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barricadebops · 3 years

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To Dance Through the Seasons

Summary: Marius reflects on a memory of dazzling dance turned melancholic as the people at his wedding spin through the ballroom with great ecstasy.

Contrary to popular belief, Marius' grandfather was not the one who had provided him with his education in dance. Most thought that he had hired a tutor for Marius when he was younger and before he had left the house to the many whisperings of the society in which he was raised. But this was not true. Some others yet believed that Gillenormand himself taught him to dance; the man certainly was interested enough in teaching Marius to behave the way he believed young men with spirit and a want for women should, and while it was true that the old man had quite a strength to his movement that seemed shouldn't be possible for a man of his age, this belief was not true either. There were a few still that believe that perhaps his aunt took pity on his essentially orphaned state and, seeing no other parental figure in his life do so, taught him to dance herself.

But none of these thoughts were true. For Marius had received his education and training in dance quite late for the position he held in society, and it was quite informal too, for Marius had been taught to waltz and even quadrille in the small flat owned by--once owned by Courfeyrac.

His first attempts had been laughable, and laugh Courfeyrac did. Having come from a family of means himself, Courfeyrac already knew well how to dance, and from what he had heard as they danced (or in Marius' case, tripped) around the room, spinning and attempting to keep to time, it seemed a good few of Courfeyrac's friends (his friends too, Courfeyrac was adamant on insisting) knew too.

It had come, surprisingly, before he had met Cosette, or even gained knowledge of her existence; it had come suddenly one day as Courfeyrac popped the question out of the blue. Retrospectively, others may say that they may have started much early in their friendship, but he supposed that was how youth was: quick transitions from vous to tu.

At his denial, Courfeyrac had sought to remedy this error and leapt out his seat to extend his hand to him, arranging them in the correct positions to teach Marius to lead. And thus the tradition was born; every so often, Courfeyrac would teach Marius to dance in the cramped little apartment, delighting himself in what little progress he made with each session.

And each time, Courfeyrac had always donned his best clothes and insisted Marius did the same. He believed it was for the atmosphere.

When he had met Cosette, these lessons became even more crucial. To Courfeyrac, that is, rather than Marius.

"You must dance with your wife when you finally have your wedding with her," he teased as he allowed himself to be lead by a then much-more confident Marius. "Ah, Marius! When am I to finally meet this mystery maiden of yours! Am I to suppose you shall reveal her only at the marriage?" And at this Marius would smile and make some comment back on how Courfeyrac would do better to focus instead on the newest woman to have caught his recent fancy, than disclose to him that he had once seen her before, and even deigned to call her ugly. It was a memory that made his nose wrinkle.

As it happened, with the impending rebellion, Courfeyrac seemed to have less time to dance with Marius. Marius, love struck with Cosette, hardly noticed.

Now, however, as his eyes swept across the dance floor at his grand weddding, he wished, though he was still giddy with the feeling of love that filled most of his heart, that there was some part of his love addled brain that noticed. A part of him wished that he insisted, nay demanded, that Courfeyrac take a few moments to step away from the papers he grew to scritch ink on more and more as the time went by, and spin with him through the room.

A part of Marius cursed his lack of awareness. Anothet part yet cursed all those in Paris--all of Paris--for being the reason he couldn't keep his promise to his dear friend.

"It's all good and well that you'll be dancing with this mystery-maiden-to-be-wife on the day of your wedding," Courfeyrac said as they glided across the floor. "Especially as your talent for this seems to grow--La Quadrille is quite difficult and yet you've picked it up rather well--but I've strayed from my point. What I'm saying is that while it's all well you should dance with your wife first on the day of your wedding--she will be your wife after all--I believe it is nothing groundbreaking for me to ask that I be your second."

There had been a twinkle in his eyes as he asked, daring Marius to reject something that would so obviously be accepted by both.

And so of course he had accepted. But it hadn't been enough for Courfeyrac.

"Do I have your guarantee on that, Monsieur?" he cried. "You're sure you won't offer it to any pesky cousins? Your aunt? Perhaps even that old wheezer of a grandfather of yours would want a go."

