#and it started off as schoolwork when we were studying the french revolution

[cepheusgalaxy]

Porquê se faz uma revolução

[Plain text: Porque se faz uma revolução /end PT.] [Translation: The reason for a revolution.]

You've found one of my oldest writing projects! This one was discontinued, but it still holds a special place in my heart, so I decided to share it, I guess. The original story is in [Brazilian] Portuguese, and it is still not translated, but my pt-br audience can enjoy it! This is the sinopsis (only thing getting translated for now), that I'm posting before the two chapters that exist. If you don't speak Portuguese, don't worry, it will get translated! Eventually.

INTRODUÇÃO [OG/PT-BR]

Grace Nicóle é uma jovem normal, vivendo na infeliz França normal. Por normal, significa que não era a França bela cheia de festas, bailes, comida e gastos terrivelmente desnecessários. Essa França era reservada a poucos: A alta burguesia, os nobres, o rei e principalmente a igreja. Todos esses grupos eram facilmente resumidos em um só; A Aristocracia.

A Infeliz França Normal, permita-me apresentar-lhe: Era a França que pagava impostos à aristocracia; era a França que sentia a fome causada pelas péssimas colheitas; era o povo francês que sentia na pele, no estômago e no coração a incompetência do rei.

O rei percebeu isso, e uma convocou Assembléia, pensando que poderia se safar e continuar a governar em meio às desgraças da França, como bem quisesse. Mas nesse dia, nesse ano, durante essa era, ficou marcada na história uma verdade: Nunca se deve tirar do povo o que é do povo.

O rei, Louis Décimo Sexto, nunca considerou essa verdade na sua vida, talvez. Talvez, no fim dela, após testemunhar tudo com seus próprios olhos, tenha percebido: O porquê se faz uma Revolução.

--

INTRODUCTION [EN]

Grace Nicóle is a normal teen, living in the disgraceful normal France. And by normal, it meant that it wasn't the beautiful France full of parties, balls, feasts and awfully high outlay. That France was reserved to few: The high burgeoise, the noble, the king and mainly the Church. All of these groups were easily referred to as just one; The Aristocrats.

A Disgraceful Normal France, allow me to present: it was the France that paid taxes to the Aristocracy; it was the France going hungry because of the unfruitful harvests; it was the people of France that felt on their bodies, on their stomaches and on their hearts the incopetence of the king.

The king became aware of that, and called for an Assembly, thinking that that way he could get away with it and continue to to reign amidst the disgraces of France, as much as he so desired. But in that day, in that year, in that age, it was marked in history a truth: It never must be taken from the people what is of the people.

The king, Louis the Sixth, was never faced with that truth in his life, perhaps. But perhaps, by the end of it, after witnessing it all with his own eyes, he might have realized: The reason for a revolution.

[emotionalsupportjedi]

Would You Care to Join Les Amis de l'ABC? (Les Miserables AU)

(Or the one where Wilbur gets you to join a revolution through an unknown cafe, featuring some french)

It was cold today, you wrapped your coat tighter around you as you walked to Puffy’s Cafe. You were a law student, and had a lot of schoolwork to do. Winter was always a busy time for your studies, but at least the cafe would be warm. You were quite grateful for the cravat around your neck to keep the chill off of your neck, your nose feeling as though it was frozen from the wind. You could see your breath, the children playing around town would pretend it was smoke and that they were dragons and knights. You missed playing games such as those, they were far more entertaining than your studies. Now you were deemed too old for games, your attention was directed to other disciplines; studies, a job, adult events such as the opera. You had no time to play pretend.

When you got to the cafe, you got settled in a booth in the corner closest to the door to the back room. You set your books, papers, pen, and inkwell on the table as you turned to the page of your book you needed. You ended up getting tea as you studied, which you neglected until it cooled. You were so focused on your work and your tea that you scarcely noticed the people slowly trickling into the room, the chatter from the other side of the door. Or at least you didn’t until there was some arguing, and a man walked out of the room, shaking his head as he went to order drinks, supposedly for the others in the room. 

He looked familiar, you tried to place where you may have seen him. When you came up with nothing, you turned back to your tea and studies. You were examining a legal case, one you didn’t find particularly exciting. You didn’t notice him observing you, recognising you from a law class you had together.

 As he waited in line, he debated if he should approach you, take a chance on you wanting to join him and his friends, perhaps to settle an argument they were having about the nation’s leader. Lord Clay, referred to only by Dream, with the exception of the aristocrats he familiarised himself with. He stayed in his million-franc estate, never seeing the poor on his streets, those without good food or warm shelter. It was time for change, many could see so. The sentiment was often shared by the man in line, who ran a political club based on those ideals. You had heard mentions of it, but wouldn't be able to recall the name if someone asked you.

