cattle with England brokers.

Alice subsequently married Hamilton “Ham” Smith in 1886 in Kensington, England. She was 36 and he was 46, Edith was 11. The family would have many happy years together and Ham raised Edith as his own daughter. There was much travel around the world as Hamilton became more prominent and wealthier in the mining industry.

Hamilton Smith died on July 4, 1900, one day short of his 60th birthday. The suggestion is that he died “in a boating incident on the Oyster River.” His death certificate indicates he died of “heart failure.” Better than dropping dead trying to switch trains in Newark, New Jersey, I suppose.

Upon his death Alice erected the chapel in his memory. Regrettably she died only six short years later at 56 years-old.

Before she died, however, this daughter of the antebellum aristocracy attended the 1901 Durham, New Hampshire wedding of her daughter Edith to Sherby Onderdonk, and subsequently the 1902 birth of her granddaughter and namesake, Alice. Onderdonk’s first name frequently appears as Sherly or Sherley but the Onderdonk Genealogy uses Sherby.

Sherby Onderdonk was a formidable businessman having many ventures including farming in Costa Rica. He was born in 1873, the son of Andrew Onderdonk and Sarah D. Hilman. Andrew Onderdonk was a civil engineer and contractor who built the sea wall at San Francisco, a large portion of the Canadian Pacific Railroad, and part of the New York City subway system, just to name a few of his accomplishments. Sarah Hilman was the daughter of Sherlock Hilman and a graduate of the Moravian Seminary for Young Ladies at Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

Not surprising Edith would have been introduced to such a prominent character and his family. Onderdonk died in Manhattan, November 15, 1918 at 45 years-old leaving his wife and a 16 year-old daughter, Alice Onderdonk. Sherby is not buried in Durham, and it is not clear at this moment where he is buried. Regrettably Edith died only three and half months later on February 26, 1919 in Brookline, Massachusetts. There is nothing available at this moment to indicate why the Onderdonks died so prematurely.

 Edith and Alice traveled together before Edith’s death. Ship manifests show them arriving in Honolulu on July 1, 1912 from Yokohama, Japan, and in San Francisco on July 31, 1912. The latter record indicates they had been to Hong Kong and Japan. Additionally, another record shows them arriving in New York from France on September 15, 1913. Alice was only nine and ten years old during these trips. We can only imagine the wonder and privilege as if we were watching a movie.

And so, the third generation of the females buried at the memorial chapel is Alice Onderdonk, born in Durham on November 4, 1902. It is not clear where Alice lived after her mother died in 1919.

Alice married first Henry Dean Quimby on June 19, 1924. Quimby was a business man from Rochester, New York. She would subsequently move to Rochester, New York and have two children, Henry and Congreve.

What became of that marriage and her children is immediately unclear. I’ll keep looking. But Alice married second Lloyd Britton Van Da Linda (1892 – 1975).  

Lloyd was born in New York City, had been married and raised a family primarily in Cincinnati, Ohio. A ship manifest shows him, his wife, Emma, and their two daughters, Betty and Mary, 10 and 8, respectively, arriving in New York from Cherbourg, France on September 1, 1933. A 1948 Virginia divorce record indicates he abandoned his wife in 1944, and Emma prevailed in a non-contested divorce after thirty years of marriage. Lloyd had a varied career and moved around a lot. He was no Hamilton, Congreve, or Onderdonk.

It is unclear how Alice and Lloyd met or when exactly they married but they appear on the October 17, 1951 manifest of the popular passenger ship Mauretania booked for a six-month cruise. There home address is listed ass 23 Main Street, Durham, New Hampshire.

Alice died on May 17, 1978 in Santa Barbara, California, and is interred with her second husband, her mother and grandmother, and Hamilton Smith in the small graveyard adjacent to the Hamilton Smith Memorial Chapel in what seems an unexpected turn.

[cathygeha]

Eight historical romances featuring roguish dukes willing to risk it all to get the lady their heart desires.

Out Dec 12th– The Desires of a Duke: Historical Romance Collection

Follow the blast and enter to #win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

Enter at: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b050ef29456/?

REVIEW

The Desires of a Duke

 What a delightful collection of historical romances!