And so Marius laughed hard enough to break the rhythm of the dance--and it was quite welcome, for he couldn't remember ever laughing quite so much while under the rule of his grandfather--and he assured--promised Courfeyrac that unless heaven above suddenly experienced a storm, he would be his second dance at his wedding.

At that time, he hadn't noticed that the grounds of the city were in enough turmoil with the illness of Lamarque, man of the people, and the dissatisfaction of a great number of people, that its quakings were enough to be felt in heaven above, which would see a staggering number of arrivals soon enough.

"Excellent!" Courfeyrac had replied. "You watch Marius--at this rate, you shan't have to call in a tutor for your children either. I shall teach all your little ones to dance for their own weddings." And the mention of children--imagining children with Cosette--was enough an image to have him blushing and his mind cloud with visions of Cosette that turned his thoughts away from how joyous Courfeyrac looked as he laughed and teased at Marius' flush, and Marius never quite forgave himself for being so caught up as to miss such a moment.

As it happened to be, that promise was impossible to fulfill. He knew it the first time he woke up from his coma and his sobs racked his body hard enough for the doctor to express concern to his grandfather that he might worsen his injuries. He knew it when his grandfather handed him the guest list for the wedding and no matter how many times his eyes scanned the papers, the name M. Courfeyrac never once appeared, until his eyes could no longer run over the list from how they watered as he weeped. He knew it the moment he stepped out onto the floor and offered Cosette his hand and there was no brilliant smile in the background watching with pride as Marius led flawlessly on the dance floor.

But it still did not deter him from excusing himself from Cosette's side and approaching the figure situated in the corner, half concealed in shadows, away from the crowd, a faint smile on his usually illustriously vibrant face.

There were no words he had; this wasn't any sort of storybook where he poured all his grief out in his speech. For as soon as he felt it overburden his being, as soon as he felt it overwhelm his heart and sicken his stomach with how strongly he felt it, the words dissolved on his tongue the moment he opened his mouth to speak.

So there were no words to speak. There were only things to be done as Courfeyrac raised his hand to offer him a dance.

And he should have known. If not from the countless times he had played the memory of the exact event of it over and over until it rotted his brain--the way Courfeyrac had fallen quick as the lightning that struck his heart when he truly saw Cosette for the first time and he no doubt wasted Courfeyrac's time telling him about, the way the light was dashed out from his eyes usually so bright and expressive, a sort of warmth Marius had rarely experienced in his life, like that of a warm bed welcoming him after the cold possibility of loneliness having left such a life of certainty, now fizzled and extinguished leaving the hearth so cold--or the way he had spoken the fact out loud to his grandfather--he's dead, such a casual declaration for such a dazzling personality-- then from the way Courfeyrac was missing a hat. Being the dandy he was, he would not be caught in a wedding without proper attire. So he should have known. And yet, the haunting grief that forced his body into a shudder, the brief wave of rage he still hadn't completely managed to rid himself of even after these several months, and the last overwhelming sense of helplesness that he felt as his hand passed through that of Courfeyrac's--this mere apparition of Courfeyrac's--and his smile turned a little sadder; so close, he looked so real. Just in Marius' reach, and yet, everytime-- from the first time he had seen him the moment before he confronted his grandfather about his wishes to marry Cosette, to the present moment in the ballroom now--everytime Marius tried to extend even the tips of his fingers to brush what should have been warm skin, he only came away cold and empty, and any attempt to garner laughter which came so easily to his friend only caused him to smile with a more melancholic tone to him.

And Marius was no longer sure how he could go on with it anymore. Everywhere he turned, Courfeyrac seemed to be there; a part of him begged him to leave him to mourn and move on with some semblance of normal. Another felt that perhaps even if he had with him this silent spirit, then he may not have completely lost his best friend.

As it was, no matter which warring side was winning depending on the day, it should he said that Marius was exceedingly tired of it. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the ghosts he carried, and Courfeyrac was a great weight he could not get off his chest.

Not even as he stood there in front of an apparition, a ghost, he knew was not real, no matter how he sought to find a hat lying somewhere that would be the symbol of Courfeyrac's beating heart.

