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popculturebuffet · 1 year ago

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Lion King II: Simba's Pride Review (Birthday Review for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people and it's time once again for that annual tradition where I celebrate Kev, my client turned friend and client who comissions much of the reviews you see on this blog, exactly how he likes.. by talking about lions for a while. And after covering the rather abismal interquel 1/2 last year, we're finally onto the sequel this year, Simba's Pride.

Simba's Pride is my first time covering one of Disney's various DTV sequels. And while many a kid can recalled having to suffer through these things , I honestly don't have a ton of experince with them. I saw about 6 as a kid: the aladdin sequels, extremley goofy movie, this one, pocahantas and hunchback. I saw them advertised sure but I was more a toy story kid. I watched and was scarred by that one way more than most other disney films outside of say Aladdin, which I remember watching all the time .That and the aristocats. MOstly for that bitching opening

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So i'ts not a suprise the only ones I really remembered were the aladdin sequels.. and extremley goofy movie, which is likely responsible for me loving goofy so much. Yes over the orignal , I just headbanged to the aristocats what makes you think I just magically turned into this one day?

That said.. I was curious to revisit this one when the time came as Lion King II has one of the better reputations among the disney sequels, feeling both SLIGHLTY more necessary. It's well liked to the point that when lion king sequel series LIon Guard happened, Lion King 2 was kept fully canon, to the point season 3 goes out of it's way to explain why the new crop of chracters from lion guard are absent during this film.

So the question is does this film hold up... or is it simply good by comparison to Mulan II: Everyone Woke up On the Wrong Side of the Bed This Morning? Find out with me under the cut.

We're Doin a Sequel: I almost didn't have much of a production section this time, but thankfully wikipedia provides.. in this case an old LA Times article from when the movie was in pre-release. It's not DEEP into production but it least it gives me some insight into how the sausage was made on this one.

The first was this pretty damming line from Buena Vista Home Entertainment's president, which sums up the DTV boom in a nutshell

“We look at the feature animation business as a way to set up the original story,” said Michael Johnson, president of Buena Vista Home Entertainment Worldwide. “Their energies are absorbed completely in new productions. So we have set up a division through the television animation group to do the sequels. . . . That’s not to say this isn’t good enough to go theatrical.”

This.. may be one of the grossest things i've seen disney do. It's not homophobia gross, it's not "making a feature film next to a concentration camp" gross, but it's still horrible to make a division just to make cheap sequels you don't consider anything but money , not only discrediting the work done by the animators on these films, but also admitting your making a shoddy product just to get money from parents who trust your brand. Am I saying this is the first or last time any company, disney included, pulled this kind of shit? No. Not even close. Even GOOD movies have done greasy shit to their animators, see the shoddy conditions on across the spider-verse. But this is still a special kind of wrong and set up a whole industry of wrong in these cheap half assed sequels. If antyhing could remind me WHY we need the writers and actors strikes, this is a big flashing symbol as to why as execs haven't really changed how they treat animation, just the tactics for being shitty to it.

That being said as always it didn't stop the team from trying hard, as Sharon Morill, then vp of DisneyTVA which also ran these things, was determined to break the stigma. It sadly didn't happen, but I can't fault her for trying. And Lion King II did try. It had a four year development cycle, which for animation seems pretty normal, but for one of these films is twice the length. They also changed up some things along the way but we'll get more into that with the film itself. The film released to mostly good reviews, with no one liking it more than the first but still finding it a fine sequel. So what'd I think of it? Let's explore that shall we? A Good Idea at The Time The core of Lion King II isn't terrible. it has some cracks just from the foundation but it's a solid idea for a sequel: We focus now on Kiara, Simba's daughter, played by the star of one of my faviorite franchises and a huge get for the time, Scream star Neve Campbell, who was just coming off scream 2 when this film came out no less. She does a great job once we get to the present with what she has, suprising no one. This honestly wasn't a bad move: unlike most disney sequels the setup for one is there in the finale with Kiara's cornoation, which is where this film picks up before going into her life as a cub, then spending most of the film on her as a young adult. Not only that the film does have the clever idea to play off Simba's trauma: he's overprotective of his daughter and Nala can see it.. and it wears on her more and more with time, with her finding pride rock confining and being annoyed he constantly sends her gay grandpas to go spy on her. You can see both sides: To kiara the pridelands have become a cage her dad's keeping her in but you get that simba still has lingering trauma from both Mufasa's death and his own buffet of near death experinces. Simba is wrong to smother her like this, but you can at least see why he's like this.

This time though there's ANOTHER lead, Kovu, played by disney legend and goof Jason Marsden, which sets a trend: While Cambell is a big flashy name most of the cast are either returning form the first one or are vetran voice actors or tv stars. Nothing wrong with this as the cast with one glaring exception we'll get to all does a fantastic job. The only one not to return is Rowan Atkinson, whose replaced by Fraiser Vetran Edward Hibbert and who does.. fine. He's not as good as rowan, but he's not bad and Zazu isn't in the film enough for it to be a real issue.

Kovu is one of the outcasts, a group of lions who were banished from the pridelands for supporting scar wholeheartdly. I'm a bit torn on the outsiders as the concept: I like the idea Scar had actual supporters, that Simba, given how much scar had done to him, overreacted and banished them all instead of trying to work with them, giving them legit reasons beyond WE EVIL to hate Simba and want him dead. That said.. their also a MASSIVE retcon that makes zero sense in the context of the original film. What lionesses we saw hated Scar and resented him, the pridelands were dying so it's hard to see why anyone would support him, even a small pack , EXCEPT simply being evil, and NONE OF THEM did anything about scar being eaten by the hyenas nor against the rest of the lions, nor tried to start a war when Simba exiled them. The Hyenas are also conspciously absent as , despite Cheech Marin being tapped to return, they were apparently written out.

There's also a massive elephant in the room: See if you look at Kovu you notice he kinda LOOKS like Scar and his mom, the leader of the outcasts and one of the best parts of the film Zira, played by Suzanna Planchette to vllanous resentful perfection, acts more like a vengeful widow. Surely i'm just reading too much into this and Disney didn't SERIOUSLLY consider making a film about incest right?

Yes. I wish to Mufasa up above I was kidding. Granted this info is midly suspect as neither tv tropes nor wikipedia have a link for it.. but givne Kovu looks like scar, how Zira acts about her former leader and lover, and how it seems very weird Scar wouldn't just sire an heir outright and just pick some random baby, i'm feeling it's true and it's laughable they got as far as they did before someone said "Wait isn't this incest' Which yes, yes it is. It makes the romance between the two feel weird as even with the film trying to act like Kovu isn't scar's son just his heir... it still very much comes off like Kovu IS scar's son and no one brings it up becuase lions apparently give a much of a shit about incest as the writers of this flim did.

Zira and Kovu are fascinating though: Zir ais as clever as scar, has a swagger to her and seems just at all times like a snarling engine of vengance. Her husband is dead.. and so his murderer shall burn. She's not deeply complex, but she is incredibly fun to watch and sometimes tha'ts all you need. Kovu meanwhile has a LOT of fascinating layers: he shows up hostile to kira as a cub and it's clear with how the outsiders function that he's been raised as a weapon his whole life: only to fight an dsurvivie with what scraps they have out there. And his transition to adulthood is shattering: Kiara is just herself but older, simply less willing to take her dad's shit after a lifetime of it. Kovu by contrast goes from a fairly sweet innocent kid.. to a revenge engine modled by his mom to infiltrate the lions and kill simba. Marsden gives a truly awesome performance, with just what Kovu has become being clear.. but also that beneath that what he could get from Simba's side of things.. could be better.

The problem is that while the setup is really good, the first third of the film having the two as kids and setting up the situation, and it's enough that I just ignore the massive leaps needed for the outsiders to exist or the fact their basically the hyenas but as lions, the rest of the film... does almost nothing with it. Instead of diving into these two characters and especially Kovu's very complciated crisis of concious.. they just do things in the most most cliche and tired way possible: Kovu finds his new life almost instantly better and plans to tell Kiara asap but can't, his clan gets tired and attacks, Simba blames Kovu and tries to clamp down harder and kiara leaves, theyg o back to stop a war. it's basically west side story or romeo and juliet but speedran so all the actual conflict and emotoin is gone. Kovu dosen't even kill anyone, the death is on Simba for Kovu's brother.

Oh and since we have to talk about him at some point let's talk about Kovu's brother. His brother is Nuka, a shabby lion who thinks he should be heir but proves every second why he shoudln't and why his mom didn't choose him, basically being comedy relief. They then try to give him a tragic death scene which would work.. if it were not for one clear error. one horrible mistake that ruins the character. They cast Andy Dick to play him

Yeah even putting aside his harassment , general creepiness and the fact John Lovitz had FRESHLY punched him in the face for making a crack about Phil Hartman post death (AFTER also enabling Hartman's wife's drug addiction), WHY would , even for the price of a nickle, you cast ANDY DICK for a dramatic death. Even before we knew he was somehow even worse, Andy Dick's whole existance was to be a punching bag. you hire him to annoy your audience and your characters. You CAN have a comedy characters death mean something and be truly gutting, take 24's death in venture bros or even among disney hooty getting turned into a puppet during owl house. But you have to make us care about that character on some level beyond being a joke no one takes seriously first. With Nuka.. he's just a dick who envied his brother and stupidly challenged Simba to a fight. And even as much of a dick as Simba is in this film, more on that in a moment, Simba STILL tried to just bat Nuka away. Simba, despite being ambushed, despite his hatred of the outsiders, despite everything you'd expect.. WENT EASY ON HIM. He didn't want to kill anyone. He only started getting serious when Nuka, somehow, proved to be an actual opponent and didn't even kill him on purpose. The idea of Simba being forced to that is good, but it just dosen't work when the character is nothing and had no personality other than "Pralines and Dick". Fuck em. And most good ideas end up like Kovu or Pralines and Andy Dick. Kiara is mostly wasted, mostly just wanting to bone her cousin and having a fairly sterotpicla disney princess arc, Rafiki is just there to push the main couple together, and Simba .. simba gets done kinda wrong. While the idea of him turning to his worst impulses over trauma is good, the film has so much going on instead he just comes off as a massive prick whose prejduiced, judges Kovu because he , in the context of the film HAPPENS to look like his arch enemy and isn't related to him, and treats his daughter like shit. Brodrick tries but there isn't enough depth given to Simba or anyone for this flim to work. The film just feels half assed...

It dosen't help despite not really giving the story time to breathe.. it also spends a LARGGGGEEE MEATY CHUNK of the storytelling on musical numbers. There's about as many as the original.. but I can barely recall them, with all just feeling like half hearted rehashes of the originals And unlike the original films songs which were all vital to the plot in some way (Circle of Life set the tone and theme of the film, I Just Cant' Wait To Be King fully sets up Simba's character for the first act and has him ditching Zazu, Be Prepared fleshes out Scar and sets up his big plan to kill Mufasa while also revealing at it's start that Scar was working with the Hyenas and by it's end reveals the Hyenas as a real threat, Hakuna Matata handles the time skip and sets up Simba for the third act, and Can You Feel the Love Tonight? has Simba and Nala begin their romance, which is key in getting him to go home. ). In contrast while these numbers COULD commuincate key stuff, they all go on so long they just pad out a film that REALLY didn't need padding, it needed a liver and some kidneys to help it function better.

The one thing the film does really well.. is the animation. Seriously while you can tell this isnj't a theatrical budget.. you can also tell the animators stretched every dime they had to make this LOOK theatrical grade. While some shots i've seen, or some sequels i've seen outright look like they were made cheaply, Lion King II looks damn good and worthy of the original. Despite all the challenges it'd bring the characters still look expressive, colorful with just that hint of real animal movements that made the original's animation so damn good. It may not look as good as the original but for what they had to work with it looks as close as they could possibly get and that's DAMN impressive.

So yeah overall this film isn't great. I wanted to like it I did: It sounded good.. but the final product , even acknowlding the struggles they likely had, is so padded and full of wasted potetial it just makes me sad. It's still probably one of the better Disney Sequels as it both had a reson to exist, good ideas and the animation is again fucking beautiful. But it sadly isn't as much as it could've been. Hopefully when I get to Lion Guard at some point, we'll see what a lion king followup truly could've been. For now.. we can only watch this and see someone almost but not quite make it. Maybe if disney wasn't treating these like disposable money factories this could've actually worked.

#the lion king #the lion king ii: simba's pride #kiara #kovu #simba #zazu #timon and pumbaa #neve campbell #matthew broderick #jason marsden #andy dick

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revothink · 1 year ago

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Hello dukhi aatmas, this is me, again. I was kind of immersed into something to give you guys an update about my life. Which is not an excuse, I admit. But, I do not care.

So, I watched Red, White and Royal Blue yesterday even though I should be studying 4 programming languages, Linear Algebra and Software Engineering but we are not talking about that rn. The movie healed something in me I didn't know was wounded.

There is a severe lack of queer movies and series which are simply just rom-coms. 95% of them just end up in death, tragedy and not the characters being together. The Heartstopper is one of the most heartwarming series out there for the queer folk. It is simple so sweet and beautiful.

Now back to Red, White and Royal Blue, the movie is the official adaptation of the book with the same title. The main characters are Alex Claremont-Diaz, the First Son of the US, and HRH Prince Henry, Prince of jolly old England. Alex Claremont-Diaz, played by Taylor Zakhar Perez) and the Prince of England (Henry, played by Nicholas Galitzine). The story shows how these two idiots go from enemies to friends to lovers and almost cause the Second War between England and the US.

The movie starts with the wedding of Henry's elder brother, Phillip and the £75,000 disaster. I will not spoil you guys but let's just say that from all the trouble that Alex gets into, this one takes the cake. Alex has to go back to England to do some damage control for the aforementioned disaster. During that process, he begins to see Henry in a different manner from the persona Henry shows to other people.

Henry is much more than the Prince of England's Hearts, he is an avid reader who goes on tangents about Lord Byron. He has named his dog after David Bowie, he watches Bake Off with the said dog and loves his sister, Bea.

Enough about His Royal Highness, the FSOTUS, Alex, is more than the charming heartthrob the media portrays him to be. He is someone whose feet are on the ground, and he wants to help the people of his country. He is a proud half-Mexican and full Texan. But the movie seems to forget to mention that Mexican heritage.

Alex wants to be a politician. He wants to help people and change the mindset of the stubborn Americans. He has a best friend, Nora, the granddaughter of the VP of the US, who admittedly should have had a bigger role in the movie.

The movie itself is fun to watch if you don't want a word to word enactment of the book. Some of the original dialogues are humourous and some of them downright adorable. The chemistry between the actors who was mind-blowing. They gave life to the beloved characters of Alex and Henry.

The movie cuts out a lot of characters and plot which makes Alex Claremont-Diaz what he is. They didn't show his love for politics, his elder sister June, his first boy crush, Liam, his step-father Leo who is very happily a Trophy Husband to the Madam President of the US.

They did not show Henry's mother who married an actor against the wishes of the Queen. They changed the Queen to a King. His mother was as absent as his dead father. They didn't give justice to Bea's character and Pez, Henry's millionaire philanthropist bestfriend.

However, they did show how Alex and Henry make history. They showed the beautiful iridescent love between them. They gave life to the love story of a bisexual First Son and a very much gay Prince of England. And for that, I love them.

After watching the movie, I read the book which I already owned. It was a birthday gift. The book is of course, better. It has 448 pages whereas the movie is not even two hours long. I ended up finishing the book in one-sitting. I started around 1 and finished at 3:15 am with water breaks in between. Do not judge me. I am a chaotic bi, okay?

Anyway, for today's song recommendation, this is a song which Alex and Henry danced to with forever in their mind and heart.

TLDR; a rant about RW&RB ♥️🤍💙

#Spotify #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rants

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funigami-games · 3 years ago

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A dream come true! The Prince's Heart is getting a Voice Over

When we started The Prince's Heart, we never thought we'd find so many wonderful persons willing to collaborate on our project. Here we are now, a month later, with an entire crew of professional and aspiring Voice Actors willing to help us realize our Visual Novel!

Special thanks to our amazing Casting Director, Jacob Wilson, who directed the whole Voice Over process.

Let's meet the entire cast (in order of appearance in the game)!

Nick Chang as Edward (Protagonist)

I was born in Manhattan, but raised in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, where I currently reside. I also proudly identify as a 2nd generation Asian American (half Hong Kong via my mother, half Taiwanese via my father) and a member of the LGBTQIA+ community (gay and demisexual). Since childhood, I have had a distinct love of music and performance. Having played violin from 4th to 12th grade and sung for even longer, I used music as a primary means to express myself growing up. As I progressed from high school to college, I discovered online voice acting, but it was not until my time in graduate school that I formally decided to become an actor. My interest initially stemmed from a desire to help out in localization projects, but over the time I have spent voice acting, I have come to not only develop a great appreciation of the craft of acting, but also further deepen my love of music and rekindle my love of performance. With my singing experience as a basis to my unique perspectives, I hope to bring sensitivity, curiosity, and innovation to every project I work on!

Jacob Wilson as Adam

I’m a voice actor, Casting and voice director based in Dallas Texas. I’ve been working in this field for almost four years Now. It’s a journey that has taken me literally around the world and I’m so thankful for all I’m able to do and have accomplished. Being a part of amazing projects like this one are what fuel me to pursue my passions. I realized I was bisexual when I was 18. It’s a group in the LGBT+ community that continues to get flak from seemingly all over. But my faith in it and myself has always been unshaken. Outside of VO I am a drag artist in the making under the name “Twilight Stunning”, who I’m going to show more properly in the coming months! I’m so thankful I’m in the position I am, and I can’t wait to see what we have in store for y’all!

Bradley Gareth as Michael (Main Character)

Bradley was raised in Western Pennsylvania, learning piano from age 5 and taking up local community theater at age 10. He pursued the performing arts throughout high school, consistently participating in high school musicals and chorus festivals during his tenure there. At the end of high school, he also took multiple classes in musical composition and began doing online voiceover work.

During his time in college, Bradley participated in numerous professional and amateur voiceover productions both online and at the University of Pittsburgh's student radio station, WPTS Radio. While at WPTS, Bradley also began writing advertisements and online content for websites.

Now out of school, Bradley continues to lend his voice to multiple productions, dabble in musical composition, and provide content writing for WrightlySo.com.

Jared Prize as David (Main Character)

Singing provides me with some of the greatest joy in life. Outside of that, I love voice acting, hiking, and hanging with friends. My day job involves working with computers, so I like to find a bit of an escape into the creative-realm during my free time. My sexuality has always been a struggle, but I find comfort in not putting a label on it (at least for now). Mostly, I am very excited to be a part of an ambition team of lovely people. Working within a project like this brings excitement during the process, and even more-so while waiting for the final piece! I hope you enjoy what's to come xo

Marisa Duran as Lady Marie

Hey there, I’m Marisa Duran. I’m an actress working and living in Dallas, Texas.

I caught the "theatre bug" at a young age. My parents will tell you that it started when I was two years-old, dancing around to the Barney theme song. I agree wholeheartedly.

I grew up in a suburb on the east side of Dallas and was fortunate to have the opportunity to explore a city known for its rich culture and artistic influence. My passion for theatre was fueled by the many musicals that toured through town and I quickly decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life as a professional actor.

In 2016 I graduated Magna Cum Laude from Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas with my Bachelor of Fine Arts in Theatre, emphasis in Acting. Since then, I’ve had the privilege of working with multiple professional theatre companies in the DFW area. I’ve also expanded my career into the worlds of film and voiceover, landing roles in short films, webseries, and commercials, and lending my voice to over a dozen anime titles at FUNimation.

Art has the power to heal, to change, and to empower. As an artist, I believe that my purpose on this earth is to tell stories, and through these stories I hope to make a positive impact and leave people better than I found them. I consider it an honor to be able to use my talents in such a profound way.

Whenever I’m not rehearsing or recording, you can usually find me at my day-time marketing job, playing video-games, or drinking coffee at a local coffeeshop.

Kiba Walker as Zachariah

Born Arthur Lee Walker III in Tacoma, Washington, Kiba Walker is an American actor, musician, director, writer, and performer based out of Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas.

Kiba trained under the likes of various industry professionals such as Shane Sparks, Donyelle Jones, Tony Oliver, Betty "Waters" Kennedy, Chuck Huber, Sonny Strait, Chris Rager, Justine Reyes, Lorette Spicer, Bill Quinby, Angie Irons, Dan Lorge, Holly Clark Lorge, Spencer Christian, and many others. With 16 years of collective industry knowledge, Kiba has performed with the likes of Alice Underground, The Stereo Killers, Frankly Fictitious, CRVSH, Grant Davis, Ashley Ann Farley, Steve "Warky" Nunez, BASH!, Ryland Lynch, Ross Lynch, Will Jay, and more.