 THE FORBIDDEN DUKE by Darcy Burke Titus St. James is an upright man who keeps to himself. Once a year he dances with a woman at his mother’s ball and that woman is soon the toast of the town. When Eleanor finds herself without means or a roof over her head she applies to be a companion and lucks into a job that sees her with a second chance for a season in society and perhaps the opportunity to marry and have a family. Little does she know that the man she will end up with is the stepson of the woman she is working for. I really liked Eleanor and Titus and enjoyed their story immensely!   THE DUKE WHO KNEW TOO MUCH by Grace Callaway Alaric McLeod leaves home when nine years of age. He acts tough but doesn’t feel he is. The home he ends up in is one no child should end up in and the couple he lives with horrible…in fact…the woman reminds me of newspaper articles dealing with Munchausen by Proxy. He is a widow, hedonist and at one point suspected of murder. Emma sees Alaric in a situation that she misinterprets and then, to make amends, wants to help him clear his name. She has dreams of being an investigator like her brother and Alaric’s stepbrother and gets herself into some rather questionable situations while…investigating. This was a fun if somewhat unbelievable story. THE DUKE’S MATCH GIRL by Lila DiPasqua Not really based on the sad story we have all heard as children this book tells of Leo, Duke of Mont-Marly and Suzanne Matchet. Leo was a bit of a cad and a liar when he made sure he had a night with Suzanne before marrying another woman. When he finds himself widowed he heads to the town Suzanne lives in to woo her. This story was so-so in my opinion and a bit silly…definitely not believable. WAITING FOR A DUKE LIKE YOU by Shana Galen Princess Vivienne of Glynaven, sole royal survivor of an uprising, manages to escape from assassins and make to England. When the Duke of Wyndover sees her she is filthy, sleeping and he believes she is a vagrant. When he realizes who she is he promises to keep her safe. Why? Because he fell for her long ago when in her country even though she never indicated he existed. Vivienne is a strong character and able to protect herself. Nathan is a delight and great book boyfriend. I liked this book a great deal and would gladly read more books by this author. WHEN I MET MY DUCHESS by Caroline Linden What fun this book was! Gareth has chosen the perfect woman to be his duchess EXCEPT when Helen Grey arrives he is drawn to her sister Cleo instead. Over time he realizes that he is making a mistake and hopes to find a solution that will see him with the right sister and Helen happy, too. All works out well in the end but it is an interesting fun story to read and left me happy at the end and wanting to find another book by this author! That said…I detested the parents of Helen and Cleo and wanted to thump them more often than not! I SPY A DUKE by Erica Monroe I read this book in the past and loved it rating it five stars at the time. Quoted from my review: What a GREAT introduction to the new “Covert Heiresses” series!... Both Vivian and James have lost siblings and begin to bond after discussing their losses one evening. There is an ease and companionship between them but also chemistry waiting to be explored. Vivian needs protection and James has offered his to her. Little does she know that there is more under his expensive clothes and pleasant demeanor than a the wealthy Duke he appears to be. I loved Vivian’s strength of will, clarity of mind and determination. I loved James for his ability to realize his strengths and weaknesses as well as sensitive and tender side. Both characters were well written and the growth of their relationship was a joy to read about as it unfolded. THE MISFORTUNE OF LADY LUCIANNA by Christina McKnight Lady Lucianna and her friends are doing their best to bring the murderer of their friend Tildy to justice. In the meantime Luciana, Ophelia and Edith write a column for the London Gazette that exposes rakes, rogues and roués. The women believe they are in the right and always right but…as we find out in this story…that may not always be true. When The Duke of Montrose finds out who has destroyed his chances to marry a wealthy woman he sets out to get revenge – on Lucianna. This is was a fun book. It was nice to catch up with Edith. I wanted to smack Lucianna’s father a time or two and was thrilled he was thwarted by Lucianna and Roderick. I am curious to find out who Ophelia will end up with, whether or not Roderick will find out who stole the money from his father and whether or not Abercorn will be found guilty and Tildy will eventually get justice. THE DUKE’S ACCIDENTAL WIFE by Erica Ridley

    Preconceptions can be misconceptions –    and that is just what Katherine Ross “Kate” and Lawrence Pembroke, the Duke    of Ravenwood found to be true before the end of the book.         Kate was footloose and fancy    free living with her great Aunt Havens when at one of her social events she    and Ravenwood were caught in an apparently compromising situation. They    both had ideas of what their future would be and that future did not    include what they were suddenly faced with. As the two of them get to know    one another better they find that what they believed true of one another is    not quite accurate and worth reconsidering.         I loved the way Kate began to    see beyond the exterior Ravenwood presented to the world. I enjoyed    Ravenwood’s slow opening up and sharing as time went on. This is a story of    family, caring, sharing and giving and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