After the man in line ordered, he decided to take a chance and advertise his club to you. He approached your table, deciding in his mind how he would propose this opportunity to you before speaking when you greeted him. 

“Do you need something, monsieur?”

You didn’t sound annoyed, which was a good start for him. You looked up over your work to meet his eyes, another good sign. He took a breath before starting his pitch to you. He had a charm to him, even before he spoke. You were intrigued by why the familiar stranger had come to talk to you.

“My name is Wilbur Soot, monsieur, I would like to ask if you would care to join Les Amis de l’ABC?”

Oh, so that was the name. You made a mental note of that, as well as of his name, before returning your attention to his proposition.

“We want to improve the lives of other citizens, you see, and we are always looking for others who wish to do the same to give their input.”

As Wilbur rambled about Les Amis de l’ABC, you gave what he was saying some thought. You had noticed the problems driven by Dream’s ignorance, and could empathise with his cause. As Wilbur closed out his speech, you hesitated for a moment more, as if really checking that you wanted to participate in his club. He felt his breath hitch, studying your face for a reaction.

“Monsieur, you make a good argument, I would like to join your club.” 

Wilbur breathed a silent sigh of relief, meeting your eyes and giving you an easy smile.

“I’m glad you think so.”

TAGS LIST

@pebblebrainlovejoy @harbingerofheartbreak @182-ash

[mrsacklesevansmgk]

Cursed - Chapter Three: Lana

Word Count: 3179

If anyone wants to be tagged, let me know :)

Catch up here

“The moon was so beautiful, that the ocean held up a mirror” – Ani DiFranco

“Hey Teeg’s, I’ve gotta go back to my locker…grabbed the wrong book,” I said, holding up my Classics book to show her, “You go on ahead and nab our seats.” I turned and walked back towards my locker, only realising once I got there, that I was supposed to be showing Adam around school and that included walking him to his next class, and in that moment, I felt bad. I dumped my English and Classics books in my locker, grabbing the right book this time and made my way towards Ms Kirkpatrick’s class. I walked into class still in a daze, found my seat next to Tegan and looked up into a familiar face. Adam was sitting there staring at me. I must have looked like a deer in headlights, as a smile quickly appeared on Adam’s face, which morphed into a chuckle when I didn’t smile back.

“Are you stalking me Adam?” I asked, while staring down at my books.

He chucked again and replied with a cheeky tone of voice, “No Lana, I’m not. But thanks for showing me around the school! I would have gotten lost otherwise.” The smile widened.

I tried my best to ignore him and his smile. But my teenage girl brain had other ideas when I felt my heart flutter a bit in response to his smile. “I uhhh…” I began. “You ‘uhhh’ what?” he replied. “Oh, you know, it’s Monday; it takes a while for the brain to kick in,” I said, nodding with commitment, hoping that the joke I had cracked at my own expense would be enough to break the tension I was feeling.

I pulled open my History textbook, again seeking solace in my schoolwork, I realised it was a crutch I used quite often in life; not that there was anything wrong with that. I pulled out my notes from last week’s class and started going over the key points from the lessons. I had this OCD way of taking notes. I would literally write anything and everything, then go back over the notes during study period or in the evening and make 10 key points, and colour code them based on whatever logic I had worked out for that class and then at the beginning of the next class I would go back over those 10 key points to refresh my memory.

As I read over my notes, my mind easily wandered away from recapping the French Revolution and towards the person sitting next to me. Without even noticing, I was no longer reading my notes, I was looking at Adam; not just out of the corner of my eye, but full on, body turned, looking at Adam. What the hell had gotten into me? Luckily, he didn’t look up. I couldn’t imagine how I’d be able to explain getting caught staring at him for the second time this morning. I did, however, manage to peel my eyes away from him and back to my notes, only to feel his eyes burning into me mere seconds later. There was something about his eyes. It felt like they were hiding a small little world behind them, and I was both intrigued and eager to find out more.

For the first time in months, History seemed interesting; not because of the topic, but because of Adam. We didn’t talk much, just random polite conversation, but there was something about him, something that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Adam seemed genuinely interested in anything I had to say. Being the younger and much less-prettier sister of the amazing ‘goddess-like’ Eleanor, I was practically ignored by the majority of the student population, not that I minded. But with Adam, it was almost like ‘Eleanor who?’

