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parsleysoda1984 · 7 years

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Georgina and Olaf for the headcanons?

Okay, so I’m still working on the Olaf half of this, but because the Georgina headcanons got ever so slightly out of hand (forgive me for the long post), I’ll avoid overwhelming everyone and just post them by themselves. I went with identity as the uniting theme here.What I thinkrealistically: TheNetflix line about “the plastic surgery to assume a new identity”doesn’t mean Georgina had extensive work done. In fact, I’d argue that sheprobably had one very specific and comparatively minor procedure, andthat was it. Here’s why.

Whilereconstructive surgery can change your face, it does the square root ofjack shit to change who you actually are in any meaningful legal sense; forthat, you need to alter your documents, not your appearance, and Georgina isvery specific here that she assumed a new identity. She probablyprocured a forged birth certificate, but in order to operate a business or amedical practice - even a spurious one, because getting your hands onspecialized equipment tends to require proof that you know what you’re doingwith it - she’d need things like a driver’s license and a passport and a wholehost of other documents. While it’s entirely possible to simply forge all ofthose as well, she would be acutely aware of the fact that everything goes moresmoothly when you can produce legitimate, above-board paperwork, and in orderto obtain that kind of paperwork, there’s one thing you are almost invariablyrequired to provide: fingerprints.

Instead ofradically altering her entire appearance - which I can’t help but think she’dbalk at on principle - all she would have to do would be to undergoblack-market fingerprint grafting. She’d have three basic options: procuringthe grafts the old-fashioned way (from a carefully-chosen victim), getting herhands on some bioidentical synthetic skin (and, let’s face it, if anyone wouldknow the sorts of people researching that, it would be Georgina Orwell), orsimply paying an unscrupulous plastic surgeon to perform a fingerprinttransplant, where the prints from the right hand are grafted onto the left andvice versa (an actual example of this occurred in Japan back in 2009). Newprints, new documents featuring a new alias, a new haircut and a good dye job -that’s assuming a new identity, and it wouldn’t require that shecompromise her entire body to do it.

What I thinkis fucking hilarious:Georgina Orwell is definitely her real name. Ironically, that’s proof thatshe’s not related to the famous author - his legal name was Eric Blair.Instead, at least to my mind, her father’s last name really was Orwell, andboth her parents were so fond of 1984 that they named their daughterafter the author. In fact, they were such devotees of dystopian literature thatthey continued the theme with her middle name: I, after I-330, the subversivefemale lead in the novel We (from which the plot of 1984 wasshamelessly lifted, incidentally).

Explaining overand over again that you have a middle initial but not a middle namegets old fast, so at some point, Georgina started tellingpeople that the I stood for something. At first, for the sake of believability,she went with common names like Iris and Ivy and Isabelle and Irene; however, as time wore on, she began to have more and more fun using thesituation as an opportunity to screw with people, so she now generally informsanyone who asks that her middle name is Ingaborg or Ishtar or, her personalfavorite, Irmengard. If anyone questions it, she acts intensely offended:“It’s an old family name, thank you very much. There’s no need to be impolite.”

What isheart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends: Georgina builds her identity around herideas and spends a great deal of time in her own head, so she normally findsherself on the fringes of social groups. Her early VFD involvement marked oneof the rare times she actually felt includedin something; as she felt more accepted by her fellow Volunteers, she also grewmore comfortable sharing the ideas she normally kept to herself, and her knackfor highly unusual solutions made her increasingly valuable in a secret societywith highly unusual problems.

Then shebroached the topic of hypnosis. She presented it as she saw it: an alternativeto covert reconnaissance and poison darts, with the added benefit of its abilityto turn their enemies into unwitting spies. Andif an assassination is necessary,she pointed out, won’t it be tidier if wecan make it look like an inside job? If the assassin can’t remember what they’vedone, can’t feel any guilt about it – well, isn’t that safer? Isn’t it more humane?More merciful? More noble?

Apparently not.The technique she spent years researching and modifying and honing, that she’dfinally mastered, that she intended as her legacy to the organization and toher friends (didn’t they always talkabout taking the high road?) earned her nothing but a swift dismissal fromthe former and complete estrangement by the latter, and lost her a promisingcareer to boot. With her most cherished idea branded villainous, she brandedherself a villain, and suddenlyhypnosis didn’t feel like mercy anymore.

What wouldnever work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway: She’salive, dammit. (Oh, and she’s also ass-over-teakettle in love with the City’ssixth-most-important financial advisor. Pretty sure Daniel Handler didn’t signoff on that one.)