Voice over came to Kiba in his later years, around the age of 18, when he found his love doing an ask blog for Tumblr. From there, he took the craft seriously and networked profusely with various actors and companies in the voice over realm. His first roles were as Boku Temagawa in "Love Games" and Mike Connelly in "Zoolaplex".

Since 2014, he's been cast in various other projects including MY HERO ACADEMIA, HORIMIYA, GENSHIN IMPACT, FRUITS BASKET, ONE PIECE, SAINT SEIYA (2019 Sentai Dub), BLACK CLOVER, BOFURI! I DON'T WANNA GET HURT SO I'LL MAX OUT MY DEFENSE, CAUTIOUS HERO: THE HERO IS OVERPOWERED BUT OVERLY CAUTIOUS, CASE FILE NO.221 KABUKICHO, CAMP BUDDY, FULL SERVICE, TO TRUST AN INCUBUS, TO LOVE RU, O MAIDENS IN YOUR SAVAGE SEASON, EARTHLOCK, POPUP DUNGEON, SOMETHING IN THE DARK, RADIANT, and many more!

He's also directed such titles as FULL SERVICE, IDUEL: BATTLE FOR STARDOM, ISHIDA & ASAKURA, THE TITAN'S BRIDE, and CAMP BUDDY.

As a musician now, Kiba currently has one album out, titled "XO", that released in May 2016. He runs a music channel called "KibaKovers", adapting anime and video game openings into English for a broader audience, as well as regular Top 40 covers. He is also one of the champions of the hit Fort Worth Drag Competition, The 3, as Salem Moon!

Mike Young as Sir Tiphis

Hello, I’m Mike Young. A dynamic, versatile and different British VP voice actor with gravitas, who can turn on various shades of Bristol, and run the spectrum of silky smooth, to warm and friendly.

Under the brilliant tutelage of Tanya Rich, my road to a professional voice acting career begin in 2018, having produced a wide variety of stories and audiobooks.

I lend my talent to a range of different projects:

Hard sell and soft sell commercial and corporate scripts

IVR for telephone systems and mobile apps

Instructional e-learning courses

Promotional adverts and trailers

Public service announcements

Character narration for video games, film, audio dramas and books

…and more!

I love it all, I do it all! And if you like what you hear, contact me! I’ll be sure to make your project gurt lush.

#visual novel #visual novels #yaoi #voiceactor

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foolgobi65 · 5 years ago

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yeh rishtaa kya kehlataa hain

@allegoriesinmediasres asked for: Rama/Sita, travel!AU, friends to lovers, “you confuse me”

as usual, this is completely unedited and thus is probably chock full of grammar errors, bad characterization, and terrible pacing. but! it was fun to write on my end so as always if u want me to rewrite it I’d be glad to lmaoo. it’s super super super cheesy at the end...like the whole third bit is just super cliche but w/e i love cliche romance its all good lol. anyways, i hope you like it at least a little!! thank you so much for the prompt <3 <3 <3

if you’d like to send me an au prompt from this list, please do!!

(title is from a lovely ar rahman song from the movie meenaxi, and also apparently a hindi soap, meaning “what is this relationship called?” )

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It’s been two weeks since the Raghuvanshi Group put out a notice that nearly brought the Indian manufacturing industry to its knees: Ramachandra, eldest son of Dasaratha Raghuvanshi and anointed heir since his very first breath, has been stripped of his VP positions within the company, his stock options, even his entrance card. The gossip blogs report that Ramachandra has lost access to the family accounts and family property, have posted pictures of the young man once posed to be the next titan of Indian Industry at a local branch of the Bank of India, handing over what is rumoured to be his great-grandfather’s watch as a starting sum so that he can get his own personal account.

Bharata, three years Rama’s junior, is still in the United States working on his MBA: he has not yet been told of his brother’s effective exile from the family, nor of his own subsequent ascension to the position of CEO-in-waiting. Twins Lakshmana and Shatrugana, five years younger, are in London having just begun their undergraduate degrees. It was interesting, people used to say, that of the brothers it was only Rama who stayed in India. Rama who attended every company party and toured factories, solemnly noting down worker complaints on the weekends he could spare from his studies, in all respects the near exact opposite of his father whose four children are the sons of three women.

Four days after the company announced its decision, Ramachandra disappeared from the public eye. It takes ten days, but Janaki eventually tracks down enough public and private conjecture to find him in a housing colony nearly an hour long ride from Ayodhya, the Raghuvanshi family home in the center of the city. The door opens, and Janaki greets the man who can only be Sumantra, Dasaratha’s long-loyal driver who had apparently left the same day as it’s once shining son.

“Hello!” she says, palms folded and motorcycle helmets dangling by their straps from her wrists, “I’m a friend of Ram. Is he at home?”

The door closes almost entirely. “Why would sir be found here,” Janaki hears from the gap, as Sumantra hooks the metal chain that would prevent her from barging in even if she was strong enough to shove aside a man nearly 50 pounds heavier than herself. “He is a very rich man’s son, and I am only a driver.”

Janaki frowns. “No one is ever ‘only’ anything Sumantra-ji, we all do some type of work in order to live, and not one of these jobs is better or worse than another.”

From behind the door, she hears the sharp exhalation that could almost be a snort from someone more given to expressing his own feelings. Janaki was right, then, Ramachandra Raghuvanshi who grew up on one of the most expensive properties in India has sought refuge in a home he could have bought on a moment’s whim only two weeks before. The chain rattles, and the door opens wide.

“Janaki Videha,” Rama says, and suddenly it is four years ago and Janaki is again a student politician stuck in a hospital bed after a bad encounter with the police, flipping through notes meticulously taken by a classmate who insists on anonymity but could only possibly be the lanky, nearly silent boy that everyone knows will one day be one of the richest men in India.

Normally, a person seeing an old acquaintance after a few years would speak their name, then utter some platitude about how long it has been since they last met and invite them inside to catch up. Rama, who is only capable of erudition in front of men his father wants him to impress, conveys the implication that all of these social niceties have been uttered without saying anything but her name. Janaki smiles, takes off her shoes, and walks in.

---

“What are you even doing here?”

Janaki raises an eyebrow, pouring a little more soap into the bucket they were offered to use for clothes washing. It has been a month since Janaki found Rama and told him that she was going on a trip, and that she needed male company to keep her safe. A month since she handed him one of her motorcycle helmets, helped him pack his single spare change of clothes and toothbrush, and directed him to sit behind her and hold on tight so that they might make it to another friend’s village by evening and have a place to spend the night. Together, they have followed the western coastline, trading off who drives when Janaki realizes that not only does Rama have a deft hand at the wheel, but in the proper circumstances can coax thrills out of her old bike that she hadn’t even thought possible.

“What do you mean,” she asks, grabbing his kurta top from the pile of clothes he has slowly gathered from the families he has inadvertently charmed over their travels. He’s standing off to the side, hanging their host family’s saris to dry in order of color, taking the pains to smooth each piece of fabric and making sure none of them touch. In exchange for doing the family’s laundry today, Janaki and Rama are allowed to do their own, an exchange of goods and services that has served them well so far.

“We both know what I mean,” she hears in response. “You’ve just been elected President of the University Student Union, your father is up for election this year, and even if neither of those things were important enough you must have research you should be doing instead of traveling the coastline with the penniless, disgraced son of an industrialist.” His voice is as matter of fact as it always seems to be with him, but Janaki feels an undercurrent of self-hatred at the core of his little speech. Still, she thinks with a faint flush, it’s nice to know that he has kept up with her just as closely as she had him -- though of course it was much easier to find information about Ramachandra Raghuvanshi, always in the papers at exact, two week intervals so as to prevent the creation of scandals to amuse the public with during a news drought.

“I’d call your father a capitalist if I was really embarrassed to be seen with you,” she says back, “and there is more to be ashamed of in becoming rich through exploitation than in being poor through no fault of your own.”

Janaki hands over his kurta, and watches him wring it out one more time with hands stronger than her own. He smiles slightly. “The revolution never stops, does it?”

“No,” she smiles in return. “Not with me, and not, I think, with you either.”

Rama looks away, walking back to the rope to hang up his shirt. “What do you know about me that makes you so confident?” He pursues his lips briefly. “We weren’t even friends, and still you’re here with me.”

Why are you here, Janaki hears go unspoken, why haven’t you abandoned me as well?

When Janaki arrived on campus all starry eyed at 17, she had taken the student body by storm. Blessed with a vibrant personality and the natural pull of a gravity well, she brought people into her orbit effortlessly, rising up the university party ranks within months rather than years of her peers. Academically, she was registered as an economics student, a category the papers said she shared with the Raghuvanshi heir who had created quite the stir when he took his place at an Indian University instead of going abroad. She had been doing quite well, she thought, until the exhaustion after her first collection drive in support of a local workers’ strike fund had caught up to her and she had slept through a full day’s worth of classes. Just when Janaki had been about to call up an acquaintance in their batch she thought might lend her notes, a folder had been slipped underneath her dorm door. Inside, a set of meticulous notes, and a 2 lakh check.

“Isn’t the factory a subsidiary of the Raghuvanshi group?” Janaki’s roommate asked, turning over the check as Janaki flipped through the notes. Thank you for your work, they said at the top. Please let me know if the workers need more.

“Yes,” she had said, “but we can’t tell anyone about this.” For four years she had kept his secret, waiting for his packages whenever she was detained, or ill, or beaten up and could not attend the day’s lectures. More than just a copy of the class outline, Rama’s notes were full of asides, connections, slips of paper clipped with outside citations when he saw something that could be countered, or expanded on. When the party canvassed for funds, her notes would arrive with another check, no demands made in exchange except a humble request to let him know if they ever needed more.

Janaki looks at Rama now, hair growing long to match his new beard. Ramachandra Raghuvanshi had always been clean shaven, hair short and neat and slightly parted to the side in a way every girl instinctively knew must have been how his mother told him would suit. Her eyes soften.

“You used to take notes for me,” she says, “Why?”

His lips turn down just slightly. “It helped me study, to transcribe them again.”

Janaki raises an eyebrow. She remembers that the notes had always focused especially on areas she was known to be weak in, but she lets his half-truth slide. She has a better arrow in her quiver.

“And the money?”

His eyes are trained to the ground. “It wasn’t my money.” Well, certainly the last six weeks have made that much clear. But Janaki did not remember Rama spending exorbitantly in school: his largest expenses seemed to be the checks he sent her.

“We weren’t friends,” Janaki agrees, “But I knew that you were a good man,” Janaki says, “even if you’ve had to hide it from your family your whole life.” She snorts. “And if we weren’t friends then, we certainly are now -- look, I’m washing your underwear right now, and if that isn’t friendship I don’t know what is!”

The joke isn’t really that funny, but suddenly Rama bursts into laughter, loud and deep in a way Janaki doesn’t think she’d ever heard from him in class, on campus, even in the videos posted by the gossip rags online.

“I’ve never had a friend before,” he finally says, and Janaki tries not to show her surprise or the way that makes her hurt on his behalf. “But I would be grateful to be yours.”

Another two months pass, Janaki and Rama journeying up and down and around the west coast. Slowly, Rama starts to gravitate towards the work that he seems suited to do in trade for the day’s food and shelter, and Janaki watches as he seems to blossom in front of her eyes. Every place they drive into, Janaki begins to ask around and invariably there is a person who, more than needing wood split or clothes washed, is in need of a good scribe to write, in English, the details of their grievance against someone with more power than them. Rama listens, and writes, and accompanies men and women to go see a lawyer, or their landlords, and stands behind them speaking in that perfect colonial era British Indian accent he says he picked up at boarding school, making even Janaki squirm when she hears it.

Janaki’s ideology does not allow for her to venerate colonial markers of class, so that squirm must be one of discomfort, rather than, well, --

It has been three months since Janaki and Rama set out on their travels, and time is running out for Janaki who really does have things she has to get back to: a student union to run, a doctorate to work towards, a father’s election campaign to help out with. But everytime Janaki thinks about waking up one morning without seeing him when she turns her head, the pit in her stomach grows larger and more snarled. She doesn’t know how it happened but somehow Rama has gone from acquaintance, to friend, to....to something Janaki can’t even describe beyond simply laying claim to the person at her side. He has become “her” Rama, even though she knows you can’t own a person -- yet Janaki is greedy, and when she watches the small smiles that their trip has coaxed out of his mouth, watches him bargain with their host so that she can eat her favorite vegetable at dinner, watches him finally fall asleep after talking to her for hours into the night and finally look like the youth he is, Janaki knows that she can’t bear to leave.

“Are you angry,” she asks one day, passing him the newspaper cone of roasted peanuts they’ve been trading between themselves while they sit on the sand of an empty beach. There is no need to clarify what he possibly could be angry about.

“No,” he says, taking the cone. “I obey my father’s will.”

From anyone else, Janaki would laugh, but she knows that he speaks the truth as he sees it. The Raghuvanshis raised the perfect scion, a boy right out of those terrible 90s Hindi films who saw their parents as God and venerated at the altar of increased profits. Yet, they chose to throw him like yesterday’s trash -- but no matter, because their loss is Janaki’s gain, and she knows him, knows what makes him happy and sad, and glad and mad.

She knows, for one, that he is angry and that he needs to acknowledge it before she can ask him to come back with her and start over.

“Yes,” she says, “you obeyed quite beautifully. That doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.”

“Don’t -- I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.”

She turns to look at him, jaw already clenched where usually it would take five times as long to get him to this state. He’s furious. Janaki’s heart aches in sympathy, longing to gather him up in her arms and tell him that it’s alright to be upset, that it would even be right to feel so, to kiss away the furrow in his beautiful brow and brush his curls behind his ear. But that would only make him close up, so instead --

“Don’t what?” she asks.

His entire body tightens, like a screw wound one turn too much. “I’m not upset,” he hisses, eyes flashing. “I’m fine!” Janaki brushes her hand over the one of his currently crushing the newspaper cone. As if burned, he lets go.

Sita sighs. “We don’t have to talk about it, but you’re clearly angry and it really isn’t healthy to keep it all in. There’s no one here at the beach, so I think you should just scream it out and try to move on with your life.” She’s not being entirely truthful, since she really does think he should talk about his family’s sudden and entire abandonment after years of encouraging near insane amounts of familial loyalty and emotional repression, but even this journey started out with a single step.

“You think I should... scream,” Rama says, eyebrow raised in perfect, aristocratic, condescension. Janaki nods.

“Just go out into the surf, scream at the top of your lungs for 20 seconds, and then we can leave no questions asked. I promise.”

“You won’t bring this up again,” he asks as if to confirm the terms of a business deal. Perhaps that’s what this is to him, finally back on familiar territory. Janaki shrugs, ignoring how her heart sinks to think of him seeing her care as nothing more than something to trade in order to keep away.

“For now.” At his frown, she shrugs again, allowing herself to smile a little. “If it looks like you’re struggling in the future, I’m definitely going to ask again.”

For a moment, Rama’s eyes widen in ...shock? Surprise? Was he not expecting for them to remain in each other’s lives? Janaki can’t allow herself to think too hard or long on the subject, especially since Rama has, without a word, risen and walked over to the surf.

He glances once over his shoulder, and Janaki waves in encouragement. He begins to scream.

20 seconds pass, and Janaki really does think he will stop and walk back, brushing off any questions and wandering back into the village they’ve decided to stay in this week. But then 30 pass, then a minute, and suddenly Rama is just screaming, knees falling into the waves and hands coming up to clutch and pull at his hair and Janaki is running as fast as she ever has to crash next to him in the wet sand. She shifts sideways, putting her body perpendicular to his so that her back is not to the waves but she can still look at his face -- he’s still screaming, doesn’t seem to have noticed her body next to his, tears streaming down his face. Janaki’s hands flail, but finally she realizes that she can only rely on the instincts that have led her the past few months to find him, to drag him on the back of her bike, to tell him to scream.

Janaki pulls Rama into her chest, her arms around him as she begins to weep along with him. Every time she tries to grasp the scale of the injustice done to him, she finds that her mind is too small. He was raised with every luxury, but with a conditional love that demanded a machine instead of a man. He’s stopped screaming, but has replaced it with gut wrenching sobs, hoarse from when his throat seems to have finally given out -- Janaki wonders when he last wept.

She loves him, she realizes, pressing an absent kiss into his hair. That’s what this feeling must be.

“You what?”

Oh, Janaki thinks, did I say that aloud?

“Ah,” she hears, “yes you did.” Rama raises his head, both of them still kneeling in the surf, tear tracks glistening down the cheeks he had just shaved at the request of an older lady who offered to house them if only he would look respectable. “Do you mean it?”

Janaki swallows, the pit in her stomach as large as it ever has been. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be -- she was supposed to convince him to come back with her, and then later talk about how she wants to kiss him silly.

“You want me to come back with you?” Oh for--

“Yes,” she says, confident that nothing she thinks now will remain within the privacy of her mind. “I want you to come back with me, and study to become a lawyer, and live with me as we try to make the world a better place.”

Rama’s eyes are wide, and Janaki wonders if she’s ever seen him look so fragile. He sputters.

“Fragile? I don’t look frag--”

Janaki laughs, bringing her hand up to cradle his cheek, right thumb brushing gently against his cheekbone. “Alright?”

Rama swallows, blinking his assent as if he suddenly can’t speak. A minute passes where the only sound is of the ocean waves crashing gently in front of them, water periodically flooding them up to their hips.

Rama clears his throat. “Do...” he takes a breath, “do you really think I could?”

“What,” Janaki asks, “become a lawyer?”

He nods. “Everything. I...” he looks away, and Janaki feels the beginning of euphoria. In his eyes there is fear, but not dread -- he wants what she wants, wants it bad. “My entire life I was trained to bring honor to our family name, to do that by making money and keeping my family members happy. I don’t--” Janaki’s thumb moves from his cheekbone to his lips, before he can say something idiotic like ‘I don’t know how to keep you happy.’ Rama laughs, eyes glistening with hopefully something other than tears.

“But I don’t know! Your needs are so different from the people I grew up with!”

Janaki leans forward until her forehead rests against his and their lips nearly touch. “I love you as you are,” she says, “the things I want, you’ve already given me.”

She can feel his brow crinkle, pressed as it is against hers. “I don’t own anything to give you!”

Janaki laughs: only the hideously rich could think so.

“I’m greedy,” she says, eyes closed as wave after wave of happiness floods her exponentially like the way the water of the high tide touches further and further parts of the land. “I want things that you’ve given no one else -- your grief, and joy, and triumph, and failure. I want to wake up with you, and go to sleep with you, and make breakfast with you, and dinner too. I want--”

Rama bridges the gap, and Janaki says no more. He gasps when they break apart, and a vicious part of her wants to ask if he’d kissed any of the high society women he’d been photographed with like that.

“No,” he laughs, and Janaki feels another thrill to see it. “It wouldn’t have been polite.” He leans back, bringing up his own hands to cup her entire head in his palms, lips curved in a wistful smile. “Everyday you confuse me.”

Janaki bites her lip when he doesn’t continue. “Do you like that?”

He shakes his head, and suddenly the pit comes roaring back. “I think I love it,” he says instead, smiling still. “I think I love you, Janaki.”

His smile widens, almost a full grin now. “My Jaan.”

#ramayana #maya writes #obviously this is just wish fulfillment #but he goes back with her becomes a lawyer #leaves behind the company #eventually probably reconciles with his family #definitely with his poor brothers stuck abroad who don't know wtf is happening #but he never goes back to running hte company esp when hes in love with communist sita #who gleefully talks about her 'class traitor' husband #he takes her last name when they marry eventually #oh i keep calling her sita on instinct instead of janaki #which is a change i made entirely based on how much nicer janaki videha rolled off the tongue than sita videha #its just a slight different but w/e #i still think sita is the prettier and better name tho #also...had to be janaki so that the nickname could be jaan #had to sneak that shit in ok its gold #but yeah he becomes a lawyer specializing in land rights cases vs the state #its all very sexy

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who-is-reign · 4 years ago

Text

Hello, hi, hey

Hi I did a short writing thing- here it is!!

Everything starts with a hello, a hi, a hey. A greeting of some kind. Ours started with something else. It started with a trip, a lot of apologies, and crying. Though I feel like I should probably start at the beginning. That makes more sense anyway.

It all started on what I knew was not going to be a normal day. The day started with two pieces of toast, 3 slices of peaches, and a mug of earl grey tea. Or what I was hoping to be a mug of earl grey tea. I poured the rest of what was left of my mug into a thermos and walked out the door.