Once again, the hour flew by, and the bell rang signaling the end of the second period. I stood and smiled a goodbye to Adam and joined Tegan as we made our way back to our lockers. The boys were already there, waiting, impatiently, might I add. I managed to open my locker and dump my books before Justin grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me into a nearly deserted classroom. What the hell? I thought, and I was just about to ask him when I saw the look on his face. Justin liked to pretend that he was easy going, that nothing bothered him and that he didn’t take life too seriously. But I knew him better than that. Something was really bothering him, and I was sure I was about to find out.

“Everyone is talking about you! Don’t you know?!” he said as his eyes blazed into me. He looked really frustrated, and like a storm was brewing inside.

I stood there dumbfounded. What was he talking about? Everyone was talking about Eleanor and her college celeb boyfriend, not about me, her unpopular, boring sister.

He stared at me with questioning eyes and waited for my response. I couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying, let alone have the ability to form an answer to his question. He took my silence as a ‘no’.

“They’re all talking about you and that new kid.” I continued to stare blankly at my one of best friends. He had never cornered me in such a way before, was he jealous or is it something more? I wondered.

“Who is talking about what?” I asked, still looking confused. “Yeah, the new kid, he’s in my class…I talked to him. Mr Lord asked me to show him around school, make him feel welcome…What’s the big deal?”

“Uhhhh,” Justin said. He looked frustrated that I just wasn’t getting what he was trying to say. “Just that he is the hottest guy this school has ever seen and that YOU seem to have caught his attention, despite Lydia, Marie and their clique throwing themselves at him every chance they got!”

I cracked a smile. This was one of the weirdest conversations that I had ever had with Justin…and that’s saying a lot because we talked about some weird things! “Pfft, what are you talking about? I sat next to him in a few classes, Mr Lord volunteered me to show him around. I barely know him. I don’t know him. People need to mind their business.”

Justin wasn’t really interested in hearing what I had to say. It was like he was on autopilot, filling me in on everything he’d heard about the new kid and myself over the past two hours. I had never, and I mean NEVER, been the topic of any gossip before at this school. Not with Eleanor around! I knew she wouldn’t be happy about this. Not only had she been relegated to “old news” in less than an hour, but she’d also been bumped from being the hottest topic by none other than her ugly duckling younger sister. Knowing her as well as I did, there was going to be hell to pay at home this evening...she would be unbearable! But also, I know that she isn’t going to stand for it. Her name would be back on everyone’s lips by tomorrow morning, she’d make sure of that!

As Justin continued rattling off an embellished version of events, my brain began processing what he was saying. It was a bit over the top, but that’s how rumours work. They start off innocently enough and then as they pass from one person to the next, the story morphs into something completely different, and the next thing you know, the rumour is so far removed from the truth. Justin was still rattling on, but I knew he’d have to stop and take a breath sooner or later, and that moment was coming.

“Justin! Stop!!” I rushed out! “You’re making such a big deal out of this. I never thought you’d be one to feed into the rumours and gossip around here; let alone, rumours about me. You should know me better than that!!” I said, “Nothing happened between Adam and me. We talked. We sat next to each other. Nothing more, nothing less. Now stop this nonsense and let’s go! I want to grab some morning tea!!”

I walked away, done with the conversation. Just as I was about to grab the door handle, I heard Justin say “Okay, okay! You’re right, I’m sorry I got carried away! It’s just that everyone was talking about it, and I felt like I was the last to know! I felt like I’d been left out of my best friend’s life...even if for only a few hours. But now I can see how things were blown wayyyyy out of proportion!!”

I turned around and gave him my biggest smile, “I’d NEVER leave you out of my life like that! The second anything noteworthy happens in my life, you’re the first person I tell!” He walked over to me, and I gave him a bit of a side hug, which was awkward considering how tall he was. “Now, let’s go!!” and I dragged him out of the classroom and back towards our group of friends. We had about ten minutes left before our next class, so I made a beeline for the cafeteria. There wasn’t much of a line, but the few minutes I spent waiting to be served resulted in at least a half a dozen random looks, followed by hushed whispers behind hands. Soon enough the whispers were no longer hushed, but loud enough for me to hear; things like “Ugh, why her? She’s so bland and boring!” or “Look at what she’s wearing. She’s such a freak!” It didn’t faze me though, I expected nothing less from the sheep at this school.

I was almost at the front of the queue, but I hadn’t decided what I wanted. I turned to Justin, who was also eyeing up the menu. We decided to split a fruit bowl. Justin offered to make the order while I waited outside, away from the staring, whispers and comments. As I waited outside of the cafeteria, the comments got louder and meaner; the sheep of the school weren’t hiding the fact that they had a problem that I seemed to have Adam’s attention. I looked over towards the field, I felt like I needed to be in an open space, less suffocating place. As I contemplated my next move, I looked up and seen Adam sitting at a nearby table. Obviously, he too could hear the comments and that was the tipping point. I needed to get out of here.