As it stood, there was none.

But there was nothing to be said. And so he turned back and restationed himself by Cosette's side. When she asked if he was alright, he plastered a smile on his face and said he'd never felt better in his life. Watching the others dance, he remarked how they would have to hire a tutor to teach their children to dance.

Courfeyrac once promised Marius he would share a dance with him on his wedding. But this hatless apparition of him had neither been dressed with the appropriate clothes for a dance at his wedding, nor the appropriate armour for a fight at an abandoned rebellion.

#hm I'm not so sure I really like this piece #Barricade Day #barricade day #Barricade Day 2021 #les miserables #marius #courfeyrac #cosette #marius & courfeyrac #also can you tell I came up with the title last minute LMAOOOO I'm so bad at coming up with titles

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jewish-privilege · 4 years

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...As an Ethiopian Jew living in America, it can be frustrating having to constantly feel like your identity is under suspicion by not only other Jews but also people who have absolutely no knowledge of Jews or Judaism. I’ve complained alongside my Moroccan, Yemeni, and Persian friends countless times about the different microaggressions and plain ignorance of our fellow Jews and non-Jews alike; this can range from a friend’s grandparent making an inappropriate remark to being held up at the airport as the TSA agent looks over your last name once again. I remember in eighth grade history class, hearing my teacher profess how “the Holocaust was stupid because Jews are essentially white.” As a young person who still had no clue how to react when an authority figure behaved ignorantly, all I could do was sit there in silence.

I will not be silent any longer.

For a lot of people, the idea of “Jew” equals “white,” and that leads to a range of annoying to downright insulting encounters while navigating the spaces where we should feel we belong.

In America, many of us are faced with the threat of anti-Semitism that scars the whole of our community, but we’re also faced with the ingrained and monstrous beast that is racism. It happens like this: You overhear terms like “shvartze,” the Yiddish word for black that is considered a slur against Black people, whispered while meeting a friend’s extended family. Your mother is harassed by a random security guard as she picks you up from working Sunday school at the J.C.C. The police harass you following a cousin’s bar mitzvah. These are just some of the forms of harassment that I and my loved ones have experienced in spaces where all Jews are supposed to be able to safely congregate. More often than not, members of our communities are put in precarious positions in regards to dealing with bigotry that presents itself in spaces meant to for all Jews.

...Ashkenormativity is a unique form of eurocentrism that has found its way into Jewish culture. In a twisted way, the “whiteness” that became a hallmark of power due to European colonialism has been able to become a boon for white-passing Jews, in particular Ashkenazim. While in much of actual Europe, anti-Semitism is so deeply rooted that even having white skin doesn’t necessarily enable you with privilege, in the unique case of America, it allows for a situational point of privilege that changes based on the whim of the majority. The same way that in so much of society, we have defined white people as the “default” person, a similar sentiment has translated into defining the Ashkenazi as the “normative” Jew.

For Jews of Color — some of whom are Ashkenazi themselves though still face racism based on the color of their skin — we are not only asking for our fellow Jews to use the privilege they do have in non-Jewish society to better the lives of others; we are demanding to be equal members of our own Jewish communities.

This is not only an American issue. In Israel, even though our Jewishness is no longer seen as a threat, we still face the brutal realities of racism. The slayings of Solomon Teka and Yehuda Biadga last year have caused widespread communal outrage and have brought to the forefront the issues of racism and police brutality in Israeli society. Out of the six Ethiopian Israeli men murdered over the last five years, only the death of one was prosecuted and the sentence only carried the weight of three years. It took until this past January for Haymanot Judaism, the religious practices unique to Beta Israel (Ethiopian Jews), to be fully acknowledged by the Chief Rabbinate as an authentic form of Judaism, despite the ruling of late Chief Rabbi Ovadia Yosef in the early 1970s and decisions made in 2014 to recognize Haymanot Judaism. This means that for the last few decades, many Ethiopian Jews living in Israel either had to convert to Rabbinic Judaism or jump through hoops to be able to engage in major life events like marriage.