3 stairs, take a left, 5 steps forward to the next stairwell. 10 steps down, 5 breathes, 2 stops I could have taken, 7 doors I could see. I ran to my car, even if it was only 5 feet away.

30 minutes and a coffee stop later, I was at work. I work at a publishing firm as the executive editor. I have been there since the start of this company, Indigo Query. I helped with the name of course. Most of the books that I edited are Best Sellers right now. I can’t say I’m not proud of that.

Today is the release date of the first book I wrote. I have babied this book for 4 years. All of the characters are complex and have their own stories. I tried to make it to where there weren’t any background characters. To where there were stories going on behind the scenes, or the main focus of the chapter. It is 1563 pages, 12 pt. Times New Roman font, 468900 words. This book is my literal child. I have had these characters since I was in 6th grade. I only started seriously writing out their story in the last 4 years.

I just realized that you know nothing about me. Maybe that’s for the best. You’ll find out later anyway.

I walked in, went through the cafe, up the elevator, through the small library. I was there, and my book was there. On my desk, I saw a hardcover copy of my book. I almost started crying. Okay, I did start crying. That art was my choice, it was made by one of my oldest friends. I carefully picked up the book, letting my hands run over the almost woven texture of the cover, the embellished sides, and the title. Lastly, my name, small in white coloring. I turned to the copyright page and breathed in. My name is listed as the author and editor. My best friend’s listed as the cover artist. This is what I was meant to do. Write books, edit books, publish books.

I put the book down, I couldn’t read it. Not yet. I needed to meet with Leo Adams, president of the company. He is not the original president, he took over after the old president passed. I personally am not a fan of his. I think he is corrupt and doesn’t deserve the company. The only thing I can hope is that one day this company, my home, will get a better president. The only reason I stayed with this company, is because of my book. I could leave if I wanted to, other publishing companies have asked if I wanted to sign for them.

But I have something in my eyes, something I can’t give up. I want to own Indigo Query. I want to own the thing I love more than anything. This company is my life, my livelihood. I hate seeing a man who doesn’t care about books be in charge of it. I need to save the company I have over a decade of time into. But right now, it is my time. My book is getting released.

I need to focus on that and nothing else. I need to work, that’s what I need to do. What I want doesn’t matter right now, and it won’t matter for a while.

I walked as fast as a caffeinated lesbian could without it being considered running to Leo’s office.

“Ms. Kore, it’s fantastic to see you. And of course congrats on the book release, it looks fantastic already.” Leo’s words drawled on, a slight curve to his phrases. I hated it.

“Of course sir, I couldn’t have had this book released without you,” I replied, trying desperately to keep the ill intent out of my voice.

What I didn’t say, was that of course, I couldn’t have had this book released without you. Even with you, there were so many issues with getting it released. Including the date getting pushed back 6 months. I could have had this book out, and sold by now. But no, he said it was too problematic. It took all of the editors, our cover designers, the VP of the company, and basically everyone to get him to allow it to be sold.

“Though Ms. Kore, I must tell you, I really do not think this book will thrive that much. I just do not want to see you getting hurt. Take the day off, you need to.” I almost scoffed once he said that, but I really only muttered thank you and walked out of the office.

I practically ran to one of my coworker’s desks and sighed completely and utterly overdramatically. This coworker has been my friend since high school and they helped found the company. They also know about my aspiration to own Indigo Query.

“Oliver, I can’t believe him. He literally said that he didn’t think my book would work out and that he just didn’t want me to get hurt.” I groaned and tried to not sound whiny, though I know I did.

“Babe, that is so horrid but also you are so close to literally owning this company. You are so close, and you can’t lose sight of what you have done because our boss is horrible.” I know they’re right, and I am really close, but I need a break.

“I’m leaving for the day, Adams said I had to.” I sighed.

“Girl you have been here for less than an hour, sit down.” Oliver raised their eyebrows and practically forced me to sit at my desk.

I just rolled my eyes and got to work on a new manuscript that came in today. It wasn’t long before my eyes felt like they were going to burst from my head.

“I’m taking a coffee and tea run. Want anything?” I closed the manuscript, my question aimed for Oliver who was holding a red pen and had a red pen tied up in their hair.

“Yes, yes, and yes please darling. You know my order anywhere.” And they were right, their order hasn’t changed since freshman year. Unlike everything else. Oliver used to be really shy, with red curly hair, they didn’t have confidence. And now they talk or flirt with everyone, have longer sunset ombre hair, and have more confidence. I’m proud of them.

I walked out of the building and to the nearest cafe. I ordered Oliver’s, which was a matcha latte with added raspberry syrup, apparently, it was amazing. Then I got a London fog earl grey tea with extra vanilla syrup.

I noticed the cafe had a small bookstore and I walked over there after ordering. I saw something that warmed my heart, my book. I inhaled deeply in shock, already a small bookstore had my book in it. I grabbed a copy and read through some of it. My words, my characters, my world. I get now why it is such a big deal for Oliver every time they see a book they wrote. I only walked away when I heard my name getting called. I grabbed both of the cups and walked away, saying thank you many times.

Close to the door, the not so impossible happened. Someone ran into me, my tea spilled everywhere. Oliver’s drink ended up being safe somehow.

“I am so sorry, I can’t believe myself, I’m so sorry. Deeply sorry. Let me help.” The person who ran into me sputtered out.

“Don’t be sorry it was an accident, it is okay,” I say looking at them softly.

They had hair a little bit longer than their shoulders, it was a coppery red. Their eyes were a shade of amber. That was when I realized.

“Laurette?” I asked, stunned that this may be her.

“Yeah? Do I know-- Persephone!” Laurette hugged me and sighed. “It’s fantastic to see you!”

“Good to see you too. What are you doing these days?”

“Oh! I’m living with Ophelia with our kid. I’m a fashion designer and she is a daycare owner. So she gets her share of kids every day. What about you?” as Ophelia spoke I could practically feel her love for her wife.

“That is fantastic! I’m the chief editor and now an author for a publishing company called Indigo Query. My first book got released today actually. I work with Oliver Evanora.” I was filled to the brim with pride.

“Really? Congrats! I bet the book is amazing! I’ll have to check it out sometime. Tell Oliver I said hi. ” Laurette sighed happily, “Well, it’s been great seeing you, I’m so sorry about the tea. I hope to bump into each other again.”

I smiled and went back up to the counter to grab the tea they remade, gave them a 10 dollar tip, and left. A newfound pleasure seeped through me. I walked back to the office, careful not to spill anything. I gave Oliver their drink and went straight back to work.

4 hours later and the clock showed 5 pm, the day that I had been waiting for years to happen was over. Since I needed desperately to get home, I made Oliver give me a ride home.

“Why didn’t you drive to work? You have a car.” Oliver asked when they were in their car.

“Because I wanted to walk.”

“It’s winter, it is dark at like 4. You can’t walk home when it’s dark. We live in a city, girl.”

I just sighed, they were right anyway. I didn’t think it through.

“Want to get food?” They asked, “Cause I am starving!”

“Nah, I’ve got to get home.”

“Ok girl, whatever you deem useful,” Oliver said, already pulling down my street.

“Thank you so much! Oh and by the way Laurette said hi.” I said as I shut the door.

I went inside and set water on to boil. I started stirring the water clockwise and humming a distant melody. It was almost time. The water started to bubble like an ancient potion that had just been given the final ingredient. I poured the water over a mug, grabbed a tea bag, and let it seep. At this point, the stars were already out and thriving.

After a quick 5 minutes, I grabbed my mug and walked outside into my backyard. I went directly to my shed. My shed was more of my office than a shed. It had a typewriter, my laptop, a shelf filled with different types of teas or coffee. Plants were scattered about, my desk had a big fluffy white chair pushed up to it. Everything was a pastel blue, pink, or white. It didn’t really seem like it was mine, but it was. And it’s more of a home to me than my room is.

I sighed as I sat down on my mug, put on gardening gloves, and grabbed my spade. I went outside and started to get to work. I planted a new rose bush, I replanted my lemon tree that's growing out of their pot. I moved my ever-growing cherry tree to where they’ll get better sun.

All of this I did while humming, or singing in some parts. I am the type of person to sing and talk to my plants. I am also the type of person to own 3 trees and more plants than I can count.

I heard a bang and I flinched, my entire body froze in place, as if any movement would cost me my life.

“Is anyone there?” I whispered, barely to where anyone could hear it.

“Hello, darling” When I heard Oliver’s voice I calmed down, “sorry to scare you babe, but you seem stressed. Thought I’d help.”

“It’s okay, Oli.” I sighed, already putting my spade and gloves away. “So, how did you plan to calm me down?”

“Stargazing with some people from high school,” Oliver replied, smiling.

“Like who?”

“Kira, Raven, Laurette, Ophelia, Lilith--” Oliver was about to continue but I cut them off.

“Okay, I get it, almost everyone. Let’s go.” I said, laughing, “Let me change first.”

Five minutes later I was in Oliver’s car wearing a star printed black layered lace dress and 4-inch heeled black boots.

“Let’s go! I wonder if they all brought their kids! Oh, I can’t wait to see Sabrina or even Litha! I miss my coven friends.” Oliver used to be in a coven at school, it broke up after our senior year.

“Where is the place we’re going anyway?” I asked, playing with my acrylics.

“It’s only 30 minutes away, a small little cabin. Though, we are staying for a week. I took all the clothes that are yours at my house, it’s enough for 7 days. Plus they all look great.”

“What about work?!”My yells could probably be heard by our high school friends.

“I got it covered babe, don’t worry,” Oliver said in a sing-song tone.

“Got it covered? Um, no. My book just got released, I need to be in town.”

“Honey, your book is already almost sold out at 3 stores. I only bought one copy. Your child will be fine.” Oliver sighed as he looked at me, “You need this. More than any of us do. So, I dragged you into the countryside to look at stars and hang out with people from our high school. Don’t you want to see everyone’s kids? I’m pretty sure Ophelia and Laurette are bringing theirs.”

“Okay, fine. I do need this, don’t I?” I pulled out my phone and breathed in.

‘I need this, I need a break. 7 days hanging out with old friends will give that to me.’ I thought as I mindlessly scrolled through twitter.

Then I came across this,

‘Jdjisddsj this book came out today! I already love it! #ScarletDreams #Persephonekore’

“Holy bees, Scarlet Dreams is trending in the literature section on twitter.”

“That’s fantastic, but we’re here.” I looked up and saw a cottage with wildflowers surrounding it, two beehives sitting among the flowers, a few kids running through fields.

We parked next to where a collection of other cars were. Immediately I was pulled into a hug by Ophelia and Laurette.

“I missed you!” Ophelia exclaimed as she pulled away, her child pulling at her sleeve.

“I missed you guys too, it’s fantastic to see you.”

Oliver looked at me, then to everyone and said: “Was I right? Did you need this?”.

I could practically see his fear of him making a mistake, a dark sludge crawling through him, pulling him down and towards his own Tartarus.

“Yeah Oli, I really did. Work was starting to hurt a little.”

A group of three people left the cabin, they were all holding hands and walking right next to each other.

“Oh, hello. I’m Cassandra. I don’t remember you from high school” She said her last sentence more like an inviting question than a statement.

“Hi, I’m Persephone, I didn’t really talk to many people other than who I knew so I can’t expect you to remember me.” I ended my statement with a small laugh, trying to match her tranquillity.

“Babe, you said there wouldn’t be that many people” The person who spoke was as far behind Cassandra and they could be while still holding her hand.

“I wanted you to come, plus I didn’t that many people would show up, darling.” Cassandra's voice was somehow softer than it was before, it seemed as soft as flower petals blooming out to show a beautiful rose.

Or rather the sun urging a rose to show it’s own beauty. Cassandra’s red hair had so much volume it seemed to live on its own, like a red fox laid over her shoulder. She was wearing a vintage lace dress that was white with roses on it, you could tell a petticoat was hiding beneath the layers of the dress from how it poofed out. Her cheeks were a rosy red, and her eyes had pink eyeshadow flowing out from them. Her eyeliner wings were sharp enough to stab, and honestly, I wanted her to stab me with them.

As soon as I realized what I was thinking I felt guilty, though I wasn’t sure why.

A voice snapped me out of my thoughts, “Hi, I’m Jade!” said the other person next to Cassandra.

Her hair was a really big fluffy black braid, purple threaded itself through the braid, and blue and green followed. The braid went to her lower back and was tied with what I thought was a gold string. A black mini dress hugged her sides. A light pink fluffy jacket was partially zipped and fell off her shoulders. The dress went to her lower thighs, then a few inches down my eyes trailed down to her light pink knee-high boots.

“Take a picture and it will last longer darling,” Jade said, the tone of her voice playful yet held enough flirtiness to send shivers up my spine and turn my face red.

“Darling, let's not immediately start to flirt with the new girl. Let’s not kill her on the first day here.” Cassandra spoke, her tone matching Jade’s.

The one who has stayed behind Cassandra the entire time stepped forward, appearing to gain confidence from my embarrassment.

“Why not? She may hold up longer than I did.” They said, their voice was soft yet firm. It held together like a cactus in heavy wind, trying to keep its grip. I felt like that’s the type of person they were, a cactus. Harsh on the outside with spikes and a few flowers to lure you in, but held water and healing on the inside.

I knew my face was painted a shade that countered everything around me and the dress that now seemed to hug me instead of flow around me. Like the petals of a tulip instead of an orchid. My heart sped up and I felt frail, yet held stable by these people who I had only met what seemed hours ago but what I knew was minutes, or even seconds that had just been drawn out to a century.

Then coughing erupted into my thoughts as Oliver shimmed their way in between me and the group, “Let’s go inside, I need warmth.”

“It’s not even cold” I sighed.

“Whatever,” They said as they already started towards the cottage.

As soon as people realized that Oliver had started to walk away, people hurried to follow them. That was Oliver for ya, they could sure direct a crowd.

#writing #writing save #I did a thing #please read this #it took so long #pleaseee #my writing #original characters #original writing #i did this with my brainnn

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wrrgod · 5 years ago

Text

( EMERAUDE TOUBIA. THIRTY. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ) in texas, SCARLETT JIMINEZ is more commonly known as SCAR. they’ve been living in newton for TWELVE YEARS and currently OWNER OF A TATTOO PARLOUR / HITWOMAN. some say they are MANIPULATIVE & RUTHLESS but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re RESOURCEFUL & DETERMINED. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear ARSONIST’S LULLABYE by HOZIER playing from their window. ( patience on 3%, well worn leather jackets, red lipstick stains, willing to fight the world, the sound of a tattoo gun. )

hello ! it is i, your local demon isabela with yet another demon character. scarlett is one of my oldest muses and i’ve tweaked her backstory up a bit to bring her to the group. as usual, hit me up for plots and all that good stuff.

PINTEREST BOARD !

NAME. scarlett amelia ramirez jiminez. NICKNAME. scar. AGE. thirty. GENDER. cis female. PRONOUNS. she/her. SEXUAL ORIENTATION. bisexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. biromantic. HOMETOWN. seattle, washington. OCCUPATION. owner of a tattoo parlour / hitwoman.

ZODIAC. aries. POSITIVE TRAITS. resourceful, determined, tenacious. NEGATIVE TRAITS. manipulative, aggressive, ruthless. TEMPERAMENT. choleric. LANGUAGES SPOKEN. english, spanish.

HEIGHT. 5′4 EYE COLOR. dark brown. HAIR COLOR. black. TATTOOS. displayed on her pinterest board.

QUICK INFO.

trigger warnings: murder, violence, mention of weapons ... isabela tw basically.

scarlett was born on a rainy night, in seattle, daughter of leyla khalil ramirez and no father in sight. as it were, it was more than fitting that she was born during a storm, as the years would pass and scarlett herself would prove to be a storm of a woman.

because her father wasn’t around, scarlett was raised solely by her mother. leyla was involved in the criminal life for as long as she could recall. growing up, scarlett was more or less involved in it. although her mother tried to keep her out of her business, she wasn’t naive; as such, from a young age she began teaching her how to fight, how to fire a gun, how to walk through a room without being noticed or alternatively, how to be the center of attention. initially, it was only as a means of self-defense. she wanted her to be ready should anything ( or anyone ) happen. but as time went on, the lessons also turned out to be a good outlet for scarlett’s anger. no one expected the petite girl to be able to hold her own, let alone take someone down, and being underestimated only fueled her. there was nothing more satisfying than seeing the look on their faces as she proved them wrong.

she always wondered about who her father was, or what had happened between her parents, why the hell he wasn’t by her mother’s side. whenever she brought up the subject, leyla told her that he had left to protect them. scarlett never bought it ... her mother did dangerous things, her life always threatened, yet she was still around. she’d always been around. for a while, scar thought it was her fault that her father left.

for the first few years of her life, she didn’t truly understand what it was that her mother did for a living or why she was so hellbent on teaching scarlett how to defend herself ( or how to conveniently get rid of someone ). while most of the girls her age were playing dress up and going to the mall, scarlett was learning the most effective ways to send a man thrice her size to the ground. leyla worked as a tattoo artist, but scar always knew there was more. something she wasn’t aware of, something she shouldn’t be aware of ... until the day came for her to find out. leyla was a hitwoman.

the news didn’t shock scarlett as much as it probably should have. she was only 16 when her mother told her the truth, but she’d already gone through so much training, seen and done so much by then, that she simply saw the world differently. and she knew it was only a matter of time until she followed in her mother’s footsteps.

however, it wasn’t until one of her last conversations with her mother that leyla told her the truth about her father. scarlett learned that she was the product of a one night stand, that her father was a gang member, that he didn’t know she existed. she got a name and a town: eduardo ‘eddie’ jiminez, newton.

that was one of her last conversations with her mother because her mother got killed during a job gone wrong. an eighteen year old scarlett sought to avenge her mother, finding the one who had dared to take from her the only love she’d ever known. it didn’t matter that they’d most likely killed leyla to protect their own life. once that was taken care of, she packed up her things and set off with one destination in mind: newton. her father may not have known about her, and maybe he wouldn’t want anything to do with her, but she needed to see it for herself. she needed to see him for herself.

when she arrived in newton, it was fairly easy to find eddie given his position as former VP and then president in the diablos. the man was skeptical at first, for obvious reasons, but he’d welcomed her anyway. scarlett offered the idea of a paternity test, not only for his benefit but also for her own. she had nothing to lose and she knew her mother had no reason to lie, not about this. with scientific evidence, there were no doubts left. she was his daughter.

since then, they’ve been trying to make up for lost time ─ which proves to be even harder than one would already expect, given scarlett’s nature. still, she decided she was going to stay in newton officially. she also decided to take on his last name, which was more of a power play than anything else. she knows how the towns work and she’s not afraid to take advantage of it.

she became the owner of a tattoo parlour, named diamond ink, fully taking on the job as a tattoo artist. she does, however, work a less orthodox job on the side. just like her mother was, scarlett is a hitwoman.

she’s very private in general, actually. doesn’t like sharing too much about herself, tends to be more reserved. usually, it takes a while of knowing someone until she feels comfortable enough to open up, even about the smallest things.

she has a bit of a temper and is always getting into fights, can be impulsive and often times, reckless. doesn’t have much regard for her safety.

too headstrong and stubborn for her own good.

5′4 but the heels she always has on rarely lets people realize it tbh.

can be very manipulative. it’s how she was raised and she took to the part perfectly. more often than not, she’ll play someone solely because she can, because she wants to, because she’s good at it.

not about that forgive and forget kind of life. resent and remember is more her pace. she’s incredibly loyal ( though it’s hard to pinpoint where exactly her loyalty lies ) if you earn her trust, willing to kill and die for those she cares about, but once you wrong her she’s out, showing her resentful and unforgiving traits.

her nickname isn’t scar just because it’s short for her name. it truly does fit her. scarlett is deadly and vicious, and when she doesn’t want to leave a corpse behind, she still leaves marks ─ in more ways than one.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

partners in crime ─ always getting in trouble together, whether it be in an illegal sense or not.

clients ─ people she has tattooed before ?? people who ask for her specifically ?? who knows. this one is pretty much always open.

employees ─ people who work at her tattoo shop, either as fellow tattoo artists or anything fitting !

drinking buddies ─ they may not be exactly close to one another or consider themselves friends, but they often get together for drinks and such.

friends with benefits / flings ─ they don’t actually have to be friends; could be just someone she goes to when she’s in the mood.

hateship ─ they can’t stand each other, and whenever they are together, they’re fighting… until they end up pressed against each other, bodies tangled together. that’s how it seems to always go. i’d love to plot this more in depth and work out the quirks and all.

unexpected friends ─ two people who no one ever thought would get along, let alone be friends, and yet they are.

ride or die ─ one of the very few people that she actually trusts, and it goes both ways. they are always there for each other, good or bad.

sibling figure ─ they’re not actually related, but they see each other as siblings.

one night stands ─ they hooked up once, maybe now it’s awkward, maybe it brought them closer, who knows ?? we can discuss details.

flirtationship ─ they enjoy the flirting, the chase and the back and forth that comes with it, but have never acted upon their attraction towards each other.

enemies ─ people are bound to hate each other, right ? give me that angst. we can discuss details.

frenemies ─ not exactly friends but not really enemies either. for whatever reason, they are somewhere in between.

good / bad influences ─ people that are a good influence on scar, that try to get her to be a better person generally speaking. it doesn’t really work, but for some reason they keep trying ! alternatively, someone who encourages her to keep up her ways.

anything and everything tbh

#rideintro.#( 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐙 ) / * about .

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buckyscrystalqueen · 6 years ago

Text

Star Crossed Rivalry: Part 7

Pairings: Opie x Reader (SOA/TWD MC AU Crossover ) Negan daughter!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, little bit of Angst

Word Count: 6,441

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Listen up, fuckers!” Negan called out as he got out of the van that had been used to transport the guys and girls to the ceremony so you wouldn’t call attention to it with a bunch of bikes (or ruin your outfits). “I’m fucking proud as fuck… to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Opie Winston!” The street erupted in an explosion of cheers and whistles as you and your husband walked around the front of the van with Hunter in his carseat in Opie’s hand. The cheers didn’t stop as he spun you around in your dress for the Saviors to see, giving you a fast look at the unbelievable party Frankie had managed to throw together in only a week.

“Jesus, look at this.” You said as you started with the green, blue, and pink streamer and balloon covered light poles to represent everyone in your family, and the same decorations on all the houses in the cul de sac.

There were at least a dozen tables covered with food and desserts under net food covers, and glass domes to keep any bugs that were still around in the early November weather away, and every inch of space between those tables had coolers, and ice buckets full of drinks of every kind. You recognized most of the silverware, cups, and plates as the ones from the diner, which made you nod your head at Frankie’s resourcefulness. On top of that, there were games for every age spread out on the front yards of peoples houses, as well as chairs, more tables that you knew came from the Sanctuary’s holiday stock pile, and the few fire pits the clubhouse had outside as well.

“I did my best.” Frankie said as she was walking past toward your dad’s house to find something to put dirty dishes in so they could get washed the next day at the diner by the prospects and the harlots. You reached out and grabbed her arm to address her for the first time as your dad’s old lady and not the harlot she was.

“Thank you.” You said earnestly as you let go of her arm. “I… we honestly, deeply appreciate what you’ve pulled together.” She smiled at you as if she had just won the lottery and nodded.

“I’d hug you, but I’m all sweaty.” She giggled as she wiped her forehead as if to make a point. “But I put that white bride sweatsuit you showed Maggie that you liked in case you get cold or wanna get out of that dress on your bed. I hope it’s the right one.”

“Thanks Frankie.” You repeated before your attention was called away to your guests. As you said hello to Carol and Ezekiel, you heard your dad’s deep chuckle behind you.

“Told you she’d warm up to you after a while.” You smirked to yourself, and shook your head as you realized that you were going to have to accept that after 13 years, your dad was moving on.

——

You figured that there was eventually going to be an issue between the Sons and the Saviors, but you honestly didn’t expect it to be because of what it was. You assumed that it would just be a slight pissing match between Chibs or Jax and either Simon or one of the many prospects in attendance… not because the VP overheard Romeo updating Negan about Clay’s demise directly in front of you.

“How are you still awake, Hunter?” You said as you rocked on the rocking chair you had had a prospect carry up to the street for you while you tried to get your son to fall asleep after his last feeding.

“Probably because of all the noise.” Aaron, one of the patches from the Hilltop said as he rocked beside you. You shook your head as you moved Hunter in your arms so you could lay him on your chest for a while.

“He never really seems to be affected by the noises around him.” You said as you rubbed your son’s back in a small, slow circle. “He slept through the Halloween party and the raid, no problem, and he sleeps right through movie night despite the fact that our surround sound is pretty loud.” You shook your head and looked over at Aaron with a smile. “He’s just stubborn like his mommy.”

“What?“ Jax said loudly directly in front of you as he turned away from his path toward you to see Hunter, and spun Negan around to face him. “The fuck did I just hear?” Your dad looked relatively unfazed as he shook his head.

“You need to hear me out…”

“The fuck I’m gunna hear you out!” Jax shouted as he yanked a gun from the back of his jeans. You moved before you though as at least twenty guns were drawn on both sides.

“No, stop!” You cried as you held Hunter to your chest and moved between Negan and Jax. “Stop!” You realized a moment to late exactly what you had just done when you were looking down the barrel of a glock, and you closed your eyes in sheer terror for yourself and your child.

“Put the fucking guns down!” Opie roared as he ran up your driveway with the blanket he had offered to grab for you for Hunter. There was a murmur of the repeated sentiment as Opie threw himself between you and Jax and pulled you forward against his back carefully, to not hurt his son. He sighed to catch his breath and shook his head at his best friend. “Can you just fucking listen? Two minutes before you react.”

“For you.” He growled with a death glare at Negan and Romeo. “Two minutes before I put a fucking bullet through his head.” You and Opie let out a sigh of relief as Jax turned toward your drive way and stormed off with Chibs right behind him. Your husband rounded on you with fear and rage in his eyes as he grabbed your upper arms.

“Are you outta your fucking mind?” He shouted. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” You said you said as you burst into tears and started to shake. He pulled you into his chest and held you and Hunter tight as his son started to cry from the shouting and tense feelings around him.

“OK, alright.” Opie breathed as he took a step back and kissed your forehead. “Don’t fucking do that shit again, you hear me? You run from the fucking guns. Not act like a fucking dumbass and run toward them.” You nodded your head and sniffled as he carefully took his son from you with a small smirk. “You’ve lost Hunter holding privileges for twenty minutes.” You let out a choked laugh and nodded your head as you pulled the blanket from his shoulder and helped wrap it around your son.

“Alright, shows over, people!” Frankie called out as she stepped around one of the food tables where she was making leftover dishes for you to store in your fridge so you wouldn’t need to cook. “We still got s’mores over here! And the champagne will go flat if it’s not finished!” You gave her a weak smile of thanks before Opie turned you around to go back to your house to oversee the conversation between the Sons and the Saviors in your living room.

“…didn’t have another fucking option.” Negan said to the three Sons as he set your laptop down on the coffee table in your living room and pulled up the video. “He had us fucking raided when we had fucking kids there.”

“They had the right to retaliate.” Opie said as he sat down on the chair and moved Hunter to his bent arm. “But they did it strategically.”

“Clay was the only one taken out.” Romeo said as he leaned against your fireplace.

“From what Ope said, he would be the only one to blame here.” You tried as the camera switched views from the raid to Clay pulling up to the Sanctuary’s driveway.

“Since he broke the fucking peace treaty we established, we felt he was to much of a fucking threat. My guy has already been handled.” He said as he gestured to Dwight on the screen, who you just realized you hadn't seen in a week.

“And I made sure to pull the three of you out first.” Opie said as he sat forward. “We had this all planned. Set you up to take the gavel…”

“Make the cartel take the hit of the murder.” Romeo chimed in.

“So we can all settle back into the damn treaty like you and I originally wanted.” Negan finished as Jax finally looked away from the screen.

“We didn’t want to cause problems with the Sons.” You said with a shake of your head as you sat down on the arm of the chair beside your husband. “But there was no other way. We couldn’t risk telling you over the phone and you being overheard…”

“Or any of you giving us away early out of spite.” Opie said as he looked pointedly at his dad. Piney rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before looking away.

“We have to keep the fucking Sons together.” Negan said as he leaned forward in his chair. “Both our fucking clubs depended on it. Because if we didn’t fucking go about it this way, we would have had to drop ATF right back on your fucking doorstep. And it would have turned into a fucking bloodbath.”

“So wha’ do we need ta do, now?” Chibs asked. You looked down at Ope, and over at Negan for an answer before Romeo took the lead.

“Now, you finish celebrating your friend’s marriage.” He said as he pointed at you and Opie. “Then, you’ll go home, and go back to what you all were doing since you don’t know fucking shit about this. The cartel only supplied the means for the hit. It was a favor to an associate. We have no qualms with the Sons, and we’d appreciate it if you could try to turn any retaliation away from us.”

“Same here.” Negan added with a slow nod. “I trust my new son-in-law. Wouldn’t let him marry my fucking daughter if I didn’t. I know he wouldn’t point a fucking finger at your former president if he wasn’t fucking positive it was just your fucking president.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know.” Jax said as he glanced over at Chibs, who also shook his head. “Tig probably did.”

“Ye think anyone else had their dicks in the dyke? I don’ think he’d’a gone ta Juicy, nor Bobby. ‘app’ would be more obvious ‘bout ‘is retribution ‘ad ‘e called ‘im in. Oth’a cha’ta’s knowing woulda come down the pipeline. ‘ad ta be just Clay an’ maybe Tig.” Chibs said quickly as he looked at his new president.

“Wait, what did he just say?” You asked in a loud whisper as you leaned down toward Ope with a confused look at the thick accent.

“You get used to it.” Piney said with a chuckle as he went over to raid your fridge for a beer.

“He basically agreed with Ope.” Jax translated with a nod as he looked back over at your dad. “No more. This shit ends here.”

“Consider the fucking treaty still intact.” He said with a nod as he stuck his hand out to the other president.

“Well alright then.” You said as they shook hands. “I’ve been dying for a s’more so since y’all are all caught up and have settled the pissing match, I vote you join me. Because I’m not breast feeding tonight and I also want another glass of champagne. So let’s go. Up, up, and out of my house. I’m the bride and I make the fucking rules here.”

“Yea, and you step in front of a mother fucking gun again, and you’ll be a dead mother fucking bride.” Negan said as he got up from his chair.

“She already got in trouble for it.” Opie said with a nod as he moved his yawning son to his chest. “She lost her Hunter holding privileges.”

“Which leaves me with two hands for champagne now.” You joked as you held open your front door for the men to leave. “So I still win.”

——

“I think they’re trying to tell us something.” You said with a small giggle as you opened up yet another set of bathing suits with the word ‘bride’ on the back of your bikini and the word ‘groom’ down the leg for the one for Opie before bed because the temptation was just too much to resist.

“Hawaii, maybe?” Opie suggested as he took the card from you to make a list for thank you cards.

“Some sort of beach.” You said as you pulled the last giant box toward you, and started ripping off the paper. “Maybe a water park or… what the fuck is this?” He looked up at you and his brow furrowed as your read the box label. “I already own suitcases…” Frankie, who had been trying to fit all your leftovers in your fridge, and freezer, glanced over her shoulder at you.

“That’s part of the gift from me and your dad.” She said as she fit the last container of a couple slices of your wedding cake in the fridge, and shut the door. “Don’t open it yet. It was supposed to go last.”

“It is last.” You said with a nod as you pointed to the pile of essentially just beach gear beside you.

“OK, let me go grab Negan. Give me a minute.” You nodded your head as the red head grabbed the full trash bag from the floor and quickly walked out the door.

“Do I have to like them together?” You asked as you turned to Opie.

“You kinda do.” He said as he started collecting the wrapping paper. “You have to accept them together because they accepted us together. Croweater or not, she’s now your dad’s old lady. So you have to accept them…”

“You didn’t say like.” You pointed out as you got up to grab the trash can for him.

“Quit.” He chuckled as your dad and Frankie walked back in.

“So what are the guesses?” Your dad asked as he held out a stack of three boxes roughly the size of your palm each, tied together with a ribbon.

“Hawaii.” Opie guessed as you took the stack of gifts. “Some kind of water park.”

“Maybe the beach somewhere.” You suggested.

“Close.” Your dad said as he sat down on the couch beside you. “Start from the smallest and work your way down.” You nodded your head as you pulled off the ribbon and set it on the table to add it to your holiday ribbon stash. The bottom two boxes got placed in your lap before you ripped off the wrapping paper and dropped it in the trash can.

“Really?” You asked as you pulled out a small stack of what looked like only hundred dollar bills. “I have money…”

“Next!” Negan interrupted as he leaned back in the chair with a smug smile. You rolled your eyes and passed Opie the money so he could add it to the growing pile of gifts. The paper came off even faster than the first as Negan and Frankie shared an unseen to you smile.

“OK, now you’re just being a fucking smart ass.” You said as you pulled out a sandwich size bag of quarters.

“Shut the fuck up and keep going.” Negan said as he gestured you on.

“I swear to God if the next box is a bag of mother fucking dimes, I’m whipping them at you.” You mumbled as you set the bag of quarters on the table so it wouldn’t break open. The final box was opened with a slight sigh and you froze as you looked at the contents. “Fuck off.” You said as you looked up at your dad. “You’re kidding.”

“What?” Opie asked as he got up off the floor to look as well.

“You’re sending us on a cruise?!” You exclaimed as you picked up the tickets.

“Not just any cruise.” Negan said with a smile, knowing he had just won the wedding gift lottery. “A fucking Disney cruise since you’re a closet Disney freak and all.”

“Not so closet in this house.” Opie said as he picked up the passports from the box as well.

“Since you’ve never been to Disney ‘cause I was a fucking shitty parent, I figured honeymoon cruise on a Disney ship was the best gift I could give you.”

“It’s in April?” You asked as you looked at the tickets.

“Hunter will be six months old.” Frankie said with a smile. “So he can go, too.”

“And just to pre-warn you so it’s not a fucking shock. Frankie and I are going too. Different fucking room, different fucking deck, different fucking everything. But that way, we can baby sit for you one or two of the nights so you can be newlyweds and shit.”

“Open the box.” Frankie said with a smile as she jumped a bit in her spot on the chair.

“Now this shit makes sense.” Opie said as he looked at the dozen or so bathing suits for both of you, the pirates costumes, the matching, nicer than the ones you have, beach towels, and the gifts cards for Babies-R-Us, Baby Gap, and Gymboree. He picked up the three gift cards and held them up as you pulled an extra large, wheeled duffle bag from the box with your dad’s help. “For clothes Hunter can’t fit into yet?”

“Toys, bottles, swim diapers… whatever you need. The whole club pitched in for that stuff.” Frankie said with a nod as you set the duffle on the floor and unzipped it. “They also put in money for the trip. Figured since you guys have already moved in together and have all the kitchen shit you need that helping get you guys ready for your honeymoon was a better gift.”

“Ope, look at this.” You said as you pulled out gift set after gift set from the top of the bag. “Medicine kit, bath set, hooded Disney towels…” You said with a shake of your head as you looked up at your dad. “You did all this?”

“Not my idea.” He said with a shake of his head. “That’s all Frankie.” You looked over at her and shook your head slowly.

“Why are you so nice to me after I’ve been such a bitch to you?” She shrugged her shoulders as she moved her long hair over her shoulder.

“Because I’ve been around long enough to know that you’re not the bitch you pretend to be. I also know that you are fiercely protective of your father. It didn’t matter that I used to be a harlot, it could have been anyone trying to date him, you wouldn’t have liked them. And I also knew that… well, essentially buying your love would be the best way to show you that I am serious about being in your dad’s life.”

“Fuck, I’m a shitty person.” You sighed.

“No you’re not.” She said with a chuckle. “You’re just protective. That’s all. It’s all water under the bridge.” You nodded your head as Opie pulled out what looked like a black tent bag. “Oh! That’s a travel pack n play. I left the receipt in there in case you don’t like the design. It’s got some frilly bullshit on the bottom but it’s a cute teal color. There’s a matching sheet set in there somewhere, too.” She said as she got up to kneel on the floor beside you and the bag.

“This is too much.” You said with a shake of your head. “Thank you. Thank you both. From both of us.” Frankie looked up at you with a smile as Negan reached over to squeeze your knee while Opie thanked them both as well.

“It’s not to damn much.” He said with a smile. “It’s what you deserve.” You nodded your head as Opie set up the pack and play behind you.

“Not to bad.” He said as he tilted the travel crib away from him to look at the ruffle around the bottom.

“It’s a lot fucking better than some of the ones there.” Negan said with a nod as he got up to grab a beer from your fridge, knowing that you were going to want to open every single gift set to look at them all.

“What is this?” You asked as you moved down to the floor as well and pulled on a small but heavy lunchbox looking thing.

“That’s cool.” Frankie said as she moved from kneeling to sitting on the ground beside you. “It’s a solar powered freezer I found at the Walmart that can get plugged in as well so you can freeze or keep cold bags of breast milk, and water, and baby food or whatever. I read the fridges on the ships are kinda shitty.”

“Well, fuck me.” You laughed as you opened the lid to look at it while Opie pulled out packages of baby food spoons, pacifiers, and teething rings and toys. “Remind me to go shopping with you more often. I didn’t even know this shit existed!”

“You’re more than welcome to join.” She said with a giant smile as she glanced back at Negan. “I love shopping.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who’s ready to go cruising?” You asked your son as you unbuckled his carseat from your truck in the Disney Cruise ship parking lot. “Are you ready?” You cooed, receiving a smile, and some babbling and limb waiving in return.

“Babe.” Opie said beside you as he locked the brakes of your stroller beside you. You nodded at him and turned to latch the carseat into place as Negan started piling your “half a fucking million” bags on the ground.

“How the fuck did you pack so much shit?” He asked as he tossed his medium size duffle and Opie’s similar sized duffle on the ground. You looked up at him with your eyebrow raised as you pulled your diaper bag out of the back seat floorboard, and stuck it in the bottom of the stroller.

“You’re gunna ask that of two women and a baby? Really?” You teased as you held your hand out for the handle of your suitcase.

“Passports and tickets.” Frankie said as she came around the back of the truck, and held out your paperwork for you to take instead.

“Did you remember to grab the…”

“Signature papers, and the family release forms for Hunter.” Frankie finished for you as she handed you the copies of the paperwork from her folder just in case the electronic ones didn't work.

“Let’s go, ladies.” Negan said as Opie came around to grab your suitcase, and the duffle of everything you needed for Hunter.

“Look out, hun.” Opie said with a slight yawn as he moved the diaper bag to your shoulder to put the heavy cooler in the bottom basket.

“Happy honeymoon.” You said to him with a smile as he stood up and locked your pick up.

“Happy honeymoon.” He chuckled as he bent down to give you a chaste kiss. “Happy first vacation, little man. You gunna get on the boat? Yea? We’re going on the boat, buddy!”

“Keep talking about it in the parking lot, and the fucker’s just gunna leave you here.” Negan said as he waited for you at the checked bag cart.

“Language.” Frankie hissed at him when he got a glare from the cast member stacking up suitcases.

“Please excuse my father.” You said as you stopped beside the cart with a small, apologetic smile. “We don’t let him leave the basement often.” The man looked nearly horrified as he took the last bag from Opie, who shook his head.

“Ignore both of them.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. We’re a sane family, I promise.”

“No, we’re not.” You and Frankie said simultaneously as you headed toward the crosswalk to go get yourselves checked in and on board. Your son was enthralled with every single color and noise around him; absolutely loving all the little peeks into the stroller, and the baby talk he was getting from everyone in the boarding area. He surprisingly didn't mind the picture with Mickey but he was not a fan of the metal grated ramp leading up to the boat.

“It’s too bumpy for him.” You responded over Hunter’s screams to Opie’s questioning look as you stopped the stroller to pick him up. “Say, tell Daddy you don’t like it.”

“You’re gunna effin’ spoil that baby.” Negan said over shoulder as he kept walking, only a little slower so you could catch up.

“Not your child.” You said as you put your son on your hip, and smiled at him. “See, all better. Yea, all better.”

“You think he’s going to have a problem with sea sickness?” Opie asked as he took the diaper bag off your shoulder and put it in the car seat.

“Well, I brought that sea sickness stuff for him.” You reminded him with a small shrug. “But let’s just pray for the best?” He nodded his head as you paused behind another family at the ship’s main doors. Your dad and Frankie went first, grabbing your phone for you so they could get a photo for you starting your honeymoon. You laughed a bit when Hunter startled at the announcer welcoming ‘the Winston family’ over the ship’s PA, and smiled at him when he laughed at the cast members clapping.

His adorable laugh continued as your group took the elevators up to the pool deck, thanks to your husband playing peek-a-boo with the two room keys hanging around his neck. You could see your father trying so hard to keep his hard, biker personality up but he couldn’t help but huff a laugh when your six foot four, big bad biker husband started making the most ridiculous noise just to keep his little boy laughing.