#ASoUE #Georgina Orwell #asks #I LOVE ASKS YOU GUYS #long post #REALLY fucking long post #I just have a lot of Georgina Feels apparently #headcanon #my work

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anniesadventuresabroad10 · 8 years

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Washington DC

December 27th-30th 2016

I love big cities, I adore museums, and I get unreasonably emotional when surrounded by a lot of history- so naturally I’ve wanted to visit DC for a while now.

My last visit was in 2005 with the rest of my elementary school’s Safety Patrol- and while that trip was fantastic, I wanted to see the city my way and visit the nation’s capitol before the end of Obama’s term.

And so I went. Equipped with my backpack, camera, and far less planning and fewer spreadsheets than normal, I hopped on a Greyhound bus on Tuesday afternoon and arrived in DC with just enough time to be hopelessly turned around in Union Station, have an argument with a metro card machine, and find my hostel before thinking about dinner.

I dropped my bag and headed to a taqueria that came highly recommended and also happened to be 87 feet from my lodgings. Aside from the usual surprise at my dining alone, the staff of El Sol was exceedingly friendly and brought me one of the best margaritas I’ve had (it was probably more tequila than lime, but I’m not complaining!). The chips and salsa were excellent, and the pork in my quesadilla was pretty near perfect. I could easily see why the Washington Post called it the best taqueira in DC. After dinner I returned to my hostel to recharge and plan out the rest of my trip!

For a day that started with a confusing quest for hostel pancakes, my second day in DC was unexpectedly fantastic. After breakfast, I set off into the bright and brisk morning with some vague idea of visiting the National Mall and embracing my inner Leslie Knope. Upon arriving at the dusty green, I set my boots towards the Washington Monument (mostly because none of the museums opened until 10).

I got some great shots and appreciated the opportunity to reflect in the shadows of Washington’s legacy on the current political climate and what can be done to improve the state of things. The visit also provided yet another wonderful excuse to listen to the Hamilton Mixtape again because it was, you know, relevant and whatnot.

Leaving G Wash behind I strolled to the WWII memorial, admiring the wreaths and thinking some more, mostly about the high cost of freedom and how cold my hands were getting. My next stop was clearly visible at the other end of the reflecting pond- The Lincoln Memorial towered above all, trees, people, and ducks alike. I skirted agitated families, had a chat with Abe while reading his 2nd Inaugural Address, and took a few more pictures before taking my leave.

Walking in a nearly straight line from the memorial, I ran into the queue for the Natural History Museum and decided to join it. Cards on the table, I LOVE museums- particularly those for natural history. There’s something comforting about the combination of science and history that just fills me with so much joy. In my happy nerd haze I did get a bit overwhelmed at just how many amazing things there are to know and see and learn- I’m sure the neat rocks, John Muir quotes, National Park pictures, and color chemistry display had something to do with it.

I followed the Natural History Museum with a scarfed down street hot dog and a stroll through several sculpture gardens on my way to the Air and Space Museum. The part of me that never really quite stopped wanting to be an astronaut was giddy with excitement, and the rest of me was pretty pleased too. I sacrificed any cool points I may have had and went through the exhibits with a dumb grin on my face while pushing buttons and exploring all the ways humans have devised to fly.

Stepping out into the sunshine, I realized that I had just enough time to tour the Library of Congress. After a brisk walk around the Capitol, I got my bag searched, grabbed a brochure and then had to actively remind myself how to breathe.

The architecture of the Jefferson Building is breathtaking enough, but add books and a ton of quotes about how great learning is? Full on heart eyes. My favorite parts were the exhibits on the top 40 most influential works of American literature (something about acknowledging the power of books and stories that gets to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) and seeing Jefferson’s library-Jefferson and I may not agree on much politically, but the man did know how to appreciate books. Seeing the main reading room was also quite special, I would have loved to spend more time there, but evidently you need a better reason than “I want to be around books” to obtain a pass. It was an excellent visit.

Feeling a few steps beyond peckish and following a cousin’s recommendation, I decided to try the Founding Farmers. The place was crowded with locals and tourists alike and there was a warm buzz that bounced off the exposed brick and ironwork. After waiting nearly 90 minutes for a table (I had nowhere else to be and they had books about farming, pamphlets from the ND farmer’s union, and plenty in the way of people watching to tide me over) I was seated at the end of a community table and ordered a drink from my waiter who seemed mildly surprised at my dining alone. The clover club cocktail was an excellently balanced combination of gin, lemon, grenadine, and whipped egg white and was exactly what I hadn’t known I wanted after such a long and busy day. For dinner I ordered the chicken and waffles and was given a plate of food so delicious that it made me question if I’d ever actually had chicken and waffles before. Next time I’m in DC I’ll definitely try to come back.