Systemic racism from both religious and policing structures in Israel have only worked to attempt to assimilate Ethiopian Jewry in a way that is grossly inappropriate. This includes incidents like the distribution of birth control to Ethiopian women without giving them full disclosure on the effects, throwing out blood donations given by Ethiopians, and sending Ethiopian teens off to boarding schools after settling into Israel. These were all on top of police practices like racial profiling as well as racism from fellow Israelis. Now we are seeing the younger generation taking an active and aggressive stance in protecting themselves and their rights as fellow Israeli citizens against the structures that their own parents couldn’t fight against.

The list of injustices goes on: Out of the many issues of disgusting racism that have occurred against the Mizrahi Jews, one of the most chilling is the disappearances of the over 1000 Yemeni children in the 1950s that until the last two decades went widely under-investigated. Systemic segregation was used as a weapon against many Mizrahi Jews who came to live in Israel. Segregation, religious intolerance, economic inequality, and harassment led to the formation of HaPanterim HaShhorim, the Israeli Black Panthers, in the ’70s to fight against the discrimination faced by Mizrahi and Sephardi Jews. Even today as society improves, there is an education and wealth disparity between Mizrahi and Ashkenazi Jews.

Historically, there has also been a bad habit of the Ashkenazim attempting to triumph their own traditions as greater or more authentic, leading to times when Ethiopian and Indian Jews have been pressured to “convert” as if they weren’t already Jewish.

Even the very way we define Zionism needs to change. Theodor Herzl, the Austrian Jew largely credited as “the father of political Zionism,” was an assimilationist. His viewpoint on what the Jewish state of the future would become was fashioned in a way that only took in the perspective of the non-religious Ashkenazim who frequented his circles. Herzl also supported the Ottoman government against the Armenian rebellion for independence, which resulted in the Armenian genocide.

The issue at the heart of the Zionism that dominates our culture is that the person who we are so quick to give credit to left out a huge portion of our people and didn’t intend on ever including us. Crediting a single person for the dream of Jewish liberation and sovereignty overlooks the fact that our culture, people, and faith thrives because of the fluidity and strength of our many traditions. We should instead credit our families, communities, leaders, and more importantly, ourselves, with the continued survival of our people.

We come from a tradition that calls for us to actively reinterpret what we were left to inherit. For our community to effectively come together, we need to have more hard discussions and push for change. At this point we should not have to ask; we demand our fellow Jews to give us an actual spot at the table.

#ashkenormativity #intra jewish issues #intra jewish racism #long post #erasure of jewish identity #erasure of jewish history #am yisrael chai #jewish self determination #holocaust denialism or revisionism #Beta Israel #Black Jews #anti black racism #erasure of black jews #zionism is not just for ashkenazi or white/white-presenting Jews

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1275

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived? We open all our presents the night of Christmas Eve to begin with; but no, they don’t tease by letting us open a few of them before our usual schedule.

If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose? If I could change blouses to shirts, then I would go with that because I’ve recently gotten into t-shirts and sweatshirts and no longer the trendy and preppy tops I used to like haha. But if not, I would go for shoes.

What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc? It varies as it depends on how much I cried. The harder I cried the more I’d want to sleep it off, because it can actually get pretty exhausting. Sometimes I’ll reach out, sometimes I write. It’s really different every time, but at the end I’m just glad I can no longer even remember the last time I cried out of sadness.

Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term? Well we know the answer to this. It’s satisfying to notice him disappear off the face of the Earth immediately after his term, though. I don’t have a clue what he’s up to now.

Last time you felt suicidal? For some reason I felt down last Thursday and I felt the slightest, slightest tinge of suicidal thoughts. No idea where it came from.

Last time you had butterflies? Ugh idk but it was probably BTS-related hahahahahahah

Biggest asshole you know? Certain politicians.

Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them? No, I was on the opposite side of the coin for this one. I was broken up with because they believed they would hurt me, if not already doing so.

What song did you last listen to? Hip Hop Phile by BTS.

Ever ridden in a police car? Nopes.