“Oh look! Perfect!” Frankie said as she pointed to a pair of deck chair half in the shade a little ways down the deck on the opposite side. “They’ll be more and more shaded by that thing as the day goes on.”

“You’re right. Go, go!” You said as you gave her a little push and walked quickly after her to snag the shaded chairs you had purposely picked an early boarding time to get. You were actually surprised you were able to grab such good lounge chairs, right at the end of the row, and close to the ‘Nemo’s Reef’ splash zone Hunter would be able to go in.

“Sunscreen for him before anything else.” Opie said as you sat down on the end seat with Hunter in your lap.

“Diaper bag.” When the bag was handed to you, you sat your son on the chair between your legs, and pulled off your sundress so you could start your summer tan in one of your many ‘bride’ bikini’s. The giant bottle of baby sunscreen came next as Opie pulled off the Disney shirt Hunter had on, and traded that one for a rash guard and a swim diaper.

“Give me one of your room cards.” Negan said as Ope started to slather on sunscreen, while you set up the changing pad. “I’ll put this shit up…”

“Dad, we can do it.” You said as you looked up at him. He shook his head as he dropped Frankie’s carryon bag from his shoulder on the stroller.

“You’re on your honeymoon, princess. Besides, I need a fucking beer, and a fucking smoke if I’m gunna make it through the next seven days.”

“Don’t sound so cheerful, baby.” Frankie giggled as she laid down on the chair beside you in a semi-revealing bathing suit that seriously toed the line of being decent.

“Smoking is one deck up.” You said as you pulled Hunter’s clean swim diaper into place, and tossed the dirty one in a grocery bag to throw out. “And I will love you forever and ever if you find me a drink menu on your way back.” You said as you looked up your dad with a smile.

“Brat.” He groaned as he kicked the brakes on your stroller and grabbed the key card from Opie and the trash bag from the floor. You yelled after him that you loved him too as Opie sat down on the chair at your feet and pulled off his shirt.

“Happy honeymoon, baby.” He said with a smile as he rubbed your ankle.

“Happy honeymoon.”

——

“And he’s out.” Opie chuckled not two seconds after he laid Hunter down in his travel crib. “Damn, kid. Mommy tuckered you out.”

“He’s not use to that kind of excitement.” You laughed as you started the long process of unpacking two suitcases of clothes, and the seemingly endless duffle of Hunter’s stuff. “Sun, pictures, the little water park. So much excitement for my little guy.”

“So much excitement for your big guy, too.” He said as he kicked off the flip flops you had forced him to buy and laid down on the bed. He groaned and rolled over on his stomach. “Fuck, this is perfect.”

“You could always help me unpack.” You said in a sing song voice as you carried all the bathroom products and the bathroom bags in the bathroom so they were out of the way. You barely heard Opie mumble something back as you unpacked the bags on the counter and by the time you stepped back into the room, Opie was passed out as well.

“Of course you’re asleep.” You sighed over his snoring as you shook your head. With a huff, you put the empty bathroom bags in your husband’s empty suitcase and pushed it under the bed with yours with your foot. You turned to finish unpacking Hunter’s stuff, when there was a soft knock on your door. You glanced over to make sure neither of your boys woke up before you tiptoed over to the door to answer it.

“Your dad fell asleep.” Frankie sighed.

“So did my husband.” You said as you stepped back into the room. “And my son.”

“Didn’t we drink more than both of them?” She asked softly as she stepped into your room so you could close the door.

“Yea, exactly.” You agreed as you pointed to the bag on the floor. “Help me then we’ll go up stairs for a smoke?” She nodded her head and walked over to give you a had. With both of you working, it was done in a matter of a couple minutes, so you grabbed your cigarettes, sunglasses, and your phone, whisper yelled to Ope that you were leaving (getting a muffled ‘k’ in response), and grabbed your room key from the light panel by the door on your way out.

“My dad really passed out?” You finally laughed as the two of you walked down the hall to the elevators. “He never takes naps.”

“Turned on the TV and was out in a second. But you gotta figure, both of them shared the ten hour drive to Port Canaveral, and we left at one AM to get here on time.” She pointed out as you stepped into the elevator. “We slept the whole way. They stayed up all night packing the truck, then spent the last three hours in the sun.”

“This is true.” You said with a nod as you stepped out on the twelfth floor, and headed toward the smoking area overlooking the pool. “So we let them sleep a while. We don’t have to be at dinner until 5:45.”

“More drinking time for us.” Frankie giggled as you both leaned against the rail, and lit a cigarette. You nodded slowly in agreement as you looked over the rail a ways in front of you at the Mickey pool below you with a small smile.

“Thank you.” You said with a glance over at your new-ish friend. “Thanks for talking him into this…”

“Oh, this wasn’t me.” She said with a shake of his head. “I suggested the beach somewhere. He’s the one that said Disney World.” You smarted a bit and turned to look at her as she took a drag of her cigarette. “Yea. His suggestion. But I knew sending you to Disney right after your wedding with a month old baby was a suicide trip. You wouldn’t have had fun, Hunter could have gotten sick being that young.” She shook her head as she ashed in one of the ashtrays on a nearby table.

“Not good. So we went with a combination of the two ideas. Disney plus the beach equals Disney cruise. We didn’t have a choice but to wait until Hunter was six months because we knew there was no way you would leave him for the first time for a week long over night trip, and he couldn’t get on the boat until he was six months old. So that meant baby on a cruise ship for a honeymoon. Not ideal but doable. But since our two year anniversary is in a few days…”

“Wait, two year?” You said as you tilted your head the slightest bit. “Not one?” A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips as she held out the ashtray out for you.

“Two.” She repeated as she looked down at the cigarette she was slowly putting out. “Negan didn’t want to tell you at first. Let you get used to the idea that we were sleeping together before he told you we were dating. He didn’t…” Her brow furrowed as she set the ashtray down for a moment and grabbed another cigarette from her pack. “We didn’t want you to think I was trying to replace your mother.”

“I don’t mean to be rude.” You said as you shrugged your shoulders. “But you could never replace her. It’s impossible. But you’re right. I wasn’t keen on the idea of my dad dating. For years I was his little girl. His one and only, and his pride and joy. I always thought him dating would make me secondary in his life. But I guess I couldn’t have been more wrong. That’s even more obvious now that you guys are celebrating two years. And I guess I needed Opie to see that… and I needed you to show me that it was possible for him to fall in love again and not turn his back on his daughter.” You sighed and looked away from her as tears welled in your eyes. “Has my dad told you about Kelly?” Frankie stayed quiet as she pulled out a chair of the table you were standing by, and sat down.

“I… umm…” She whispered as she curled into herself on the chair. “I found a letter… from your mom. He just said she was the biggest fucking mistake he ever made.” You nodded your head, and sat down at the table on your other side with a sigh.

“It was before my mom got sick.” You said softly as you lit another cigarette off the last. “She was a harlot. His road bitch is what my mom called her.” You shook your head as the memories came back to you since you had opened the flood gate doors. “For a whole year, he spent a whole lotta fucking time on the road. Mom and I, we were just… forgotten. Until his precious Lucille got sick. He had some kind of epiphany then. I just…” You shook your head as a few tears fell from your eyes and landed on your thighs.

“You thought he’d do the same thing again.” She said softly.

“I think I always will, you know?” You choked as you wiped at your tears angrily and looked over at her through your sunglasses. “That’s not something you just forget. I was only eleven.”

“It’s not an easy thing to forget, sweetheart.” She said as she reached out and gently laid her hand on your knee. “But I can promise you, at least from my part, I will never, ever let him turn his back on you.”

“I know.” You said as you nodded your head. “He knows better now. We went through a real rough patch for a few years and I even moved to Alexandria for a few months to live with Rick and Michonne. We both said some pretty shitty things to each other… until we both almost died. Run gone bad, I was in the cross fire, wrong place wrong time. My dad risked his life, and that fucker, Dwight saved us both.” You smirked and sat back in your chair with a sigh. “Guess I can be grateful that asshat wanted to be at the table so bad. Negan almost lost his daughter and I almost lost my dad.” You looked over at her with a half shrug. “He saved our family. And I can’t lose my daddy again.”

“You won’t.” Frankie said with a cocky smile. “As your possible future step-mother I won’t allow it.”

“Oh, God shut up!” You laughed as you pushed her shoulder, playfully before grabbing yet another cigarette. “But you don’t know that story.” You said around the butt as she lit another cigarette as well.

“What story?” She asked as she kicked her feet up over the side of the chair like she owned the place.

“Smart girl.” You said as you turned your chair enough to put your feet up on hers. “So, two years…?”

“Two very interesting years.” She chuckled with a nod as she flagged down a waiter that was sort of wandering aimlessly, looking for someone to help. “Two of those Pomegranate Passion champagne thingys, please.”

“It’s happy hour, miss.” He said as he took her room card. “Buy one get one free for the next fifteen minutes today.”

“Then by all means bring us each the happy hour special!” She cheered as she kicked her feet in joy. He nodded his head, and passed her back her room card with a smile.

“We’re gunna be in so much trouble.” You laughed as you ashed your cigarette in the ashtray.

“So worth it.” She said with a nod.

Part 8

#opie winston x reader #opie x reader #Star Crossed Rivalry #SOA/TWD Crossover

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gulgbtqplus · 6 years ago

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Meet the Committee 2019/20

We have 16 committee members who work together to run the society:

1. President: Maddy, She/her, [email protected]

Hi, my name's Maddy, I use she/her pronouns, and I'm the current president of gulgbtq+! I'm a third year medical student and I was the previous welfare officer. I spend most of my time hanging out with my rat, hiding in the library, and doing things with gulgbtq+. I'm a chatty gal and I love meeting new people, so feel free to scream with me about Troye Sivan/Hayley Kiyoko/Charli XCX anytime.

If you have any questions or ideas, hit me up! I'm very excited to be a part of the society this year and engage with all our members ❤

2. VP Secretary: Quinn, He/Him, [email protected]

Hi I'm Quinn and I am your secretary this year for GULGBTQ+. I am an economic and social history student who has been going to GULGBTQ+ events since my first moment in Glasgow. I enjoy poetry, comedy and films, and dogs, dogs are good. Can't wait to see you at events! If you ever want to message myself or the committee with any questions, suggestions or comments I can be reached at [email protected], see you soon!

3. Treasurer: Emily B, She/Her, [email protected]

Hi! I’m Emily, the new VP Treasurer! I’m 21, use she/her pronouns, and am proudly bisexual. I’m currently in 4th year, studying history (dissertation time, yikes!) I’ve been part of the society over the last year, and it’s been one of the best parts of my university experience. I’ve made new friends, increased my self-confidence, and had tons of good gay times! Outside of the society, I enjoy going to gigs, caring for my many houseplants, and taking too many naps. I’m excited for my role on committee this year, although you know what they say about gays and maths! I’m constantly on social media, so feel free to drop me a bell if you have any questions or queries! I’m on twitter @_emilybarton. Hope to see you at an event soon :-)

4. Welfare: Bianca, She/he, [email protected]

Hello! My name is Bianca and I'm the Welfare Officer of GULGBTQ+. I'm a small twenty-year-old Italian and I am a third year English Language & Linguistics and Theatre Studies student. I spend most of my free time reading, crying over Shakespeare, or bingeing the latest gay shows on Netflix, and the rare times I decide to go outside and try sports I enjoy horse riding and ice skating. I'm a gryffindor and I'm very excited to be back on committee this year, so feel free to drop me an e-mail for anything you might need!

5. Events: Emily T, She/Her, [email protected]

Hi everyone! My name's Emily (Tunstall) and this year I'm really excited to be the Events Coordinator for GULGBTQ+! I'm a second year Psychology Student and in my free time I like drawing, painting, making new friends, and spending time with this society. ❤

Please feel free to say hi to me online or in person, I will almost always be wearing my Docs and at least one badge, be it on my bag or my denim jacket, if you need help recognising me. I'm always open for a good chat, to offer some advice, or if you just need some directions around Uni! I would really love to see you at our events on a Wednesday, or at one of our coffees during the week. 🌈🌈🌈

6. Women’s: Claire, She/Her, [email protected]

Hi, I'm Claire, and I'm your women's officer! I'm a third year in Microbiology. Ask me about worms. Sometimes I think I'm not a stereotype but then I remember I have two cats, a Hozier-centric Spotify, and build furniture for a hobby.

I'm so excited for another great year! One of the things I love about this society is that it's an inclusive space for all women, and I want to make everyone feel welcome. If you have any comments, questions, or concerns (or just want to chat) feel free to shoot me a message!

8. Trans: Cassidy, They/Them, [email protected]

Hey, I'm Cassidy (they/them) the new Trans officer! I'm 20 and a third year studying Classics and History. I'm a nonbinary trans woman and I'm here to represent trans people and help people with gender related things generally 🙂

Aside from being gender, I am a roller skating gamer who makes stuffed toys and loves history more than life itself. I'm looking forward to running coffee and having a great year with everyone 🙂

9. Postgraduate and Mature Students: Kyle, He/Him, [email protected]

Hey, hi, hello! I’m Kyle, a postgraduate Astrophysics student who’ll be your first PostMat Officer for this year! Avid Karaoke Fan and Polo R&B Room Resident, I’ll usually be found out and about when I’m not studying (procrastinating). My aim for the time that I’m here is to try and get more LGBTQ+ Postgraduate and Mature students involved with GULGBTQ+.

I haven’t been in Glasgow for very long, so I’m excited to share the experience of things like Glasgow Pride with you all! I’m also hoping to run some smaller gatherings (like the current PostMat Coffees) over the summer for those of us who will need a break from our dissertations. If any PostMat students have ideas to share or any concerns to raise, please don’t be afraid to email.

10. Campaigns: Jo, They/He, [email protected]

Hi, I’m Jo and I’m your Campaigns Officer! I’m a postgraduate research student in English Language & Linguistics with a particular love for all things to do with LGBTQ+ linguistics. I’m a big fan of knitting, baking, indoor bouldering and playing D&D, and I’m also involved with the English Language & Linguistics Society. I was Campaigns Officer the year before last in 2017/2018, but I just couldn’t stay away, and now I’m back for some more campaigning!

As Campaigns Officer, my role is to raise awareness of LGBTQ+ issues in the society, on campus, and in the wider world. In the past, I’ve helped run campaigns to increase awareness of trans people on campus and to encourage local hairdressers and barbers to be inclusive of their LGBTQ+ customers. This year, I hope to revitalise these campaigns and work with our other officers and members of the society to create some exciting new ones!

Please feel free to contact me if you’d like to get involved in campaigning or have any ideas that you’d like to share with me!

11. Communications and Technology: Summer, They/Them, [email protected]

Hi, I’m Summer and I’m the Communications and Technology Officer for the year! I’m a 5th year computing science student (yes, that kind of transfem!) so you’ll frequently find me programming, tinkering with Linux or providing tech support for someone. When I’m not doing that I’ll probably be knitting, playing video games, running tabletop rpgs or watching martial arts movies (or talking about how I don't have time for any of the above)!

As the recently renamed Communications and Technology officer (formerly Publicity) I'm mostly here for you to tell me why the website or mailing list doesn't work, so feel free to get in touch with any complaints and/or constructive criticisms. I hope to have a great year with you all, hopefully with a better website!

12: First Year Ordinary Member: Jenny, She/Her, [email protected]

Hiya! I’m Jenny and I’m the interim first year representative on the GULGBTQ+ committee. I’m going into second year studying biomedical engineering and in my free time I enjoy drawing, making soup, and loving my gf. I met wonderful friends and made loads of good gay memories through the society in my first year and am excited to help as many freshers as possible join in on the fun this year! I’m passionate about creating a loving and accepting community for all LGBTQ+ students, especially new ones, since I know how hard it can be to settle in. If you’re a fresher and have any ideas, questions, or just want to make a new friend, please don’t hesitate to send me an email!

13: Bi/Pan: Valentine, They/ve, [email protected]

Hi I'm Niamh, you may recognise me as last year's nonbinary officer! I use they/them pronouns, I'm 20 and a 3rd year psychology student. This'll be my 3rd year in the society and I love it with my whole heart. If you have any issues feel free to email me or message me on Facebook (Niamh Conlan). My first and foremost want is for those coming to the society and bi events to feel comfortable and welcomed!

When I'm not being a disaster bisexual I'm dying my hair, applying clown makeup, dancing to new wave or doing kendo. I'm excited to meet you all and hope to have a great year with everyone!

14. International Students: Judith, She/they, [email protected]

Hi! I’m Judith, I’ve been described as “the lesbianest person I know” by my flatmate and if you ask me where I’m from, I’m likely to name three countries, so I guess it makes sense that I’d be your international officer. I’m a third year psychology and statistics student who likes to avoid studying by going swordfighting (yes, I own an actual sword, but don’t worry, I only use it against transphobes) or putting on facepaint before a metal gig. But don’t get the wrong impression, I’m actually a very quiet person who’s always there to listen or give you advice. Feel free to message me on Facebook (Judith AN), send me an email or just come talk to me during the international coffees I’ll be running!

15. Aromantic and Asexual: Lo, They/Them, [email protected]

Hello! I’m Leilo (they/them), 20, and happy to be the ace/aro officer! My job is to represent people who are (or are questioning if they are) on the spectrums of being aromantic or asexual, so feel free to email me! As ace/aro officer I host biweekly coffees so aros, aces, and those who are questioning, can come together.

I’m a second year Maths student but will probably add philosophy as my second main subject. Aside from sitting over Math problems for way longer than seems necessary, you will find me writing, working out, or philosophising about bdsm.

16: Non-binary: Robyn, They/Them, [email protected]

Salut! I’m Robyn and I’m the Non-Binary Officer. I’m a 2nd Year French/History student and I was born in Glasgow - I’m like a rare pokemon. I only resurrect during Eurovision season and have a hoard of sunglasses. And I’m a massive comic book nerd (yes I am Batman’s sidekick on the side).

I’m always down for a chat and feel free to DM me with anything from issues, to memes! I’m very excited to be your Non-Binary boi this year!!

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madrut16 · 6 years ago

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BB Rewrite Chapter 2 - The Vampire

Author’s Note: Hello guys! I’m back with chapter 2 which was both fun and a little sad for me to write. I’ve already started chapter 3 as well so, that should be out shortly too. After that, I’ll probably insert one or two additional chapters that are just my original writing in order to extend the timeline. I’m still figuring out how I want to structure everything/what I want to happen when.

Anyways, I also wanted to quickly thank all of the people who read chapter 1 and all of the notes. Be sure to comment if you want to be tagged in future installments. Also, this happened a few weeks ago but, I reached over 100 followers! Thank you for that, I haven’t been around that long but, thanks for letting me come here and have fun you guys. I love it here and I can’t wait to share more of my obsession over this book and the others.

Disclaimer: Characters and plotlines not created by me belong to Pixelberry Studios. I’m simply borrowing them and giving them my spin.

Summary: Isabel deals with finding out that her boss, Adrian Raines, is a vampire and attends a fashion show of the charismatic and dangerous Priya Lacroix.

Pairing: AdrianxMC

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"Oh my god!" Isabel screamed before she could stop herself. She stood in the office of Adrian Raines, late at night as he was crouched over his VP, Nicole. His eyes were glowing red and his fangs were dripping blood as he looked up at her.

Panicked, she tried to decide what to do next. She wanted to scream but, the small amount of reason she could still summon told her to say nothing. Unable to process the scene in front of her, she stood paralyzed in the doorway. Finally, her body caught up with her mind and she turned to run, terrified….but quicker than a flash of lightning, Adrian leaped off the desk and moved around her so she couldn't leave. Now it was just the three of them in there. Trapped.

"I...I...Please," Isabel managed to beg, her heart hammering in her chest. She backed away, terrified, as Adrian stepped forward. Then, another voice suddenly cut in.

With a scowl, Nicole yelled, "How dare you!"

Turning, she was stunned to see Nicole sit up and casually button up her blouse, a furious look on her face.

(She's alive?!)

"He was...You were…"

Adrian strolled back to the desk, taking a monogrammed handkerchief out of a drawer and handing it to Nicole.

"Thank you," the cold blonde said, before craning her head to the side with an expectant look.

With a smile, he told her, "My pleasure," before lightly pricking his own fingertip on one of his fangs. He pressed his finger to Nicole's neck...and the wound instantly healed.

(Whoa...)

Nicole calmly wiped at her neck with a handkerchief, then turned towards her glaring.

"Now then. Listen to me very clearly," she ordered. "You do not ever walk into Mr. Raines's office unannounced. Do you understand?"