 ABOUT THE BOOK

Title: The Desires of a Duke

Authors: Darcy Burke, Grace Callaway, Lila DiPasqua, Shana Galen, Caroline Linden, Erica Monroe, Christina McKnight, Erica Ridley

Genre: Historical Romance

Release Date: December 12, 2017

 Available for a LIMITED TIME ONLY!

BOOK BLURBS:

Enjoy eight historical romances from bestselling authors, featuring dashing, roguish dukes who are willing to risk it all to get the lady their heart desires. When these powerful, bold men take a chance on love, nothing can stop them. THE FORBIDDEN DUKE by Darcy Burke The Forbidden Duke helps ruined Eleanor find a second chance for happiness. What will she say when she learns of the role he played in her downfall? THE DUKE WHO KNEW TOO MUCH by Grace Callaway A spinster and rake join forces to catch a murderer. Wills clash and passion flares; will they risk all for love—before it’s too late?  THE DUKE’S MATCH GIRL by Lila DiPasqua The only woman Leo, Duke of Mont-Marly, has ever yearned for is the adorably unconventional beauty who got away. Suzanne creates and selling matchsticks, elixirs for the ill…and is still so damned alluring. Leo is determined to give her a Christmas beyond her wildest imagination... WAITING FOR A DUKE LIKE YOU by Shana Galen Pursued by assassins, Princess Vivienne of Glynaven escapes to England. The Duke of Wyndover aids her, but is he the man she’s been waiting for? WHEN I MET MY DUCHESS by Caroline Linden The Duke of Wessex realizes he’s about to marry the wrong woman when he meets his bride’s sister…and the wedding may become a scandal. I SPY A DUKE by Erica Monroe A governess entering into a marriage of convenience with a duke gets more than she bargained for, as he's also a spy for the crown. THE MISFORTUNE OF LADY LUCIANNA by Christina McKnight The Duke of Montrose has only one choice: find a wealthy heiress to wed. When his quest brings him to Lady Lucianna, he can’t deny that he wants her for more than just her dowry. THE DUKE’S ACCIDENTAL WIFE by Erica Ridley The unflappable Duke of Ravenwood meets his match in this rollicking New York Times best-seller!

 Available at: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

 Author Bio:

Christina McKnight is a book lover turned writer. From a young age, her mother encouraged her to tell her own stories. She’s been writing ever since.

 Christina enjoys a quiet life in Northern California with her family, her wine, and lots of coffee. Oh, and her books…don’t forget her books! Most days she can be found writing, reading, or traveling the great state of California.

 You can visit her online at the following places: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

 Follow the blast and enter to #win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

Dec 11th Mythical Books – Spotlight Oh My Growing TBR – Spotlight RoloPoloBookBlog – Spotlight Romance Book Review For You – Review Up 'Til Dawn Book Blog – Spotlight Cathy's World – Review I Love Romance – Review It's All About the Romance – Spotlight Jen's Reading Obsession - Spotlight            

Dec 12th Njkinny’s World of Books & Stuff (NWoBS) – Review Carries Book Reviews – Spotlight Ebook Indulgence – Spotlight Lisa Loves Books – Spotlight Naughty Mom Story Time – Spotlight Once Upon a Book Blog – Spotlight The Power of Three Readers – Spotlight Those Crazy Book Chicks - Spotlight

Dec 13th Romance Reviews Today Blog – Spotlight A Chick Who Reads – Spotlight Cat's Guilty Pleasure – Spotlight Evermore Books – Spotlight Lisa's World of Books – Spotlight Reese's Review – Spotlight The Silver Dagger Scriptorium – Spotlight Victoria's Thoughts and Reviews – Spotlight Buried Under Romance - Spotlight

Dec 14th Caitlyn Lynch – Review Books,Dreams,Life – Spotlight LadyTechie's Book Musings – Spotlight Married Book Nerds – Spotlight nikkis book nook – Spotlight TBR Book Blog – Spotlight The Voluptuous Book Diva – Spotlight We All Make Mistakes in Books – Spotlight Joyfully Reviewed - Spotlight