Ever witnessed a murder? Hmm, not that I can recall. I do remember having to monitor crime stories for one of my very first journalism assignments and the one time I didn’t tag along to the fieldwork with my classmates, they got to witness a stabbing incident :/ By itself of course it always sucks to have violent situations like those, but as a reporter it would’ve been interesting to see the scene and its aftermath.

Have you ever lied under oath? I don’t think so, no. I can’t even remember the last time I was put under oath.

Have you ever failed a subject before? I’ve failed exams but never an entire class.

Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? No.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? Well yeah, I dated one.

Have you ever been in a hot tub before? Sure.

Have you ever been to a movie that sold out? I’ve never experienced trying to buy tickets only to find out they’re all sold out, but that’s also probably because we have hundreds of malls in Manila alone and you can always find a theatre that are still offering tickets.

What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep? I’m not usually that way with horror movies, but I do remember running into a jumpscare on TikTok while I was scrolling at 3 AM. Not fun.

When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad? Touchpad. I never use a mouse.

What’s your mom’s mom’s name? Agnes.

Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like? I’m not interested in anyone so this shouldn’t be a problem.

Have you ever been tempted to steal? Sure, but the urge is never so strong.

What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? I’m not reading anything.

Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? Nah. I did have a Ben&Ben phase, though I haven’t revisited their music in a long time.

Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself? I’m not sure about completely naked, probably still my ex. As for partially naked, my dad sometimes goes shirtless at home as most Filipino dads do lol.

Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? The most iconic for me would be that porcupine looking ass from Resident Evil 4, I believe it was meant to be for one of the boss stages or something. Anyway, it’s memorable for me just because that fucker had been impossible to defeat and I loved watching my older cousin do attempt after attempt. I don’t think he ever got to beat him and by the time he did us cousins were already adults, lol.

On a side note, we called him ‘Porcupine’ as kids since a shitload of spikes would stick out of him unpredictably during the boss stage, and I thought that nickname had been just our thing; but I’m actually surprised that that villain actually comes up when you do a simple ‘Resident Evil 4 porcupine’ search haha. I guess other people called him the same thing too.

What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? I usually put on a playlist of BTS’ rapline; I tend to enjoy high-energy songs while driving.

Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I don’t see why I wouldn’t when it comes to the dog. I don’t want a cat or rat.

All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with? G.

What did you and your ex fight about most? It was about the deeper, more profound stuff. We never saw eye to eye about the future, if we were helping the other grow, etc. Someone was always scared or insecure about something that the other could never help with fixing.

Don’t you love long hugs? Sure, I love getting hugs as long as I’m comfy around the one giving it.

And long kisses? Mhm, they’re nice.

Have you ever purchased condoms? Only for Angela when she had still been too shy to ask for it herself.

Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend? No. We had gone out of town for daytrips, but never for a fully-decked out vacation.

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? I wouldn’t do anything that loud. My resentment’s a lot more reserved and subtle, definitely on the passive-aggressive side.

Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it? If I left like a paint scratch, no. If I was somehow stupid enough to manage wrecking the car then yes.

Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot? Oh that’s just gross. No. I do remember unknowingly parking over a spot meant for the handicapped once just because the paint was so fucking faded. It was genuinely so hard to tell but in the end I ended up just getting out of the spot and looked for another just to be on the safe, unassholey side.

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? Not at all! I love telling people I work in PR and sharing the brands I work with...it’s just a bitch trying to explain what exactly it is I do on a normal day. I’m still blanking out on it now that I’m thinking about it, haha. PR’s a challenge to summarize in one or two sentences.

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving? I honestly have no clue how I’d deal with it. Ideally I would pull over and help bring it to the side of the road, and try to ask for help from passersby as well. I’m still not sure what I should/would do next.

Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? French, Spanish, and Italian restaurants always seem to carry a pleasant, date-y atmosphere to them, so any of those cuisines should be ok. I also like quieter restaurants with warm yellow lighting, since that makes me feel at home the most. The place definitely doesn't have to be super popular; I would just want for it to serve good food.

What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue? Flying planes.