Gulping, Isabel replied, "But he was…"

"Yes?" Adrian responded stepping toward her...eyes still glowing red.

"You're...you're…"

He finished the sentence for her. "A vampire."

Her mind was reeling. It was impossible. Inconceivable. Unreal. And yet, as Isabel replayed the day's events...somehow it made perfect sense.

"My god," she murmured. She noticed the red fading from his eyes, his fangs receding.

”I'll admit," he said thoughtfully. "I didn't think you'd find out quite so soon…"

(Wait he was planning on me knowing eventually?)

"So...explain how this works exactly?" she asked.

Grinning, Adrian answered, "Curious?"

Blinking, she replied honestly. "I'm just trying to understand what the hell I just saw."

"I'd be happy to explain," he told her, appearing more than willing to fill her in.

Nicole interjected. "With all due respect, Adrian, perhaps it's time to just take care of her."

"Wait," Isabel urged, alarm returning. "...you're not going to hurt me, are you?"

Meeting her scared gaze, Adrian reassured, "No, of course not. I'm not a monster."

Her fright began to slowly dissipate as she realized that he wasn't planning on killing her...at least for now.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she said, "Just...a vampire."

Her alarm quickly turned into fascination...maybe even a little excitement. Alyssa's conspiracy theory was true, although she would probably never be able to tell her that.

He shrugged. "I was feeding on Nicole. That is true. But it was completely consensual."

She glanced at Nicole who nodded. Wincing she asked, "And it doesn't hurt?"

"Define 'hurt'," the other woman replied before furrowing her brows. "Actually, on second thought, don't." She turned to Adrian. "Adrian we ought to debrief her. Now."

Isabel had no idea what that meant, but she assumed it wasn't good. "Wait, what does that…"

Adrian quieted them both. "I'll do it, Nicole. Don't worry. But there's no rush. We can talk this through. Seeing me like this must be quite a shock. Isabel deserves some time to process it."

Nicole nodded, but still glared at her. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Suddenly, Isabel remembered why she came back in the first place. "Oh! Right! I realized that the clerk gave me some mandrake extract to give Adrian, and I'd forgotten it and…it seems kind of irrelevant now."

Adrian shook his head with a smile. "Not at all. I'll find that most useful." He extended a hand, and she gave him the vial.

"Don't forget, Adrian," Nicole told him. "You've got your meeting with Priya in an hour."

He replied, "I'll take Isabel with me. You're not busy right now, are you, Isabel?"

Surprised, she inquired, "Now? Hang on, you've got another meeting tonight?" Adrian shrugged, the corner of his mouth almost smirking. Realization dawned on her quickly. "Right...vampire. Which makes you...nocturnal, I guess."

"So? Will you come with me? As my assistant?" he asked before adding with a grin. "Don't worry. I'll pay overtime."

She was planning on saying yes without the comment, but that definitely helped. Deciding to mess with him a little, she commented, "Oh...maybe there's another way to pay me back…"

Eyes going wide, he stammered, "I'm not sure...I mean, that would be…"

Her lips turned up into a smirk. "Relax, I was talking about stock options."

He exhaled sharply and visibly relax. Behind him, Nicole rolled her eyes.

"Subtlety's your strong suit I see," she quipped sarcastically.

Adrian told her, "I imagine we can work something like that out. Now...are you still interested in joining me for the meeting?"

Isabel was about to reply when Nicole stated firmly, "I would like it noted for the record that I think this is a spectacularly bad idea."

"Noted," he told her, amused. "I'll see you on Monday."

Isabel had to bite her tongue hard to keep from laughing.

"See you then," the blonde said. She slipped on her stiletto heels, picked up several folders from the desk and exited the room, giving her some serious side-eye. Isabel was momentarily annoyed as the door clicked shut, leaving her and Adrian alone.

He turned to her, a look of concern on his face. "Are you okay?"

She thought about it for a moment before replying, "Yeah. I think so." She turned away, taking a deep breath.

(This is, no joke, the wildest, scariest thing that's ever happened to me…)

But, yet now that she'd had some time to process it, she felt calm...oddly calm. And maybe even a little excited.

"I never lied to you," Adrian pointed out. "I just...omitted some things."

Raising her eyebrows, she countered, "I'd call 'being a vampire' a pretty big omission!"

To her surprise, he didn't deny it. "Let me remedy it," he conceded. "What can I tell you now that will ease your mind?"

"I...don't even know where to start. All I know about vampires is what I've seen in movies and TV," she responded. "Well, that and Alyssa, my friend. She's a big fan of those."

A little scoff slipped out as he commented, "That stuff isn't completely wrong. Depending on what you've been watching, that is." He added with a grin, "And before you ask...no, I don't sparkle."

(Wasn't going to.)

"So you're immortal?" she questioned.

He nodded. "Correct. I don't age."

"How old are you?"

After a moment he replied, "Well, let's see, I was born in 1753...I haven't done the math in a while, but...not quite three hundred yet." The number caused her to mouth to drop, though she suspected that wasn't even close to being the oldest. Seeing her expression, he chuckled, "Sounds pretty old when I put it that way."

Her mind spinning, Isabel told him, "I'm going to need a lot more details."

"I understand," he said. "Right now, though, we need to get over to Priya's studio."

Earlier, she knew the name had sounded familiar. Suddenly, she knew why. "Wait, Priya…? You mean fashion designer Priya Lacroix?"

"You know her work?"

It was her turn to scoff. "Are you kidding? Her studio is The Crimson Veil. Which is only the most famous downtown studio since Andy Warhol's Factory. Her shows are legendary!"

"Priya would be very delighted to hear you say that, given she's throwing a fashion show tonight," he told her. "But we must hurry."

Isabel grew excited, but then she hesitated. "Wait..."

"What?"

Looking down she answered, "This outfit isn't exactly Lacroix-worthy."

He took a moment to think before saying, "Priya sent over a shipment of her newest dresses earlier today for some of the senior staff. We might have one lying around."

He ducked into an adjacent office and comes back holding an Avant-garde, iridescent dress on a hanger.

"This was hanging on the back of the door. Do you want to wear it?" he asked.

Without much hesitation, she took the gown, quickly going to change into it. Coming back shortly, she was grinning from ear to ear.

(This looks amazing!)

Looking at her approvingly, Adrian complemented, "Impressive. That looks like it was custom made for you."

Sheepishly, she asked, "You think I can pull off a Lacroix?"

"I think you kill in it."

She glanced down, cheeks burning. Although she hated to admit it, Derek almost never spoke to her like that when they were dating.

"Ready to go?" Adrian inquired.

With a nod, she told him, "Yeah. Just keep me away from red wine. I don't think I could live with myself if I got a stain on a dress that costs more than my rent!"

Winking, he commented, "Don't worry, something tells me it is going to be more of a champagne sort of event."

For one second, Isabel felt the absurdity of the moment... accompanying a vampire out to a high-end fashion show...and she just shook her head and laughed.

However, she was too intrigued to turn back now.

Smiling, she threw the last bit of caution she had to the wind. "Let's do it."

Moments later, she and Adrian walked down the sidewalk, the twinkle and neon glow of New York City by night danced all around them. They passed couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing. It was a gorgeous night and everyone seemed to be starting the weekend in good spirits.

A little nervous, she asked, "So, I kind of have a lot more questions for you…"

She was scared that she was prying too much. But, he didn't seem to mind.

"Ask and you shall receive," he told her.

(Where do I start?)

After a minute she inquired, "Tell me...how many vampires are there?"

"In the world? I'm not sure. There are many places where my kind still has to hide our true nature," he answered.

(Okay…)

"How about in New York?" she asked, figuring that would be more manageable.

He answered almost immediately. "180."

Stunned, she stammered, "That's...a very precise number."

"It is."

She assumed from this that it was intentional.

Next, she wondered, "Tell me...Does sunlight hurt you?"

"Yes," he told her.

(Woah.)

"Oh wow…" she exclaimed. "So like one ray of light and poof?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly. I wouldn't turn to ash in an instant, but it's very painful and would be fatal within half an hour or so," he explained. "Think of it like a hypersensitivity...like accelerated heat stroke."

"The heavy curtains in your office suddenly make a lot of sense now," she said before asking excitedly, "Can you fly?"

He countered with a dry laugh, "No. And for the record, I cannot turn into a bat either."

Slightly disappointed she sighed, "Aw, really?"

"That's just an old wives' tale," he explained. "Based on the fact that we're nocturnal."

With a smile, she gushed, "Bats are awfully cute though."

"Oh, they're adorable," he said before commenting, "And often rabid."

Isabel raised her eyebrows. "Cool…?" Thinking for a second, she asked, "Are you super-strong?"

"Depends on your definition of 'super-strong'..." he answered, making her wonder if he was trying not to sound arrogant.

She prompted, "Like, could you lift a car?"

"Sure," he replied nonchalantly.

Amazed she marveled, "That's…my definition of super-strong."

"That would be a yes, then."

Finally, she inquired, "Okay, tell me...can you eat garlic?"

He shrugged. "It's a minor annoyance. More like a general distaste."

That was a shame because she happened to love it. A slow smile spread across her face. Slyly, she teased, "So if I told you I know this old school pizza place that has the best garlic rolls in the world…?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'd pass. Anything else?"

She thought about it for a minute. On a serious note, she inquired hesitantly, "Have...you ever killed anyone?"

Adrian was quiet for a moment, seemingly considering how to answer.

Isabel began to feel guilty. Afraid that she crossed a line, she mumbled, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

He interrupted her and admitted, "Yes. I have." He appeared sad, maybe even remorseful.

She stared at him in shock, although she kind of suspected it.

With a frown, he quickly added, "But not recently. I don't. Not anymore."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Up ahead, Isabel saw a huge crowd lined up outside a black door.

"This is it," Adrian told her hesitantly as if he wasn't sure where they stood.

However, after thinking about it, she couldn't really blame him about what happened in the past decades, maybe even a century ago. All that mattered to her was the present, and she could tell that now he was a different person. It also explained why he was so intent on helping people.

Eyes wide, she exclaimed, "The Crimson Veil... it's so crowded for a show that starts at midnight!"

"That's early for Priya…" he hinted.

Isabel picked up on it immediately. "Wait...is Priya...a vampire?"

He nodded. "She is."

"Holy…"

Adrian continued, "She is one of the six most powerful vampires in New York. She sits on The Council."

(Wait... what?!)

There was so much more to this than she thought. "What's 'The Council'?"

"There are six major vampire Clans in New York City," he explained. "Each is ruled by a single leader, with 29 followers. Priya is one of them."

Processing the information, her mind quickly started to make connections. "So 30 vampires per Clan...6 Clans...180 vampires," she surmised in fascination. Alyssa had mentioned something like that in one of her theories. Now, she wondered how her friend knew so much.

He gave a slight nod. "Precisely. The leaders of the Clans tend to be older vampires, vanguards in their fields," he described.

She caught on relatively fast. "Wow...so Kamilah...Lester...you?" she inquired, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes."

(Oh...my...God.)

All of this information was beginning to overwhelm her. "I think my brain is exploding.” Her voice came out sing-songy, which happened when she was frightened or excited.

"87 years ago, the six of us formed the Council, and agreed upon a Pact consisting of two principles," he told her, after a minute. "First, that vampires are only allowed to feed off of willing humans."

Isabel couldn't help smiling at that. "Consent. Very sexy."

He went on. "The second is that the creation of new vampires is strictly limited and subject to the approval of the Council."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

He answered, "To keep the peace, preserve the secrecy of our kind, and allow us to consolidate power behind the scenes."

Her eyes shimmering, Isabel commented, "Oh my God. That's... incredible."

"I suppose."

Grinning she told him, "You suppose that a secret council of vampires controlling New York City is incredible?"

This caused him to stop and think. "When you put it that way…" He laughed, and she couldn't help but laugh too. "The show should be starting soon. Shall we go inside?"

Looking at the enormous amount of people still waiting, she replied, "There's still, like...a massive line…"

"Not for us," he disclosed. "Follow me."

As they got closer, Isabel noticed that the waiting crowd is made up of some incredible-looking people. Club kids in outrageous outfits, fashion groupies, models that looked like they just stepped off the cover of Italian Vogue. At the door, a bouncer selectively let in a few guests at a time.

But, as she and Adrian tried to follow, he stepped right in front of her, blocking her way and glaring.

"Um...I'm with Adrian?" She told him, eyes wide.

Skeptical, the bouncer replied, "Oh really? Listen, lady. You look great. But I have no idea who the hell you are."

Starting to get annoyed, Isabel rolled her eyes. "I'm his assistant," she asserted.

Turning to the vampire, the man growled, "Mr. Raines, I'm sorry, but you know how Priya hates when people bring business associates to the club. It ruins the vibe."

"Who says she's just a business associate?" Adrian contests, seemingly unfazed. Isabel's eyebrows rose at him in surprise as he continued to bargain with the guard. "Life is never just black and white, Brandon."

She had to admit that he was could at making a compelling argument.

Wavering, the bouncer muttered, "... Whatever you say."

He shrugged before moving three inches to the side and he grudgingly tipped his head for her to pass. Adrian put his head on the upper part of the small of her back and gently guided her into the booming heart of the club.

They descended some stairs into a cavernous room that pulsed with music. A raised catwalk, glowing under bright white lights, extends through the middle of a packed crowd. The show was underway.

She paused on the stairs to look down at the scene, taking it all in. "Whoa..." she exclaimed with a smile.

"I hope I didn't go too far," he told her loudly over the music. "I just wanted to make sure that you got in."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't. I was just surprised. I know you're intentions were good," she reassured.

Otherworldly models strutted the runway in a rainbow of neon colors. Mesmerized, she raved, "The colors are incredible..."

Looking around, she gawked at all the famous faces she could see around the room. "Whoa, that girl's, like, the queen of Pictagram...and that guy's on the Knicks." Suddenly, she turned and asked, "Wait...are all these people, the models, the celebrities, vampires?"

Chuckling, Adrian answered, "Oh no, not at all. There are very few...out here."

"What do you mean 'out here'?" she wondered.

Vaguely, he replied, "Just watch. Enjoy." He gave her a gentle push forward, encouraging her to step closer to the runway.

(He's not going to tell me, is he?)

She barely noticed him leave her be as a hot, shirtless waiter approached, carrying a tray of champagne flutes.

"Champagne?" he asked, and she couldn't help but stare for a second before scolding herself.

Smiling she said, "Thank you."

"Hang on...didn't I just see you on the runway a few minutes ago?" the waiter asked in surprise.

Confused, Isabel stammered, "Me? No..."

Sheepishly, he apologized. "My bad. You just look like a model I guess. That's a great dress on you."

She bit her lip nervously. "Thanks!"

She sighed as the waiter moved away, and took a sip of champagne as she watched the show's finale.

After a few minutes, she strolled over to the bar for a refill, but as she did, she noticed something on the floor. A ripped fragment of paper, frayed at the edges. However, it seemed to glow as if it was calling out to her.

"Huh..." Isabel mumbled with curiosity. She knelt down and picked it up, and it felt charged, almost electric. "Whoa..."

As she took a look at it, she felt lightheaded. The world swayed and her knees quivered. "Hhhh..."

She slumped back against the bar, and a white light enveloped her as she felt herself somehow leave her body.

Suddenly she was transported to a cabin...old and rustic...the air stale and heavy. Sprawled in the middle of the floor was a man. He jolted awake, gasping for air.

"Hhhhhhh!" A young Adrian Raines exclaimed, dressed in a ripped colonial undershirt.

He sat bolt upright, eyes darting wildly around the cabin, his breath coming in uneven pants.

"Where am...why do I..." He wondered.

A figure emerged from the shadows, and reached out, placing a hand on Adrian's shoulder.

"I assume you have questions," the man asserted with a smooth but powerful voice.

Adrian winced and jerked away, rubbing at his temples with a frown.

The strange man, dressed in what appeared to be black Roman-like armor and a cape, continued, "My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."

With a frown, Adrian fretted, "W-what is...what is the matter with me? Everything is... I feel different. Like I am...like I am seeing the world for the first time."

"In a way, my friend, you are," the stranger told him before a slow, creepy smile spread across his face. "You have gone through a transformation."

"A transformation?"

The man nodded. "It left you rather incapacitated, so I took it upon myself to bring you back here."

"And who the devil are you?" Adrian inquired, a look of fright on his face.

With a grin, the man takes a step back. He waved his hand in front of himself and gave a showy bow. "Gaius Augustine. At your service," he announced.

"I am--" Adrian began before being interrupted.

With a scoff, Gaius replied, I know who you are, Adrian Raines."

He tore his gaze from Gaius to look around the cabin, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Panicked he asked, "Wait. Where...where are..." he broke off, eyes going wide as a memory hit him. He collapsed, his body shaking with sobs.

"Oh no... merciful God... How... How could this happen," he cried.

Gaius watched him, expression unreadable. He merely tilted his head slightly to the side. As Adrian's sobs dissipated, he sat up straighter and swallowed. He licked his lips and looked across the room.

He whimpered, "I...need something to drink."

With a knowing grin, Gaius replied, "More than you know."

Adrian got up and crossed the room in the blink of an eye. He stumbled straight into the kitchen table, which screeches against the wooden floor. He paused, paralyzed in shock and desperation.

He stared at the table, then shook his head. "I...I..." He snatched the pitcher and a cup from under the table and poured himself a glass of water.

Gaius commented, "Regretfully, I suspect that water will not suffice."

Adrian ignored Gaius and drank down the entire cup of water. When he was through, he scowled and poured himself another.

The mysterious man snickered, "What did I tell you?"

Adrian clenched his hand around the cup, and it shattered in his grip, water and ice cascading to the ground.

Gaius told him, "Careful now, friend. We would not want you to destroy any more valuables with that newfound strength of yours."

Adrian suddenly whirled on Gaius his eyes blazing with fury. "You...What have you done to me?"

Innocently the man answered, "Whatever are you talking about?"

"Something is wrong with me, and you seem to know all about it!" the young man fumed.

He shoved Gaius hard in the chest, but he merely chuckled, shaking his head. "So we are to resort to violence? You will have to try harder then."

"What have you done to me?!" Adrian demanded in agony. He took a swing, but Gaius's hand flew up and caught Adrian's fist. He squeezed it, holding Adrian there. "Hrrrk!" he yelped in pain.

"What I have done," the man boomed, "is save your life. I'd advise you to be grateful."

He shoved Adrian back and gestured at the torn fabric of his shirt, which showed a shallow cut across his stomach. The skin slowly knitted itself back together, until no sign of the injury remained, not even a scar.

"Witchcraft..." Adrian gasped, amazed.

Gaius snorted. "You should be thanking me, Adrian. I have saved your life, and gifted you immeasurable power. Power enough to live forever. Power enough to rule this world." He added with anger, "And power enough to get revenge on those who have wronged you, who have taken what you loved."

Adrian cradled his head in his hands. "Are you a demon, sir?" he asked in bewilderment.

Gaius laughed, taking a step closer even as Adrian shrank back. "Oh no, dear friend. I am no demon. I am something far greater, far more...remarkable."

Frightened, Adrian wondered, "What do you mean?"

He backed away when suddenly, there was a loud rustling coming from the woods outside, followed by the shouts of a young man.

Outside, he shouted, "Someone help! Please! I do not know how much farther I can go!"

With a frown, Adrian said, "That must be a soldier, injured in battle. We have to help him!"

He rushed out the door, while Gaius followed slowly behind, a bemused smirk on his face. Stepping out onto the porch, Adrian scanned the fog for the man.

The man, a British soldier, pleaded, "Please! Help me!"

Adrian started to rush over, and then abruptly stopped, his whole body tensing. Gaius stepped up behind him.

"What is the matter? I thought you were going to help him..." he asked him, tauntingly. "Or does the color of his uniform change your mind?"

"Please!" The soldier begged. "Is someone there?" The red of his uniform barely disguised the blood seeping out, darkening the fabric.

Adrian licked his lips and swallowed.

Observing, Gaius prompted, "You smell it, do you not? His blood?" He leaned in close, one hand on Adrian's shoulder, breath ghosting over his ear. "You need blood. It will sate the hunger inside you," he told him with a knowing, evil smile. "Kill him and drink."

Adrian's eyes widened. "No! No! I...cannot do that!"

"Why not?"

Frowning, Adrian started to protest, "Because..." he trailed off.

"Think of how easy it would be," Gaius encouraged. "He has yet to even see us. It would be all over in a second."

Shaking his head, Adrian argued, "I will not kill a defenseless man!"

Gaius merely shrugged. "He is already injured. I doubt he will survive a wound so grievous. You would be sparing him an agonizing death. A mercy, really."