I dashed towards the field. “Wait, Lana!” I heard from behind me. But I ignored whoever it was and pushed past a large group. Luckily for me, most people were heading back to class. I rounded the corner by the gym, but I hadn’t been watching where I was going and ran straight into the last person, I wanted to see…Adam. Weird, I thought, how did he get ahead of me? I looked up, fumbled out an apology and attempted to dash around him but I wasn’t fast enough. He gently took my elbow and pulled me back to face him. His touch was similar to the way he had helped me earlier in class and much gentler than Justin had mere minutes earlier. I sighed heavily, mostly out of frustration more than anything. I didn’t want to be there; I didn’t want to be at school; I most definitely did not want to be standing here talking to Adam, because I knew this would just fuel more gossip. I could literally feel the eyes drilling into me. What I did want was to be back in the meadow, listening to the stream and the birds and staring up at the sky through the trees. I wanted to be in my safe place.

It was at that moment that Justin caught up with me, stopping just to the left of my shoulder and staring wide-eyed at Adam and then at Adam’s hand on my elbow. “Lana there you are!” Justin said, “What happened?” He continued to stare, and neither Adam nor I responded. “We’ve got class!” He prompted as he looped his arm in mine and pulled me away from Adam’s grasp. For the second time since I’d met him a few hours earlier, I looked back to see Adam standing where I’d left him, staring after me, with a look of pure confusion on his face.

Justin and I ran towards the Maths Department. Maths was one of my favourite classes, but that’s only because it was one of the few classes that I shared with Justin. And right now, I need my best friend, Justin! I don’t think I would have made it through class knowing that everyone would be staring and talking about me. For as long as I could remember, I was fine with being in the background and never being the centre of attention. We were just about to enter our classroom when we saw Lydia and Marie walking down the hall, whispering, of course! The closer they got, the more of their conversation we could hear. And surprise, surprise! They were talking about yours truly! They looked up at me and then towards each other and giggled loudly. I decided I was going to ignore everyone and get on with class; they were probably just jealous that they weren’t in the same classes as Adam or that he was being friendly with me and not them.

In class Mr Pattinson was rambling on about algebra or something like that. I tried to pay attention to him but with Justin there, I just wanted to talk to him like we usually did in class. I could feel everybody’s eyes on me, watching and waiting for something to happen. I grabbed a scrap piece of paper and scribbled a note to Justin in my sloppy handwriting.

Why is everyone acting like this is such a big deal? Just because he talked to me?! What’s so great ‘bout that?!

I quickly handed the note to Justin and watched him read it out of the corner of my eye. He picked up his pen and scribbled something and handed it back.

Maybe it’s because he is the new hot guy, and they want to know why he’s talking to you instead of fawning over them. I don’t know! Like you said, you were just talking, no big deal. It’ll blow over soon, don’t worry about it.

Justin was right. Well really, I was right. This is what I’d been saying all morning. It was nothing. No big deal. It’d all blow over by the end of the day.

The rest of the day went by quickly. I spent the lunch hour sitting in the sun on the field with Justin and Tegan as we watched Dillon and Felix play-wrestle not far from us. The heat from the sun felt good against my back, but I was regretting my wardrobe choices this morning; I was also kicking myself for not grabbing my sunglasses. After lunch I had Classics and I finished up my day with a study period. I sat through Classics feigning attention. I had long since mastered the ability to look like I was engaged and paying attention, when in reality I was completely zoned out. I paid no attention to the whispers, comments or looks that came my way and I didn’t notice if Adam was in any more of my classes. I didn’t even care at this point. If I wanted things to blow over then I had to stop feeding into the drama of it all, I had to stop waiting for him to show up and make things awkward again.

Independent Study was probably my favourite ‘class’ and it wasn’t even really a class. Pretty much we went to a classroom and sat in silence for about an hour because we were supposed to be ‘studying’ or catching up on homework. Usually, I spent the hour listening to music, writing in my journal or writing letters to my friends, but today I needed to actually get some study done. I settled into my usual seat at the back of the class and immediately switched playlists. I needed less ‘emo’ and more ‘calm.’ I needed to focus on my History essay. I quickly glanced around the room. One half of the mean-girls were here, Marie sitting 3 desks to the right, 2 rows ahead. She was far more tolerable with Lydia, but still had a bit of a mean streak. I got stuck into the essay – some days these things flowed out of me, today was one of those days.