What would be the most amazing adventure to go on? Probably something that’s booked with thrill-seeking adventures? Like a day of wakeboarding, paragliding, skydiving, riding an ATV...I would be exhausted as fuck and sleep for the next three days, but I can’t even begin to imagine how fun it would be.

When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. < Yeah, essentially. My friends ask me for general life advice too.

Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like? Yeah. But I always defended her.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? I mean I’ve written long letters, but I haven’t made a poem or song for anyone.

Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? These days it would probably be Arlan. He just finished his Masters in Journalism at Columbia and I couldn’t be more proud. I remember wanting to attend Columbia too, but seeing how my love of journalism turned out...I’ve long accepted the fact that that route was not meant for me, hahaha.

What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives? Finish a painting, which can also serve as a callout to me lol.

What would you rate 10/10? Seafood.

What do you hope never changes? My relationships with my best friends.

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted? No, I barely have a clue who she is and she seemed decades older when she called me up this morning.

Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to? I’m good.

Where is the person you have feelings at right now?

Are you happy with your relationship status? Yessssssss. I love not having to worry about another person to spend on LOL

When did you last cry? What for? Two Saturdays ago. The one-year mark of my breakup had been coming up and an overwhelming wave of emotions just flooded me all of a sudden, I guess. There was happiness and relief from not being stuck in it anymore; feeling sorry for myself as I remembered the turmoil and deterioration I went through in the latter part the year; anger for the shit she pulled; and there was also just the general feeling of being grateful that I’m still here after everything.

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love?

When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone? No clue. I’m not holding my breath for it and that’s okay.

Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently? Yeah, unfortunately I’ve always been surrounded by at least one person who terrifies me.

What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself? Nothing more than a day. That’s something I have yet to try out.

Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like? Athenna was relentless in her insults. I dunno why I was friends her for as long as I was.

Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like? If they’re some random person on the internet with disgusting political views, then yeah; but it’s just thoughts I keep in my head and I never verbalized the bullying. But not anyone in real life. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?” If I’m friends with the person I’ll banter with them for a bit until I give in for a hug. If it was any other guy I barely know...I would be disgusted and throw them the dirtiest glare.

Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. < LOL same. Anyway no, not these days. I used to but they’re not really a part of my personal style anymore.

Who are you the most uncomfortable around? Relatives with the wrong political views.

Who has your heart? Nobody.

Should cloning ever be allowed to happen? I don’t see the point. No.

Are you impatient with really shy people? If it gets to the point that they seem aloof and radiate very I-could-not-care-less-about-getting-along-with-any-of-you vibes, then yeah I feel like I would get irritated pretty fast. But I was an extremely shy person once too, so I’m typically friendly with them and I would usually be That person who constantly stays next to them so they feel like they belong.

Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window? It sits in the window, as with most households here.

What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently? I haven’t encountered anything wacky recently.

Would you ever get a fashion mullet? No.

Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning? No.

Do you believe in spiritual gifts? No.

Do you believe in callings? Not really, no.

If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done? Hell no. I get extremely sheepish in front of a camera and a thousand times worse at posing.

#survey #surveys

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literaphobe · 4 years

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Im so sorry...is your sister a minor

yeah she’s 17. i really don’t blame her it just sucks. anyway i think i needed to work through this but its also way too long so

lol like that was supposed to be my birthday gift but it has now become a romantic getaway for a man and his gf (who is 18 years younger than him) and my sister and one of her friends. at like. one of the most expensive hotels in the country. the same man who guilted me into giving private tutoring to 8 students at a time while i was a student because he apparently is super poor and has no money and no job. (i started tutoring for extra money and to just. have a job. because he has also given me shit about that before too. if i don’t have a job i’m like a useless baby child who he can never trust to be responsible for her own life. turns out that was just a load of bullshit to trap me. and yeah i was teaching 8-9 students at some point and i think i was like telling him hey i don’t know if this is a good idea. its a little crazy. and he was like no u should keep doing it. its money u should just earn it. we aren’t doing great financially and at some point we might need ur help paying for ur sister’s tutoring classes. and so i did and it hurt me SO much last semester. + covid but also. it was tutoring mostly lmao)