Dec 15th Silvatrend8553's Book Blog – Review Sizzling Pages Romance Reviews - Spotlight donnasbookblog – Spotlight Lisa Book Blog @ LEL – Spotlight More Books Than Livros – Spotlight OMGreads – Spotlight Teatime and Books – Spotlight The World As I See It – Spotlight Yearwood La Novela - Spotlight

 http://www.barclaypublicity.com/

[ba1bkbm]

Alice Adaptations and Notes

Alice in Wonderland has been a long and running hit with Walt Disney since the get go. From his first company, Laugh-O-Grams, in which he and Ub Iwerks made a series of cartoons featuring a live action girl called Alice in a cartoonland, to the 1951 animated feature length movie, to the recently released and critically acclaimed Alice in Wonderland (2010) and Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016), directed by renowned animator and moviemaker Tim Burton. In this essay I would like to discuss the various narratives, animation styles (or lack thereof in the live-action versions), and the classic piece of literature that they stemmed from.

Alice in Wonderland (1865), Through the Looking Glass, What Alice Found, Lewis Carroll

The story of Alice began when Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) was rowing a boat that began at Folly Bridge in Oxford and ended in the village of Godstow, with companions Reverend Robinson Duckworth and the three daughters of Henry Liddell (Vice-Chancellor of Oxford University and Dean of Christ Church): Lorina Charlotte Liddell (“Prima” in the book’s prefatory verse); Alice Pleasance Liddell (“Sencunda”); Edith Mary Liddell (“Tertia”).

 It has been suggested that some of the characters are actually based around real people – Alice being Alice Pleasance Liddell and the Mad Hatter being Lewis Carroll himself. In many adaptations of this story, there is emphasis on the bond between these two characters.

 “For 150 years the curious creatures from Carroll’s topsy-turvy world have been part of popular culture the world over, not just in books, plays and films, toys, games and millions of products from food to clothing but also in – cartoons!

 This is hardly surprising since when Lewis Carroll (real name Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) was seeking an illustrator for Alice he chose John Tenniel, the leading cartoonist of his day, whose caricatures of Victorian politicians and celebrities appeared every week in the pages the humorous magazine, Punch.

 The stories were an instant success as were the illustrations and within a very short time people were using the characters and their quotable lines to make satirical comment on current affairs. Even John Tenniel created a topical cartoon for Punch based on his own illustration of Alice’s encounter with the Gryphon and the Mock Turtle.” http://www.cartoonmuseum.org/exhibitions/past-exhibitions/50128-alice-in-cartoonland

 The narrative finishes with her in a dream – refer to Paul Well’s book of “Understanding Animation” and what this entails.

Alice in Cartoonland, (1920s), Dir. Walt Disney

“In 1922 Disney and his friend Ub Iwerks, a gifted animator, founded the Laugh-O-gram Films studio in Kansas City and began producing a series of cartoons based on fables and fairy tales. 

In 1923 Disney produced the short subject Alice in Cartoonland, a film combining both live action and animation that was intended to be the pilot film in a series. Within weeks of its completion, Disney filed for bankruptcy and left Kansas City to establish himself in Hollywood as a cinematographer. Alice in Cartoonland turned out to be a surprise hit, and orders from distributors for more Alice films compelled Disney to reopen shop in Hollywood with the help of his brother Roy—a lifelong business partner. The Kansas City team soon joined the Disneys in California, and the company produced mostly Alice films for the next four years.” https://www.britannica.com/topic/Disney-Company#ref738564

“Alice in Cartoonland celebrates Alice’s many misadventures at the hands of cartoonists, caricaturists and satirists, animators and graphic artists through 150 years of parodies and pastiches, jibes, jokes and gags aimed at making political points, social comment or just intended to make us laugh.” http://www.cartoonmuseum.org/exhibitions/past-exhibitions/50128-alice-in-cartoonland

 Essentially a cartoon short featuring a real live action girl. Commissioned by Margaret Winkler to create 12 Alice shorts. 