I don’t know how long it took, but soon the essay had been forgotten and I was staring out the window daydreaming when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I’d seen something white fluttering by. I glanced around the room but couldn’t figure out what had caught my attention. I picked up my pen again and re-read the last sentence I’d written when I noticed a small white folded piece of paper sitting on my desk. I glanced around the room again, with a look of confusion on my face, hoping to figure out where this piece of paper had come from. This time I noticed a familiar figure sitting a few desks away. It was none other than Adam. Why hadn’t I noticed him before now? Or had he only just turned up? I gently unfold the piece of paper before me.

Is it just me or is everyone here really nosey? They just keep staring at me as if I have a tattoo on my face! What other classes did you have today? Well, I hope you write back. It’ll give me something to do because it is quite boring having no study to do in independent study. - Adam

As I read the note, I could feel him watching me and laughing at my facial expressions. I looked up and he was looking at me then looked at the paper, waiting for me to reply. I picked up my pen and started to write: Yes people here are nosey, but you’re the new kid so it happens. I’m sure you heard the whispers at the cafeteria. You and I are the talk of the school. It’ll blow over, I don’t care what people think anyway. As for now I’m going back to my music! Enjoy the rest of your study time.

I finished writing and added a little smiley face at the bottom with its tongue poking out. I folded up the note and tossed it across the table to him then turned up my music and smiled to myself. Leaning back into my chair I let my music take me away. I closed my eyes and it felt like I was in my little meadow again lying in the grass.

[margridarnauds]

XVI. The Tower and XXII. The Fool please!

Thanks!

XVI. The Tower: Do you easily change your opinion on matters? What makes you lose faith in other people? Is there anything, or anyone you feel safe with?

Do you easily change your opinion on matters?

I don’t really think I change my opinion TOO much, at its base, if that makes any sense? When I’m around people, I do find myself molding myself into what the conversation requires, or at least shutting myself up unless it’s something that I find truly deplorable/can back up easily, but I think it takes a lot for my own personal opinion to change. Except for that one day or so when I woke up a conservative Methodist and went to bed as a liberal (alright I was “libertarian” but that went down the drain fast) atheist. That was a fun time. In my research, I try to keep an open mind, but I’ll own to my own confirmation bias. I can say “This is a good paper, you make good arguments,” but…do I fully accept it in my mind? No. But also I tend to see things more in shades of gray to a potentially annoying extent as it is, so when I change my opinion, it’s…not necessarily a matter of saying “This thing has some bad points” it’s “This thing’s bad points now outweigh its good points in my mind.” Part of why I ultimately chose lit over history as my focus was that I like that there’s not really a press for an Ultimate Truth in lit, in the sense that everything’s much more open to interpretation, whereas history tends to pressure more for definite ARGUMENTS. 

What makes you lose faith in other people?

It’s odd, because losing faith in people, for me, is rarely a matter of ONE single thing. I try to give people second and third chances, I tend to brush off that little niggling, “Something’s not right here” feeling, etc. So, when I finally lose faith, it’s a Big Thing, but it’s also not one that I can solidly put down to a single thing, which also makes it very hard when I’m trying to build a timeline in my head. Betrayal, lies, cruelty (though I do TRY to understand that people can have bad days, but…it doesn’t ERASE it, you know?), willful ignorance, finding out that they support things that I find personally deplorable, all the things that you’d really expect. 

(Funny story there: For ages I didn’t get crushes. Not one. Then, I got a strange…thing on a guy in my German class. Not a straight-up crush, but I LIKED him in a way that was slightly more than platonic. And I was like, “Okay, I’m bi instead of ace after all.” Then, I found out he supported Trump and he made some insanely transphobic and biphobic comments under the guise of “debate” because he was That Guy. /Crush, and that was basically the last time I got a crush on a guy. My brain just went “nein.”) 

It’s also really, really hard if I’d previously really trusted and looked up to someone and that happens. That’s really when I start wondering if there’s something wrong with *me* or if I’m over-exaggerating things to suit my own narrative. 

Is there anything, or anyone you feel safe with?

My dogs, my cats, my mom, for the most part, though she does have the little habit of telling my aunt things in the name of “family unity” when I had meant for it to be a personal matter. See: When I begged her not to tell my aunt I’m an atheist because my aunt is REALLY STAUNCHLY conservative, when I begged her not to tell her that I wanted to get out of the country because of the situation at home + politically, etc. 

Safety is a generally relative concept, anyway; I can trust that my mom and aunt won’t abandon me to be raised by wolves and will be there for me when I need them barring a huge catastrophe, I can trust that my mom can help me work through an anxiety attack and keep a solid 80% of my secrets, I can trust that my friends can handle my various eccentricities and questionable sense of humor, and I can trust that my dogs and cats will be with me no matter what because I’m the one who feeds them and gives them scritches. 