"I said no."

"And what do you think he would do if the roles were reversed?" the man asked, growing impatient. "I think he would kill you without a second thought."

Adrian snapped. "Enough! I have given you my answer."

It was clear Gaius wasn't going to take it. "No one would miss him. Just another soldier lost in battle. Besides, this is what he deserves. After everything the British have done, everything they have taken from this country. From you."

The cracking of branches drew Adrian's attention back to the soldier who moved ever closer.

"Hello? Is someone home?"

Adrian took a deep breath and nearly doubled over, his entire body trembling. Gaius ran a soothing hand over his back.

"Why do you continue to resist? Even when it so clearly pains you to do so?" the man murmured.

Brows furrowed, Adrian answered, "Because I cannot live like that, as some kind of abomination! I would rather die."

"Suit yourself," Gaius sighed, plastering a look of sorrow on his face. "You can die as an...abomination. I will not stand in your way." He took a step back from Adrian, giving him space.

The young man stared at him, obviously conflicted. "...Or?" he wavered.

"Or...you can embrace this gift...and live as a god."

The soldier stumbled into the clearing around the cabin, now easily spotting the two men. "Please, sirs, I am hurt, I need--" His eyes flit between Gaius and Adrian, who still stand unmoving on the porch. He asked, "Are you with the rebels then?"

Scowling, Adrian replied, "Proudly."

The soldier let go of his wound, hand coming away sticky with blood, to grip his musket.

With a smug look, Gaius gloated, "It is as I said. If your positions were reversed..."

Adrian watched the soldier tensely. Their eyes met and the soldier raised his weapon. And before he could fire, Adrian was on top of him, closing the distance between them in an instant.

His eyes were red and two fangs suddenly appeared. "Hhhhh!"

The other man was stunned. "How--"

Adrian tackled the soldier, musket clattering to the ground beside them. The soldier struggled beneath him, easily overpowered.

"Get off of me, sir! Get off--"

"RAAAUUGH!" Adrian growled before leaning in and digging his fangs in the soldier's neck, piercing the skin.

"AHHHH!!!"

From the sidelines, Gaius hissed, "Yessssssss...." his eyes equally ablaze.

The soldier thrashed against Adrian, causing his fangs to rip the wound open further, blood gushing out. He latched onto the man's throat, drinking eagerly. Blood leaked out from between his lips as he swallowed again and again.

"Please!" the soldier wailed. "Let me go! Please!" He struck Adrian repeatedly, but the blows glanced off. His hits gradually grew weaker, until his arm fell to his side, his breath coming in shallow pants. "S-S... Stop... Please..." As Adrian continued to drink, the soldier stopped pleading, and eventually, fell still.

Adrian pulled away from the soldier's body, mouth stained with blood. Shocked, he stammered, "I...I..." He stood up and looked around the clearing, doing a full rotation. Finally, his eyes landed on Gaius. With a smile, he yelled, "This is incredible!"

It was as if he was a completely different person.

"At last," Gaius beamed. "You understand."

Amazed, the young man exclaimed, "I can see everything, in such sharp details! The bark on the trees...every blade of grass...I can hear the beating of a bird's heart...the rustling of the worms underfoot..."

"And how do you feel?"

"Strong," Adrian replied. "Stronger than I've ever felt." He looked down at his blood-stained hands, flexing his fingers. "I feel like a god."

Gaius stepped down from the porch and walked over to Adrian. He reached up and gently ran the back of his hand along Adrian's cheek. "Congratulations, my dearest Adrian...You have been reborn."

Suddenly everything turned white. All at once, Isabel was back in Priya's club, leaning against the bar. "Hhhh!" She looked around bewildered. Only a second had passed, and her head felt foggy like she was coming out of a dream. She could almost remember a few images...the woods...a man's face...some kind of painting? But it all faded, vanishing from her mind.

(Weird...)

As she shook off that feeling, Adrian appeared behind her.

"Listen," he told her. "I need to go speak with Priya immediately after the show. He gestured to a heavy red door at the far side of the hall.

Blinking, she asked, "What's in there?"

"It's...a private room," he explained.

"Like her office?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly. More like a private club within the club." Frowning, he added, "But it might be dangerous for you to come."

Suddenly it dawned on her. "Oh. That's what you meant when you said there were very few vampires out here..."

"Yes. It can get a little wild in the Red Room. Vampires acting on their...natural instincts," he told her. "I'll be back in a few minutes. There's plenty for you to see out here while you wait."

Isabel raised an eyebrow. "But, I'd like to go with you," she said quickly.

While it did frighten her a little, the intrigue she felt excited her more.

"Are you sure?" he asked her in shock.

With a smile, she replied, "No...but how can I not check it out? And if I'm going to be your assistant, it seems like I ought to go with you, right?"

After a moment of thought, Adrian conceded. "If you want. But stick close to me." As they approached the entrance, he suddenly paused. "And a word of warning. Priya can be charming and alluring...but she is incredibly dangerous," he cautioned, furrowing his brows at the last part.

Swallowing nervously, Isabel replied, "...Right."

A burly guard at the door gave Adrian the nod. He took her protectively by the hand as they passed into the back room.

Her jaw dropped in awe. "Huh...it's like a Vegas casino meets an opium den..."

"That's pretty much Priya's aesthetic," he commented in response.

As her eyes adjusted, she noticed something scandalous in every corner. Barely-clothed vampires lounged around, feeding off willing, equally unclothed humans. Muscular male go-go dancers undulated in cages.

"Whoa..." Isabel whispered, not wanting to draw too much attention.

(Damn. She could outdo Catherine the Great.)

"You okay?" Adrian asked.

Nodding enthusiastically, she replied with a smile, "I'm going to just take it all in!"

As he guided her through the room, she absorbed more of the scene. At the bar, a group of gorgeous vampires laughed delightedly, fangs bared, as the bartender served them flaming, neon-green drinks.

"Is that absinthe?" she wondered. She knew that it had a high alcohol content and that it was popular among artists and writers such as Picasso and James Joyce. Even though she knew people still drank it, she'd never seen it in person.

Adrian sighed, "It's trendy with the under-200s right now. So tiresome," clearly showing his disapproval.

Further down the bar were several humans hooked up to machines that looked like fancy IVs.

Eyes wide Isabel gawked, "Are they draining their blood?"

The answer was obvious but, the question tumbled out anyway.

"Yes," he said before explaining, "but only in small amounts. Like giving blood at the hospital."

"Why?"

"Some vampires prefer to separate the food from the person. It's considered 'more civilized'. Frankly, I think its an affectation," he answered.

She saw the bartender pour the blood into highball glasses and serve it to waiting vampires, who toasted with it.

"That...almost seems worse," she stammered.

To her surprise, he agreed. "My thoughts exactly."

Adrian led her to the back of the room, through some filmy red curtains, where finally she saw her...Priya herself, lounged on a luxurious, richly upholstered throne. She was surrounded by a cadre of shirtless, tattooed guards. A large cluster of admirers waited to speak to her, but the guards kept them back, allowing one or two at a time to approach her throne.

But when Priya spotted Adrian, her eyes lit up and a languid, cat-like smile spread across her face.

"Adrian!" she exclaimed. "My sweet darling, come here!"

The guards part and he stepped up onto the throne platform and kissed her on the cheek.

With a charismatic smile, he told raved, "What a fantastic show, Priya. You've truly outdone yourself with this collection."

Rolling her eyes she teased, "You're a liar, but I don't mind. Say more nice things about me!"

Her guards laughed, but Adrian remained serious. It was clear that he had an objective. Isabel watched in silent fascination.

"I know this is a night for celebrating, but there is some Council business that can't wait," he told Priya who promptly ignored him.

She looked past him and caught Isabel's eye. She smiled flirtatiously. "Don't bore me with Council business when you're hiding this delightful stranger!" she gushed to Adrian. "Who is she? Come, come!"

Priya beckoned Isabel up to the throne with a curl of a single, perfectly neon-painted fingernail. She stepped up and approached the vampire with caution, one eye on Adrian just in case. Priya was even more stunning up close.

Eyeing Isabel up and down, she extolled, "Oh, you look absolutely amazing in my dress. Just what I'd imagined."

"It's wonderful to meet you," Isabel said. "I loved your show." She made sure to remain alert for anything the fashion designer had up her sleeve, Adrian's warning still fresh in her mind. She extended a hand to shake Priya's, but instead, the woman reached up and stroked her face, peering questioningly into her eyes. Her hands were cold. Ice cold.

Isabel began to feel slightly uncomfortable, the sudden touch reminding her of what happened with Lester hours earlier. She glanced at Adrian nervously, not sure if he'd react the same this time. His narrowed eyes told her that he wasn’t amused.

"What a beautiful creature you brought me, Adrian," Priya continued. "She is for me, isn't she?"

(Oh no.)

Isabel's nervousness quickly turned to alarm and her eyes widened at him, silently begging him to do something. She figured if she said something, the outcome would be a lot different this time around.

Luckily, he quickly interjected. "No. She's with me," he announced, brows furrowed.

Priya brushed off his statement. "But surely she can be convinced to stay the night?" she pleaded. She continued to caress her cheek, looking deeply into her eyes.

(Um, no! This is really creepy.)

Isabel felt her anger return, simmering below the surface. However, she couldn't just erupt like she did earlier. She had to react more...delicately.

She reached up and took the woman's hand from her cheek. Calmly, she said, "Priya, thank you, but..." she stepped back cautiously. As she pulled away, she clasped her hand and shook it, making sure to keep a smile on her face. "Truly, it's an honor to meet you. But I don't want to interfere with your business with Adrian."

The designer scowled. "Now that's disappointing. And I hate being disappointed."

Isabel breathed a sigh of relief as Adrian cleared his throat, giving her a small look of approval before turning to Priya.

"I'm sorry, but this just can't wait," he urged. "As you know, we have a growing problem in the city, The Feral attacks are getting out of control."

Priya adorned a sad expression. "Yeah, yeah. It's a nuisance, but I'm not sure what you think I can do about it."

Adrian clearly wasn't buying it. "Don't play dumb, Priya," he scolded. "Someone on the Council is allowing unauthorized Turnings...If we don't get this under control, it'll blow up in all of our faces."

The younger vampire let out a huff. "I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm certainly not Turning anyone. I honor the Pact, and I hate Ferals. Have you looked at one lately? Disgusting." With a smile, she added. "I prefer the young humans anyway..."

Eyes lit up, she turned back to Isabel and reached her hand out, inviting her closer. Alarmed, Isabel shot Adrian another panicked look. Instinctively, she stepped back and her foot went off the edge of the throne platform, causing her to stumble backward.

"Whoa!" she yelped. She threw her hand out to steady herself on a bar table but she knocked over a glass, breaking it. "Ow!" she hissed angrily as a sharp pain shot through her hand.

She looked down to see that the glass had cut her hand. Blood flowed down her fingers and dripped on the ground. Her eyes widened in panic, knowing that this was the worst place for that to happen. The room goes totally silent except for the drip, drip, drip.

Every vampire's head swiveled towards her, almost in slow motion, intensely interested in the blood. Including Priya who licked her lips as her fangs extended. The entire room moved in, drawing closer.

Now, she was terrified. "Adrian!" she cried, her heart hammering in her chest.

He quickly moved close to her, protective, fierce. His fangs extended in a display of force to the other vampires. "Back off. Now," he growled. His back pressed against the front of her body. She could feel the heat and the strength radiating off of him.

Without thinking, she grabbed onto him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Adrian slowly turned his head from one side to the other, glaring out at the room. Slowly, everyone stepped back, defusing the tension. Priya let out an aggravated sigh.

Realizing that she was still holding onto him, Isabel quickly let go and stepped back as he turned his attention to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, worriedly. "Let me see..."

Still shaking from the adrenaline, she replied, "I-I think it's not too...too bad."

He looked at the cut on her hand, still slowly dripping blood. He put her hand gently up to his mouth and carefully licked the blood from her fingers. It tingled...intensely...an electric charge. "Oh, that's... Oh." Immediately, she reprimanded herself.

She tore her gaze away, trying not to think about it too much. Once her hand was cleaned of blood, Adrian took a bar towel and wrapped it around the cut. "Better?"

Looking back at him, she answered, "Yeah. Better." Her voice still wobbled from the fright she had felt.

"Let's go," he told her, nodding a curt goodbye to Priya. "We will revisit this issue," he argued.

"Ugh, whatever," she groaned. As Adrian led Isabel through the crowd to the door, Priya longingly watched her go, making her slightly annoyed.

Back in the club, Isabel made her way to the bar, catching her breath for the first time.

"How are you holding up?" he asked her.

With a shaky sigh, she replied, "That was...intense. Not bad, necessarily. Just...intense."

(Well minus the last part anyway. And Priya wanting to devour her.)

"All things considered? It could have gone much worse," he commented.

This caused her to raise an eyebrow. "What's...the deal with Priya?"

A dark look crossed Adrian's face, perhaps as he relieved a memory. "Priya is one of the youngest members on the Council. She was Turned just over 150 years ago."

"A real baby, huh?"

Adrian let out a scoff. "I know you're joking but...in the terms of our kind, more like a teenager. And it's a very dangerous age for a vampire to be." His expression darkened. "At that age...many of our kind do terrible things."

(Like...you?)

"Why?" she asked.

After a minute he explained, "You're old enough that you've experienced all of the things you could've wanted as a human. Old enough to have seen everyone you loved die. And yet you're just as powerful. Just as hungry."

"Right..." Isabel said. "Does she...kill people?"

"Officially? No. Per the Pact," Adrian answered. "But there are rumors. Rumors of what she gets up to in that manor of hers." His brows furrowed in anger. "Rumors...and a whole lot of missing persons."

She frowned. "Yikes."

"I think it's time we both left," he instructed.

She couldn't agree more. "Yeah. I think so too."

They stepped out of the club, out into the semi-deserted streets. The roads were shiny and wet, as though a flash storm moved through while they were inside the club. The city lights reflected back up at them. Isabel couldn't help but be calmed at the sight.

Smiling in disbelief she exclaimed, "I just can't believe it. I actually got to see Priya Lacroix's show. And she's a vampire. This all feels like...like a dream."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Adrian told her. "Sometimes I think I've been in this world so long, I've forgotten it's smaller pleasures." They walked together silently down a pathway into Central Park, the curvy road lit by old-fashioned lamps. "The sun will be up in a few hours. Do you remember what Nicole said about you needing to be 'debriefed'?"

The memory instantly came back to her. "Yeah..."

"Well, we still need to go do that, before dawn breaks," he told her.

She felt her stomach start to knot once more. "Um...and what is that exactly?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing that will hurt or harm you. It's just--"

He was interrupted by a terrified scream that rang out from up ahead. They both looked ahead to see a young woman lying on a park bench. Crouched over her is a thin, bald figure in tattered clothes, feeding on her. The woman shrieked and flailed, struggling under the figure.

(What the hell? I need to do something!)

"HEY!" Isabel barked impulsively. The figure froze. It swiveled its head around, blood dripped from its mouth. She finally saw its gaunt, pale face under the sickly light of the streetlamp. And then its red eyes looked right at her.

"HSsssSSSSssssSSSs...!"

(Oh no. That can’t be good.)

To be continued....

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#playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodbound #rewrite #adrian x mc

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littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years ago

Text

An Opera on Separation - Chapter 14

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | CH. 14 | Ch. 15 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 |

Summary: The police follows on Claire’s rape and Emily is called in for questioning. Is Nathan a suspect?

Rating: M - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Mention of rape. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Words: 1473

Notes: Remember when I said Beau was one sick little shit? Well, I made him sicker.

Enjoy.

Boring

Zack was still trying to calm Becca down with a cup of cold water when the telephone rung.

Emily and Zack changed a look, debating silently who’s going to answer it, and it ended up to be decided that she’d do it. “Hello?” She picked up the call.

“Good morning, miss. This is from Hartfeld Police Department.” The man’s voice says from over the phone. “Do I speak with Emily Harper?”

“Yes.” She said, wavering and wary. “How may I help you?”

“Miss, your presence has been required at the police station. It is about Miss Pierce’s rape.” He responds, using a grave voice.

Claire? She did not know anything about the girl. In fact, that news report this morning has been the first time she has heard the name in months.

“What about it?” The redhead asks, legitimately confused.

“The deputy has requested your testimony.” He responded, simple.

That was enlightening.

She breathed out, trying to keep her cool. “I’m not sure on what I can contribute, but of course. Is there an appointment that I am supposed to attend?”

“At your earliest convenience.” He said, and then added: “Preferably this morning.”

“Of course, I’m free. I’ll be there in an hour.” She nods.

“Thank you, Miss Harper. We’ll be expecting you; goodbye.” He said and finished the call.

Emily, then, placed the phone back on the hook and walked over back to the living room, where Becca was still altered and Zack seemed to be running haggard trying to control the impulsive blonde.

The ruckus died down as the two of them looked into the pale and struck face of Emily.

“Who was it?” Zack asks, concerned.

“It was the police.” She answered. “They want me to testify on Claire’s case.”

“What?!” The two other roommates shout in unison.

“What can you possibly know about Claire?” Zack says, in his usual over-the-top fashion. “If anyone here should be called into questioning, it would be Becca. They’re friends, after all.”

“Unless,” The blonde says, creepily calm. “Unless it isn’t about who knows the victim, rather than who knows the rapist.”

“You’re not saying…” He turned to her and stopped himself from saying what he meant.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She jumped to her feet. “It happened at Alpha Theta Mu, haven’t it?”

The young man tutted. “Nevertheless, there’s at least fifteen people living there, and none of them are… you know.”

“But Emily’s not close to either of them. Let’s face it, Nathan raped Claire.” The blonde picked up the redhead’s arm. “Come on, Emily! I’m going to the station with you!”

“Good morning, Miss Emily.” An investigator enters the dark and cold room she was sitting on. “I am Deputy McKenzie, head of police here in Hartfeld. Thank you for coming so promptly.”

“Of course, Mr. McKenzie, anything I can do to help.” She nods.

“Allow me to begin by saying that you’re not being accused of anything.” He says, with a soft smile. “I only have a few, commonplace questions. I would’ve gone to your house, but as this is a high-coverage case, I can’t leave the station without the Hartfeld Herald printing it on the front page.

“Speaking of which, I must ask that you refrain from giving declarations to the press. It could hinder my investigation.”

She returned the kindness of his smile and responded: “I won’t be talking to anyone about it.”

“Good.” He took out a recorder and pressed play. “Now, remember you’re giving your official statement. Try to give the most accurate descriptions of events you possibly can. No need to be nervous, but no detail is small enough.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Now, first things first, what is your full name, birth town and age?”

“I am Emily Louise Harper. I am twenty years old and I’m from Boston, Massachusetts.”

“Okay.” He writes down her name on a form. “First question, what’s your relation with Nathan Sterling, III, Beau Han and Kassidy Marquez?”

Her nerves hitched at the mention of the names. It seemed like Becca might be right about Nathan, after all. “Nathan’s my boyfriend. The other two are his friends.”

“Are you close to either of them?” He probes further.

“Not particularly.” She bobbed her head. “I mean, we’ve gone out as a group on occasion, but I never really talked at lenght to them one-on-one.”

“Very well.” He says and scribbles something. “Where were you on the night of Friday, September 16th last year?”

“September 16th?” The young woman repeats and thinks about it for a moment. “Oh, right! It was the last time I saw Claire. It was on that bar downtown, Belle Époque.”

He hummed. “Who were you with?”

Her eyes widened when she realized where he was going with it. “I was with Nathan, Beau and Kassidy.”

“I understand something happened that night, didn’t it?” He nudged her to talk.

“Yes, it did.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I was with Beau, picking up some drinks and bringing them back to the table. I was distracted. I bumped into Claire and spilled my drink on her.

“She got really mad about it and started calling me an Alpha Theta Mu’s charity case. Beau tried to defend me, but then she turned on him and said that he wasn’t much better, being a nouveau riche or something.

“He turned red in fury; it was really scary to see such a big man so angry. He raised his hand; it looked like he was ready to strike her on the face. But then, Nathan controlled him and we left the club in a hurry and I went home.”

He slipped a handkerchief over the table for her to dry her tears. “Thank you, Miss Harper, that would be all.”

When Emily was as put-together as she would be given the circumstances, she left the interrogation room to face her friends who were waiting outside.

What she hadn’t expected was a small commotion, centred around Becca, who was barely contained by a police officer. The redhead ran to the main atrium of the station, and she realized the person she was being contained from was Nathan himself.