Full, exhausted, and warm I headed back to my hostel, ready to take off my boots and turn in so I could be well rested for Thursday’s adventure.

The sky was grey and the drizzle was undecided on my second morning in DC, which meant my first order of business was finding a cozy local coffee shop from which I would plan out my morning. I wandered into Ebeneezer’s, which was full of people happily enjoying the brews and not talking to one another. I ordered a honey lavender latte, and it was fantastic- just sweet enough and wonderfully floral without tasting like soap. I read and journaled for a bit before deciding to walk over to the temple of American justice- the Supreme Court. They had a delightful exhibit about the building’s history and construction. After taking a gander at the famed spiral staircases, I found my way to the ground floor to join the queue for a courtroom lecture and used the wait time as a chance to sit and admire the spectacular great hall and its Christmas tree.

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t get a little misty-eyed upon being seated in the chamber where so much history has happened. Even just seeing the chairs where the justices sit while hearing oral arguments was a bit chilling (especially when I began to consider the still missing ninth chair). The lecturer did an excellent job of explaining the appellate system and the functioning of the court while bringing home the enormity of what the judicial branch is responsible for.

As I left the court, a bit shell-shocked and star-struck, I didn’t have much time to dilly dally as I had a walking tour to meet! Though the day was rainy and cold our guide, Ingaborg, was cheerful and told the stories behind the monuments exceedingly well. I gained a greater appreciation for the memorials I’d seen the day before and was able to see the monuments I’d missed. I vaguely remembered the Korean memorial from my last trip, those silently watching statues were just as striking this time around as they were ten years ago.

I also really loved seeing the MLK Memorial in person, and the pictures I took don’t do it justice. There was more to it than I was expecting, instead of just the relief carving, there was a bit of a story all built around the “out of the mountain of darkness, a stone of hope” quote. The FDR Memorial was also very lovely and seeing the Jefferson Memorial at sunset felt rather special- if also very cold and windy.

With the tour ended, my stomach growling, and my knees more than ready for a break, I went off to find dinner at the famous Shake Shack. I found my way to the metro in the gathering darkness and emerged in the middle of a crowd headed to watch a Capitols game. The crowd was also present in the restaurant- nearly every available surface had someone eating on it! I found a perch to eat my fairly good burger and drink a solidly mediocre chocolate shake before leaving, feeling much more energized and patient. I had an early night in order to rest my joints and prepare for my final day in DC.

Friday dawned bright and cold, and I was up and ready for adventure fairly early. I dropped my backpack off at the Union Station luggage storage before heading to Foggy Bottom in search of good coffee and the White House. The cafe I was hunting for was closed for New Years, so I settled for Starbucks to warm and wake myself up as I wandered. The White House was thoroughly barricaded but still neat to look at. I also really liked seeing the National Christmas Tree and Menorah.

I was able to stop at the American History Museum for a little while and really adored it. I saw Julia Child’s kitchen, the original Star Spangled Banner, old lab glassware, and the Classical shirtless statue of George Washington. It was pretty great! I did leave the museum before I’d seen everything because I had someone very exciting to meet and a new museum to see!

Due to some wonderful luck and great timing, I was able to see one of my very best friends and favorite people in the entire universe. My friend and her mom had tickets to the new National Museum of African American History and Culture, and happened to have a spare. The new museum is absolutely gorgeous and is very well thought out. Each exhibit is packed with so much rich detail and there’re so many things to look at! It’s a beautifully done museum and I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to see it. It was also incredible to see my friend because I miss her like crazy and she’s wonderful, so I relished the opportunity to catch-up a bit, and it was great to see her mom again too!

After a great lunch in the museum’s cafe, I said my goodbyes and dashed to Union Station where I collected my bags and headed to the bus stand. I arrived back in Raleigh thoroughly exhausted from my travels, and a bit glad to sleep in my own bed. It was a really lovely trip, and I’m very glad that I decided to listen to the travel bug that’s been biting at my ear for so long now.

I don’t know where my next adventure will take me, but I know I can’t wait

#Washington DC #Travel #Washington #Solo Travel #This whole trip was just me embracing my inner Leslie Knope #I'm such a nerd #especially in museums #history

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