It’s all much less depressing than it sounds. 

XXII. The Fool: How much weight do you give to other people’s opinion? What is an adventure you were part of - or you wish you could be part of? Is there something you have an endless passion for? 

How much weight do you give to other people’s opinion?

I blame it on the bullying, but I have this odd…thing where I simultaneously have an “I don’t give a fuck” and “I give every fuck” attitude to people’s opinions. Like, on one hand, there’s probably not been a single feature of mine that’s not been ripped to pieces at some point. I mean, I had comics drawn of me having sex with my cats by my best friend at the time when I was 12 years old. It was a lovely, lovely period in my life. And, as a result, I think I developed a very self-deprecating sense of humor, as well as the idea that, well, I’ll be ripped to shreds no matter what, so I might as well express myself and damn the consequences. 

Well…that and being homeschooled for most of my high school years. It’s astonishing how much your opinions and interests can diverge if you’re not under the pressure to necessarily conform.  

But, at the same time, it also made me sensitive to personal criticism, as I have this idea that everyone hates me and is just being polite, that I’m really annoying, etc. One of the things that actually devastated me in college was reading teacher feedback, because even though I knew they were just trying to help me become a stronger academic, the thought that they might find me…wanting in some way stung. Especially when it was teachers that I really respected and looked up to. (Which, tbh, was all my teachers because I have a painful…thing when it comes to authority figures and trying to appease them and-Oh God I’m actually Peyrol minus the homicide, erratic temper, and questionable BDSM. That and our faculty was lovely.) I legit had to have my mom read the feedback, because I wanted to have it filtered and I was, like, worried one of them would say, “Rachel, you are a disgrace to the Humanities program and this school. This paper is shit. Goodbye” or something. 

I’Il often find myself softening my opinions or keeping silent if I feel like it could be dangerous, or if it might affect someone’s view of me, and I’m hyper-sensitive about, say, pauses in a conversation, because I’ll be like, “Oh, I’ve done it now.” And then in the next second, I’ll reblog, “FUCK OFF ANTIS” on my blog because, again, it’s a strange duality…thing with me. 

What is an adventure you were part of - or you wish you could be part of?

Oh, God, I’ve had some wild times. There’s the time that we were moving and ended up driving over a thousand miles overnight in a fifteen passenger van because we had 17 cats, two birds, and a bunny with us. And then had to travel BACK the next day because we had business to attend to back in our old place. 

OR the time that my late uncle lost his keys on a rollercoaster at Busch Gardens and so we ended up having to travel over three hours from where we live to rescue him, which is how we ended up meeting his boyfriend for the first time. 

OR the time that we picked up the youngest of our three dogs, Riley, when we ran into a curb less than ten minutes out, encountered various and assorted technical issues during the ~4 hours of the rest of the trip, and THEN when we were going back I had my hands nearly nibbled to death by an overeager puppy who was excited by the prospect of new friends. (This is how we met the nice old lady who gave me the money for the Toho 1789 + Riley is a sweet dog once he’s settled, so it was #WorthIt)

I really, really want to get out of the States, travel to different places around the world…see more musicals. Definitely see more musicals. I’m very aware of how limited my experience is, not having ever been out of my own country. (Unless you count briefly being over Canada when I was en route to Alaska, which I don’t.) I would love to go to Ireland and see some of the places mentioned in the various myths that I’ve read so much about, possibly embarrass myself by crying over Bres’ grave; I’d love to hit up the Tower of London or Versailles; go to either a Toho or Takarazuka musical in Japan (If and when my Japanese improves beyond「 アメリカ人です ���since I’d really rather be able to show my face in public). See snow again, maybe, since I do miss it.

 My old college offered study abroad trips to Oxford over the summer and I REALLY wanted to go, but, alas, it was insanely expensive + I wasn’t entirely sure about how much I would be able to enjoy myself if I had schoolwork to do, since I’d end up focusing on making that perfect rather than actually appreciating the trip. 

Alternatively: The Ghost Tour at Saint Augustine. I want to go on it SO MUCH. 

Is there something you have an endless passion for? 

Any of the musicals I’ve been lucky to get into (Especially. The one. You know the one. The one that I don’t even need to mention given that it consumes about 80% of my brain power at any given point), anything related to Irish Mythology, especially when it comes to my boy Bres, the French Revolution even though it also scares me because the scope of it’s so large and I never really feel like I make progress in it, female villainesses who can kill me and I would thank them (which is…a disturbingly large amount, actually). 