The blond man sported a few scratches and torn clothes, probably from the girl’s attacks from before the police could intervene.

“You filthy rapist!” Becca shouted. “I’ll sever off your eye with the heel of my Louboutin, and so help me God!”

“Becca!” Emily runs over to her. “Becca! Nathan didn’t do it! He’s not a suspect!”

“Don’t defend him, Emily! He’s the scum!” She barks.

“Becca, listen to me!” She placed both hands on the face of the other woman and forced her to look deep into her eyes. “Nathan didn’t do it. Beau did. He raped Claire because she said he was not old money.”

Her struggle faded, and she whispers: “What?”

“It’s true.” Emily uses the same grief-stricken tone.

“That’s… that’s…” Tears brim the young blonde woman’s eyes. “Barbaric.”

“I know.” The redhead hugged her friend and tried to soothe her.

“Emily?” Nathan neared the pair, touching his girlfriend’s shoulder.

Becca glared at the young man. “What do you want?”

Emily tapped the girl’s shoulder, trying to contain her anger. She locked her eyes on him, dull as they are due to the circumstances. “Yes?”

“I need to talk to you.” He said, pleading silently. “About what’s happening.”

She looked over at Becca and considered the proposition. Finally, she nodded and followed the man to the water fountain, where they could talk.

“What has the police told you about Beau?” He asks.

She shook her head. “They told me nothing. They just asked me about that time we’ve been to Belle Époque and I pieced the rest together.”

The blond man sighs. “There’s more to it. You see, Emily, I wasn’t always Beau’s vice-president. I actually was the runner-up for ATM presidency.”

“I’m sorry, Nathan, but what that’s got to do with anything?” The girl interrupts, rather impatient.

“I’ll get there.” He responds. “I always thought it to be strange I lost, I was always more popular than Beau, I was very confident I would win. So, when he asked me to be his VP, I set myself to investigate why.

“The Alpha Theta Mu you know, that I knew, isn’t the real Alpha Theta Mu.” He swallowed the bile on his throat. “The most illustrious members of the fratority kept an underground club of thrill-seekers. Up until last year, they used to play pranks. Pranks that ranged from the stupid to the dangerous.

“But Beau had gotten bored with it. He enlisted the help of Kassidy and they started a… group. I don’t know what I can call that.”

“What they did?” Emily asks, shakily.

“They had a website…” He coughed. “They posted videos. Of the guys at that… circle… well, violating girls. I gathered enough material to imputate them as quickly as I could, but...” He took a calming breath. “It wasn’t fast enough for Claire.”

A silence befell them. Neither spoke, as them both measured the other’s reactions.

Finally, Nathan breaks it into saying: “I’m sorry. I’m just gonna... leave.”

She stops him with a touch to his arm. When he looks back into her eyes, they were shining with unshed tears.

Emily pulls him into a hug.

The world was far from being alright, but Emily thought she could count on Nathan to make it better.

<< Previous Chapter Next Chapter >>

An Opera on Separation - Masterlist

#an opera on separation #the junior #nathan sterling #becca davenport

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butmemostly · 7 years ago

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Girlsies Week Day 2: Modern Era | @girlsiesweek

The Newsies in high school participate in the National Student Walkout despite their principal’s wishes.

reblog & support me on ao3 if you enjoy!

• • •

The number of students that showed up to the walkout meeting was incredible. Miss Larkin, though technically not allowed to help them, allowed a band of students to use her classroom if they wanted to organize a student walkout. In all honesty, Katherine only expected it to be her and her close friends but was shocked when she entered the room to see nearly every seat filled. Kids from every grade level sat in the room, chatting amongst themselves. Katherine went and sat next to Sarah.

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” Katherine said, smiling. She dumped her bag on the floor and sat down.

“No problem,” Sarah replied. “How’s your speech going?” Katherine inhaled through her teeth, and Sarah laughed. “Not good?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Katherine waved her off, “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’ll be fine,” Sarah said.

Before Katherine could reply, Miss Larkin stood up and got everyone’s attention.

“Hello, children! My, what a lovely bunch we have here!” She grinned from ear to ear and scanned the room. “I see we’ve got Jack with us, and Davey, and Hannah, and – oh, and is that Romeo back there?” She laughed jovially. “And I see plenty of new faces, as well!” Her eyes swept over the room, taking in all the familiar and unfamiliar students she hosted. “Well, regardless of whether you know me or not, you all know Mr. Pulitzer’s stance on this event, don’t you?”

Many students nodded, some solemn, some angry. A couple of the rowdier kids shouted out insults.

“Well, this little meeting is between us, alright?” She said. She stared at them all, making sure they got the point stuck in their head. “This is a student-led organization – I’m not involved what-so-ev-er, I’m just letting you use my room. Got it?”

“Yes, Miss Larkin!”

“Alright. Why don’t we start by throwing around ideas?”

The kids in the room all began to share their vision for the walkout. Miss Larkin let Hannah use her desktop to list out the ideas on a document, which was then shared with all the other kids. Ideas were thrown left and right, and It was clear in their eyes that they were passionate, that they were willing to face any punishment they were threatened with.

At some point, they got on the topic of guest speakers. Miss Larkin asked if anyone was interested in speaking, and Katherine slowly raised her hand.

“Ah, Miss Katherine!” Miss Larkin clapped her hands together. “You would like to speak?”

“Yes ma’am,” Katherine replied. “I have a rough draft, actually, would you like me to read it?”

“Of course!” She said. She gestured in a go right ahead motion, and Katherine opened up her notebook to her speech. Katherine took a deep breath, then began to read. The room was quiet, listening to her words forged out of anger and impatience. The speech was short, only a few paragraphs, and she finished before she knew it. The classroom applauded, some giving various shouts of approval.

Katherine smiled, very modest, and thanked the room. Sarah gave her a bump on the shoulder that translated to good job! As the others gave suggestions for her speech, she wrote them down in her notebook and bounced back ideas off of the suggestions. It worked rather well, and by the time they were done, Katherine had a plethora of things to add to her draft.

The next meeting was exactly a week later. Katherine, Sarah, and Hannah met up as soon as they were dismissed and walked to the drama room together. There weren’t as many kids this time – all the less passionate ones had been weeded out. Now they were left with mostly the theatre kids, SGA kids, chorus kids, yearbook kids, and some others; all fired up and ready to take on the world.

Once the meeting started, the students began to narrow down all their ideas, and focus on which they wanted to do and how it was going to be done. Ideas were still all over the place, but they were getting there.

Katherine began to take charge. She stood up and read a revised version of her speech, and listened to any remaining suggestions her peers had to offer. Then, as they continued along, she gave suggestions on what to change and how to organize things. She started a big group chat with all of them in it, and then they could plan even when they weren’t in a meeting.

Everyone spread the word on social media: Walkout on March 14th, 10:00 am at the front gate. They told their friends and posted it on Snapchat, Instagram, and Twitter. If they wanted to prove to Mr. Pulitzer that they mean business, they needed as many kids on board as possible.

The next meeting was on the Friday before the walkout. The meeting began as usual, and the group started to form a schedule for the walkout. Sarah stood at the whiteboard, listing off the events: introduction, 3 minutes; honoring the victims followed by a moment of silence, 3 minutes; Katherine’s speech, 5 minutes; chanting, 6 minutes. Jack, a theatre techie, planned on getting a mic and speaker to hook up beforehand – and, as the Junior Class President, was willing to present the introductory speech at the start of the walkout (written by Davey, the Junior Class VP, of course). Katherine told all her friends in yearbook to be there with their cameras, and Sarah helped Katherine finish her speech. They were getting everything figured out and ready for Wednesday.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

The kids didn’t bother at first, assuming it was just Miss Larkin coming back from the restroom, but then a deep voice boomed across the room.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Everyone froze. There in the doorway stood the principal, Mr. Pulitzer.

He stepped slowly into the room, taking a good look at each student. Everyone stood silently, brewing in their anger, hatred, and fear – it radiated off their bodies like heat, changing the very atmosphere of the room. Mr. Pulitzer either didn’t notice it or didn’t care (probably the latter). He put one hand on his hip and leaned the other against a desk, with a very menacing smile plastered on his face.

After a horrible, horrible moment of silence, he finally spoke. “I told you all that events of these kinds will not be permitted at this school,” he said. His eyes swept over the room, looking at each student to make sure his point was clear. “Unless you children want to be suspended, I suggest you disband this at once.”

“How’d you find out?”

Everyone turned towards the voice – Sarah Jacobs. She stood tall, making fierce eye contact with the principal.

Mr. Pulitzer smiled as if he expected the question to arise (he did, of course). “You kids and your social media,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “You think that an old man like me doesn’t know how your brains work? Our deans have their eyes all over your profiles – your Snapchats, your Tweets, everything.”

Their eyes widened, and the silence continued. All their hearts beat collectively; a quick, pounding sound in their ears.

“You can’t stop us now,” Jack said, “Word’s already out.”

“Oh, no, I can’t stop you,” Mr. Pulitzer said, “But you can.”

The kids blinked at him questioningly. He cleared his throat and continued.

“You kids go back onto your Snapchats, and your Instagrams,” he said, “and tell all your friends that the walkout is off.”

"Yeah, and what if we don’t?”

“Then your colleges will see a three-day suspension for insubordination on your permanent record.”

No one said anything to this. Any remaining fear in the room had long since burned into hatred. Mr. Pulitzer seemed quite satisfied with the looks on their faces.

Jack took a step forward, full of rage. “You can’t just be quiet about this! Kids are dying in schools, a place where we come to learn! That just ain’t right! You’re trying to silence us for wanting the right to be safe?”

“I will not allow this school to become involved in this political scheme!” Pulitzer yelled. Everyone flinched. “We are tightening security, we are doing monthly searches, we are doing active shooter drills. I am doing what I can to make this school safer.”

“That ain’t enough!”

Mr. Pulitzer regained his composure, and his unsettling smile returned. “Ah, Mr. Jack Kelly. Suspended for fighting and encouraging delinquent behavior,” he began to pace around the room, and Jack had a terrible look on his face. The principal stopped again and faced the boy. “If you’re planning on adding this to your record as well, I might as well have you expelled!”

“They was bullies!” Jack yelled. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Them stupid brothers, beating up on… on–“ Jack shook the thought out of his head and looked back up at Mr. Pulitzer. “They was bullies,” he repeated, “and you ain’t no better.”

Everyone stood, shocked, quiet. Mr. Pulitzer’s casually wicked smile was gone, now replaced with disgust and malice. He looked up at the rest of the students.

“Tell all your friends that the walkout is canceled,” he said. “Otherwise, you will suffer the consequences.”

Silence. Not a breath, heartbeat, or pin-drop.

Sarah stepped forward.

“Alright,” she said. All heads turned towards her, mouths agape. “We’ll do it.”

“Sarah–“ Davey started.

“No,” she interrupted. She turned around and faced all of her classmates, back to Pulitzer. “We’re going to college soon, and we don’t want this to be the thing that denies us our chance of getting into our dream schools.” Sarah stared at each kid, eyes wide and screaming what words could not. Go with it, they said, trust me. “Right guys?”

One by one, the students reluctantly nodded. Eventually, Mr. Pulitzer seemed satisfied.

“Alright, children. Out we go,” he said, holding the door open. The kids sluggishly gathered their things and walked out the door. Mr. Pulitzer made sure they all made it out the front gate, then let them go. As soon as they were all out, Sarah motioned for them all to gather ‘round.

“We’re not actually canceling this, are we?” Hannah asked.

“No, no, of course not,” Sarah replied. “I got a plan… though I don’t have all of it.”

“Well, let’s hear it, and we’ll fill in the rest,” Katherine said with a smile. Sarah smiled back.

“Alright, well here’s what I’m thinking…”

• • •

On Monday evening, after all the teachers had headed home, the gang met up at a side entrance to the school. At 5:00 pm, a janitor opened the door for the kids, right on schedule. They made their way to the yearbook room.

“Is he okay with this?” One of the boys asked. “Ain’t he gonna get fired if they catch him?”

“He put in his two-weeks’ notice eleven days ago,” Katherine said with confidence. “I heard my dad talking about it just last Sunday. Trust me, it’s nothing.”

They got to the room, flicked the lights on, and turned on one of the computers. Katherine stuck her flash drive in, opened up a document, and turned on the printer. “I’ll get these going,” she said, “Jack, you go get supplies for the banner from drama and bring them back here. When you’re back, we’ll let you know the setup plan.”

“Got it,” Jack said. He tipped his hat then ran out the door.

Katherine pulled up a map of the school on the computer and motioned for the group to gather around. She grabbed her pencil from behind her ear. “Okay, you all heard Mr. Pulitzer’s announcement yesterday, right?”

“Yeah, he said he’d suspend anyone that went to the walkout!”

Katherine took her pencil and pointed at the front gate on the map. “This is where we had the walkout planned before. So, Pulitzer’s probably going to have that area on watch to catch anyone that shows up. With administration’s attention over there, we’ll have the walkout over here.” She tapped on a space between two of the buildings. “Pulitzer’s office is in building one, right here. So, we take our walkout to this courtyard, right outside his window.”

“Wait, why would we do that? Won’t he suspend us?”

“Not if there’s enough of us,” Katherine said. “Think about it – if we get the whole school involved in this, what’s he going to do about it? Suspend ninety percent of the student population? I don’t think so.”

“But how’re we gonna tell people to go there if they look at our social media?”

“Then we don’t use social media,” Sarah stepped in. “That’s why I wrote this,” she motioned to the document that Katherine pulled up. “Fellow Students,” she read, “Mr. Pulitzer has denied us our right to stay safe, to speak up for ourselves, unaffiliated with the employees of this school. Our lives are in danger due to the apathy and selfishness of adults. We joke that school feels like a jail now, but wait until we build larger gates, hire more police officers, and have mandatory backpack searches every other week. We are not addressing the problem, we are hiding from it. That is why we urge you to join us, on March 14th at 10:00 am at the courtyard, to stand up for yourself and for your safety. If enough of us come, we surely can change this school for the better.”

There was a stunned silence, then a burst of applause.

“Whoa, that was really good!”

“With this, and Jack’s banner, and Katherine’s speech, we will surely win!” Hannah said. Everyone cheered again.

Katherine cracked her knuckles. “Alright,” she said, determined, “let’s get started.”

She began to print hundreds of the fliers. As they printed, Katherine grabbed a stack of about 20 sheets at a time and handed them to one of the runners, who took the fliers and shoved them in lockers all down the halls and taped them onto the insides of bathroom stalls. Eventually, Jack came back to the yearbook room, lugging a bucket of paint supplies in one hand and a huge roll of paper over his shoulder. He set it down, rolled out a long banner across the floor, and got to work. Katherine monitored the printer’s paper and ink levels, while a few members of the gang kept watch just in case an administrator was still at school. The rest of the team used poster boards from the classroom and Jack’s paint supplies to create picket signs for the walkout. For an hour they danced through this routine until the last of the runners came back saying they finished. Katherine printed at least five more per person to hand out the next day, and everyone gathered their things to leave. A parade of kids helped carry Jack’s still-wet banner out the door, while everyone else got the signs. Outside the school, they bid each other good luck, and went their separate ways, ready for tomorrow.

• • •

The walkout hardly followed the plan they’d drafted on Friday: just before ten, a plethora of students walked out of their class. That morning, everyone opened their locker to find Sarah’s flier on their books. Students whispered about it all morning, and word got around. At 9:55 am, all the student organizers made posts on social media en masse – enough time to warn any oblivious students, and not enough time for the administration to see and get a grip. The students congregated in the courtyard, where Jack had set up the mic and speakers, and where Katherine, Sarah, Hannah, Jack, Davey, Race, Romeo, Crutchie, Jojo, Smalls, Sniper, Albert, Henry, Specs, and so many others held the banner together. They faced the building at Mr. Pulitzer’s office.

Mr. Pulitzer and the administrators, deans, and counselors were stationed near the front gate, waiting to see if any foolish students would even try. A minute or so passed, and they seemed proud of themselves – until they heard the loud voice of one Jack Kelly coming from somewhere inside the school.

They ran inside. A teacher came running down the hall towards them. “M-Mr. Pulitzer! The students!”

“What about them? Where are they?” He demanded.

“Look out your window!”

Mr. Pulitzer rushed into his office, to the window, and raised the blinds. Outside in the courtyard, nearly the entire population of the school faced him – in front, the students held a large banner that donned big crimson letters that read: We Will Find A Way.

Mr. Pulitzer’s attention then whipped to the gate surrounding the school – uninterested kids were using this event as a chance to hop the fence and leave school! He spun around in his office and faced the administration that gawked out the window behind him.

“Go catch those students!”

As a herd of deans ran out the office, Mr. Pulitzer looked back out the window.

At this point in their schedule, they were meant to have an introductory speech and list the names of the victims, but now, with their change of plans, the students stood, heads held high, and chanted. The minutes dragged on, and Mr. Pulitzer stared at the kids in disbelief, leaning heavily on the windowsill. The kids chanted, and chanted, and chanted.

After a while, Jack spoke into the microphone. “Okay, alright, looks like the old man’s getting tired of this. We don’t blame ya, Joe. That is why I’m handing the mic over to Katherine, here, to deliver a speech.” The sea of students clapped and cheered, and Katherine nervously took the microphone from Jack.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said. The cheers eventually quieted down, and Katherine looked between the crowd of students and her father in the window. She took a deep breath, unfolded her speech, and began to speak.

Still. That’s the best description of the air as Katherine spoke. Still. The students were quiet, the wind died down, and the only things that existed in that moment were Katherine’s words. She started off slow, and a bit quiet, but as she went on, her voice grew stronger and more confident. Passion, heart, anger, and hope lay behind her words. Her voice turned to spears, spears that struck the hearts and heads of the students that listened, that changed the very atmosphere of their school.

When she finished, the silence exploded into noise – cheers, claps, shouts, whistling; all sorts of noise exploded into the blank canvas of silence, engulfing Katherine in their ecstasy. She smiled, she smiled so wide, and spoke her thanks into the microphone. She looked over her shoulder, at her father in the window, and saw his expression – softer, thoughtful, almost… proud? Katherine grinned and turned back towards the students.

“Now, I would like to ask all of you for a moment of silence, to honor and remember the seventeen victims that died last month.” She said. The noise once again dialed down, and the canvas was wiped clean again.

Silence. Not a breath, heartbeat, or pin-drop.

Sadness, and fear. That was what everyone felt in that minute of silence. One day they were teenagers, trying to live the best years of their life, trying to get into school, trying to ignore the shitty world around them and enjoy themselves for as long as possible. Then, one day, the shitty world came to them, and they were forced to do something now. They were forced to stand up now. They were forced to open their eyes and accept the shitty world for how it is, and told not to do anything about it. Well, now they’re tired, tired of the shitty world being thrown in their face. It’s about time they do something about it.

The minute lasted a lifetime. Katherine’s voice into the microphone, thanking them for the time, was forced and unnatural. It was an awkward break to the silence that pulled them together.

But then, their voices began to rise. They once again chanted, demanding their voices to be heard because no one would listen to them otherwise. Together, their voices sang as one. Their hearts beat as one.

Mr. Pulitzer stood, one versus one.

Even as the clock ticked past 10:17, the students continued to stand. The teachers couldn’t do jack shit about it, and they didn’t try – they were shocked, dumbfounded, completely thrown off by the entire event. The students continued to chant, angry voices and signs demanded Pulitzer do something.

“Mr. Pulitzer, you have to do something!” One of the administrators said. Mr. Pulitzer slowly nodded, then motioned for the cluster of staff around him to back up. He opened the window and Katherine approached him.

“Katherine, dear, hand me the microphone, please.”

Katherine looked back at the students, then to her father, and hesitantly gave it to him. He cleared his throat, then spoke. He addressed the students; the hardworking, determined, stubborn students. He addressed their dedication, bravery, and possibly even stupidity to do what they did just now. But – he said – he had a change of mind. Seeing this, and hearing his daughter’s speech, he reconsidered the situation. He announced that he would not suspend all of them, for he had no means to do so, but they still had to make up their class time at some point since it was not a school-organized event. Overall, he was fair, but still remained the same old man that he was known to be.

“With Katherine’s words, I’ve changed my mind,” he said. He gave his daughter a small smile. “Not completely, but… enough.”

The students erupted into cheers. After the chaos died down, and the event adjourned, students were herded back to their classrooms. Even though they had to go back to class, and didn’t exactly do anything impactful or whatever, Katherine’s riveting speech still lingered in their minds. Her last words grabbed their hearts, touched their minds, and took them all by the hands and led them to the starting line.

We are the generation that inherits the future. What will you do to protect it?

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