Understanding Animation, Paul Wells

“Disney established Walt Disney Productions in 1923, making his Laugh-O-Grams, which were mainly adaptations of popular fairytales like Puss in Boots, before embarking on his part animation, part live-action Alice in Wonderland films; which featured all quasi-revolutionary form and content which so enamoured Eisenstein.” (Page 22)

Alice in Wonderland, (1951), Dir. Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson & Hamilton Luske 

Not Disney’s first attempt at animating Alice – see Alice in Cartoonland. This film is very colourful and was animated as a piece of visual storytelling rather than a spoken film. The plot was carved out by the soundtrack at first – documenting conflict and substantial meetings – and then it was fleshed out in animation with voiceovers afterward.  

The World History of Animation, Stephen Cavalier

“After Song of the South (1946), a financial success which saw advances in mixing animation with live action, the 1950s and 1960s at Disney were short on innovation and progress compared with the previous decades…Most of the changes at Disney were to do with increasing industrialisation and profit rather than any aesthetic or technical improvements. After getting his fingers burnt in the war years and now forced to be more cautious in his approach by post-war economic austerity…did not make another top-grade animation feature for eight years after Bambi (1942)…followed in quick succession by Alice in Wonderland (1951)…These were all brilliantly crafted films but lacked he innovation, inspiration and pioneering of spirit of his earlier work. Part of the reason for this is that Walt Disney’s passion for animation had faded, probably due to the paints of the 1941 animators strike, and to reservations from some critics about his beloved projects Fantasia and, to a lesser extent, Pinocchio…His creativity was focused on his ideas for Disneyland and he left the animation department largely in the hands of his trusted “nine old men,” his famous senior team of super-skilled animators…Alice in Wonderland may seem like a more adventurous choice of material, but it is not so surprising when its remembered that Disney’s first success was with the Alice comedies of the 1920s, and Disney had intended to tackle an Alice feature for some years…Like some of Disney’s “package” features of the 1940s, the audience’s interest was intended to be maintained with songs and visual appeal rather than overall storyline…fans of Lewis Carroll’s classic disapproving of the Disneyfication, and Disney fans a bit uncomfortable with the story’s surrealist episodes and the spiky and somewhat grotesque nature of the supporting characters.” (Page 154)

Understanding Animation, Paul Wells

“The proliferation of mass-produced ‘cel’ animation has done much to overshadow the styles and approaches adopted by other animators in other contexts.” (Page 35) 

“The animation is achieved when ‘key drawings’ are produced indicating the ‘extreme’ first and last movement which are then ‘in-betweened’ to create the process of the move…the images are drawn on separate sheets of celluloid, painted, and photographed frame-by-frame against the appropriate background.” (Page 36)·

“Most early cartoons echoed or illustrated the musical forms of their soundtracks. This provided proto-narrative before particular scenarios were later developed. These were most often based on character conflict and chase sequences, where common environments became increasingly destablished as they became subject to destructive forces.” (Page 37).

“Metamorphosis is the ability for an image to literally change into another completely different image.” “It can also achieve transformations in figures and objects which essentially narrate those figures and objects, detailing, by implication, their intrinsic capacities.” (Page 69)

Alice in Wonderland (2010) and Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016), Dir. Tim Burton 

Answers the question of whether the animated version could be replicated in live action: yes, but only to an extent. Alice in Wonderland (2010) heavily relies on the ability to use special effects and CGI to transform movie sets and characters into more believable fairy tale versions. With this taken away, it would have to rely more on costumes and props, making it less appealing as the type of film that it is, if it could even be created this way. I believe it would work quite well as a play, but would make quite a plain and difficult movie. 

This adaptation discovers a much more diverse storyline, most of which is not covered in Disney’s original 1951 movie – in fact, all the events occur later on in Alice’s life instead of as a child like the classic movie. It could almost be treated as a sequel to the original animated film, as it happens later on when Alice has once already met all of the Wonderland – now called “Underland” – characters and forgotten them. Characters have a more detailed past – you both learn and know more about their backgrounds (especially when paired with its counterpart; Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016). It is dark and twisted, and like a lot of Tim Burton movies, would most likely be questioned as to whether it suits a younger audience. 

Absolem

represents transformation and metamorphosis “remains the constant locus of animation” (Wells)

as he transforms, so does Alice - he cocoons as Alice realises that the Jabberwocky is real and isn’t from a dream

he represents Vogler’s “mentor” archetype - he is always the one that tells us whether Alice is Alice or not, and he explains the Oraculum and Frabjous day etc.