In general, I’m the type of person who develops special interests where I’ll become OBSESSIVE over learning everything I can about something and kind of latch onto it, so anything I’ve developed that for kind of goes here by default. 

And my dogs. Because they’re Good Bois (+ one Good Girl) and I honestly am not sure where I’d be atm without them. And my cats for tolerating my shit for this long. 

[preyed-llama]

Pardon me. Are you Aaron Burr, sir?

Summary: Roman needed to learn a song for the musical, but he highly doubted he learned anything when the attractive worker with nothing better to do ran his lines with him. It’s sort of a song fic, but not quite, either way. Aaron Burr, sir, from Hamiltion: the musical is a key part of the story. 

Ship: Logince 

Genre: Fluff. 

Warnings: none

Roman sighed as he read over the song one last time. The fast food place was semoty except for a worker about his age who was reading a textbook. He glanced at his phone to see the large glaring ‘12:57′. He stared at his phone for several moments before it faded to the black screen. 

He let out a groan as the man walked over and sunk into the chair opposite him with a coffee. He slid it across the table, startling Roman from his thoughts. “Salutations, you’ve been staring at that for quite some time, need some help?” 

Roman looked up and nodded slowly. He handed the script over and watched as the man’s gaze moved down the page. He nodded and handed the script back. “1776, New York City.” He all but chanted. 

The actor tensed and looked down at his script, the yellow highlight was glaring at him. “Pardon me. Are you Aaron Burr, sir?” Roman asked as he glanced up at the other man and offered the script. The man, who’s name tag read Logan, shook his head. 

“That depends. Who’s asking?” Logan asked as he leaned on his hand. His fingers brushed against the frame of his glasses as he waited for Roman. Who let out a shaky laugh and looked over the script again. 

“Oh, well, sure, sir. I’m Alexander Hamilton, I’m at your service, sir.” Roman rushed through the lines as he felt the man’s gaze burn into his skin. He looked up to see the man staring at him with a half-amused, half-bored expression. “I have been looking for you.”  

“I’m getting nervous.” Oh god, no ones voice should sound so good. He blushed as he gazed at the other man. Logan’s attention was on the coffee in front of him as Roman tried to stop the blush that sunk down his neck. 

“Sir...” Roman breathed out as he gazed at the other man. “I heard your name at Princeton. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punched him. It’s a blur, sir. He handles the financials?” Roman sing-songed as he glanced down at his script.

Logan gazed at him with an amused look. “You punched the bursar.”

“Yes!” Roman said quickly. He ducked behind his script and felt nervousness bubble inside of him, which was weird, since he was only nervous when it came to tests and people he had feelings for. “I wanted to do what you did. Graduate in two, then join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid, I’m not stupid.” He locked eyes with the other man and frowned, the deep blue oceans were why he was nervous. The man in front of him was unfairly hot and either a genius or interested in musicals. 

The man coughed and pointed to the script. Roman’s thoughts pulled to a stop as he looked down and let out a shaky, nervous laugh. “So how’d you do it? How’d  you graduate so fast?” Roman finished the line and hid the blush behind the script. 

“It was my parents’ dying wish before they passed.” Logan said sadly. He took a sip of his coffee as he waited for Roman to continue. 

Roman exhaled and quickly tried to clear his thoughts of the man in front of him with the deep blue eyes and dark chestnut locks and Roman was almost certain that the man had freckles like constellations. 

Roman caught himself before it became to embarrassing and excitedly said his line. “You’re an orphan. Of course! I’m an orphan! God, I wish there was a war! Then we could prove that we’re worth more than anyone bargained for...”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Logan asked. Roman jumped and was about to respond with the flirtiest ‘yes’ he could muster when his eyes landed on the script in front of him. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ stared up at him mockingly as Roman deflated slightly. 

“That would be nice.” He muttered awkwardly. 

Logan seemed to have missed the problem because he stated his line like nothing had happened. “While we’re talking, let me offer you some free advice. Talk less.”

“What?” Roman breathed out as he tried to forget about what just happened. 

“Smile more.” Logan sighed as a large smile bloomed on his fast. Roman blushed brightly as his heart skipped a beat. He forced out the laugh. “Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.”

Roman looked down and hid behind his hair as he read the script in front of him. “You can’t be serious.” He muttered as he played with the corner of the page.

“You wanna get ahead?” 

“Yes.”

“Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.” Logan stated threateningly as he ran his thumb over the cup. Roman felt a shiver run down his spine as he tried to work out who would take what. 

Logan beat him to the chase when he quickly started to state Lauren’s lines. “Yo yo yo yo yo! What time is it? SHOW TIME.” Roman looked up and smiled as Logan quickly juggled all four men’s lines. 

“Like I said.” He muttered in his ‘Burr’ voice. It was smooth and dangerous, charming but it so quickly became threatening.

He cleared his throat and smiled. Energy radiated off him as he gazed as Roman. “Show time! Show time! Yo! I’m John Laurens in the place to be! Two pints o’ Sam Adams, but I’m working on three, uh! Those redcoats don’t want it with me! Cuz I will pop chick-a pop these cops till I’m free!” Roman stared with a slack jaw at the man’s rapping. Laurens sounded so different from Burr, more childish and happy. 

Logan was moving onto Lafayette as Roman struggled out of his shocked state. “Oui oui, mon ami, je m’appelle Lafayette! The Lancelot of he revolutionary set! I came from afar just to say ‘Bonsoir!’ Tell the King ‘Casse toi!’ Who’s the best? C’est moi!” 

Cause of death. The most attractive man Roman ever knew, rapping a musical, with a french accent and saying some french words. Roman was sure he was in heaven. Logan’s Lafayette was powerful and flirty, his french accent was perfect and terrifying.

“Brrrah brraaah! I am Hercules Mulligan. Up in it, lovin’ it, yes I heard ya mother said ‘Come again?’” Logan’s voice was masculine and powerful. He skipped Lafayette and Laurens part, instead falling into the final of Mulligan’s introduction. “Lock up ya daughters and horses, of course, it’s hard to have intercourse over four sets of corsets...” 

Logan quickly put on the french accent. “Wow.”

“No more sex, pour me another brew, son! Let’s raise a couple more...” Roman figured that he should just hand over his lead role to Logan. He was almost certain that Logan could play all the roles and still perfect the performance. Maybe Roman was a little biased, but Logan had managed to move through three different voices with no problem and no hesitation. 

“To the revolution!” Logan exclaimed as he raised his glass. Roman glanced at the script and frowned. There’s no way he could do this! He thought as he gazed at the challenge. 

“Well, if it ain’t the prodigy of Princeton college!” Logan said in that adorable, happy voice. 

“Aaron Burr!” He said powerfully as and rolled out the ‘r’. Roman blushed brightly, luckily the man was more distracted by the scene playing out in his head as he said the lines. 

He snapped his eyes open as he forced the large, childish smile. “Give us a verse, drop some knowledge!”

“Good luck with that: You’re takin’ a stand.” Roman wondered if he’d gone to hell. That man in front of him was hot enough and that voice couldn’t belong to any human, it was too smooth and dangerous. “You spit. I’m ‘a sit. We’ll see where we land.” 

“Booo!” He almost shouted as he swirled his cup. 

“Burr, the revolution’s imminent. What do you stall for?” Roman didn’t know anyone could make Laurens sound so scary, yet caring. 

He was so caught up in the voices that he almost missed his line. “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?” He tried to make it sound as intimidating as Logan had, but he doubted he sounded any scarier than a mouse with a spoon. 

Logan didn’t seem to mind. He continued on anyway. “Who, who are you? Who are you? Who are you? Who is this kid? What’s he gonna do?” Logan said. His voice bounced around as excitement and curiosity and happiness made it’s way into his tone. 

Roman blinked several times as he looked down at the script. He could feel a sinking sensation rush over him as he wished for this to have lasted longer. “Uh thanks.” Roman said awkwardly as he glared at the page and willed the song to go longer. 

The man in front of him finished his coffee. He no longer seemed like the characters, there was no childish happiness, no smooth but dangerous aspects, no flirty, and no powerful. “You’re welcome. We’re closing in several moments.” Unlike his other characters in the song his voice was emotionless. It almost felt diluted compared to how he just spoke. 

He collected Roman and his paper cups and threw them into the bin. Roman packed up his script and pen as Logan collected his textbook and schoolwork he’d been working on earlier. 

Roman walked towards the door and was cut off by a cough behind him. He turned to see Logan with a piece of paper in his hand. He handled it to Roman and straightened up. His eyes stayed on Roman as the lights danced off his glasses. “My phone number for if you wish to run through your professional make-believe again.” 

He nodded slowly and slid the piece of paper into his pocket as his mind tried to say anything other than the mess of cuss words that swam through it. Roman left the building as Logan raced around and cleaned the last few things. His heart hammered in his chest as he walked down the street towards his apartment. 

The light from his phone lit up his face as he quickly opened it and typed in Logan’s information. Not even the cold breeze could melt through the warm red blush that covered his face and neck.