anyway i just. the thought of everything made me cry a lot in the shower lol. like that. quiet cry where u are sobbing uncontrollably but u have to mute it as much as possible so that ur mother who’s washing dishes in the kitchen doesn’t hear it

today we had some ikea furniture delivered. and i was assembling it. and my mom told me “when we were married i was always the one putting together the IKEA furniture. ur dad would always get frustrated and give up” and then in the shower i realized that’s exactly how my dad treats me lmao. i am.... his ikea furniture

so like. i can actually trace the most recent incident of abuse i faced from him back to when. i allowed him to “help” me with my university degree transfer issues. u know. because i couldn’t do the coding degree he pressured me into doing. and wanted to do something else (i could’ve gone to my uni open house w my friends. who ended up entering the arts faculty. and i WANTED to do psychology in the arts faculty too. but my dad and his gf were there. and they just. told me if i did that i would have no future and no job prospects when i graduated. which is SO fucking funny because both of them individually. their grades were super fucking shit and they were never good enough to get into the school that i did. so they had no fucking business telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. but i didn’t know that because they lied to me. my dad lied to me about so many things to scare me into thinking i couldn’t do anything. and at this point in my life. they were still monitoring my internet usage. and there were restrictions set on my phone. mere. months. before i was meant to be a university student. even getting restrictions off my phone was a big fight i had to have. i bought my own laptop with money i made from this f&b job because i knew if i waited for them to get one for me i would be waiting forever. and i was just so fucking scared of them so i got a. ‘practical’ degree. and then slid off my adhd meds because even that felt like part of the trap they kept me in for years)

i decided i wanted to do linguistics and become a linguistics major but my school wasn’t letting me. and it had been a year. so i let him and my mom get involved. which i had SUCH a bad feeling about. an awful awful bad feeling. i was right lmao. i should’ve known his involvement wouldn’t have done shit and would also. set me up for yet another Major Traumatic Incident. which i have spent the entirety of 2020 trying to avoid. do you know how stressful and tiring it feels to just like. every moment around ur own father is u just trying to walk on eggshells praying and hoping that nothing bad will happen. i tried so hard and it fell apart in the end anyway. he couldn’t fix this problem so he took it out on me

my school essentially texted us back saying “we get a shit load of transfer requests every year, even from students from other schools. ur grades from the classes u took aren’t good enough to justify a transfer” and like they were right. i had been off my meds. various things in life had happened. my commute situation wasn’t helping matters either (to and from was 2 hours each) and it has just. not been great. grandad passed away like 2 weeks ago or something at that point. which. may have been an underlying cause for the situation. or maybe he was always going to blow up at me and get violent and crazy. idk

anyway. i guess u could say it is ‘my fault’ for cutting off contact w my father n not speaking to him. but also. he threatened to throw me into a mental institute. and also. violently refused to let me leave the house so he could keep yelling at me. he physically would not let me. i yelled at him to just let me go but he implied that he would actually hurt me if i tried to get past him again. and he said all sorts of shit like he can be crazy too and he can be crazier than me which is something he’s said before. what triggered me to leave was. ok so in the beginning he was giving me the same thing he has yelled at me about over the years. i am super super fucking smart but i waste it all away on purpose and refuse to get my shit together and that’s somehow a personal attack on him. i can’t remember most of it by now. but anyway. i was tearing up and keeping absolutely quiet just waiting for it to be over so i could leave and go to another room. but then he started to. yell at me for crying. its so fucking ironic and weird because in a separate previous incident i was complaining about my school and how much it all was. and i was barely raising my voice but he was like woah woah stop being so emotional!!! as if he doesn’t regularly scream and shout and punch walls or whatever the fuck over the SMALLEST bullshit. anyway. he started to scold me for crying. and then he said ‘if you go out in the future and get a job are you going to cry like this too when ur boss scolds you? or are you acting like this because i’m family and you think its okay?’ as if. i have never had a job. as if i have never had to deal with a boss. bro i swear to fucking god. i am dead to most things now because of him. he can’t do shit. but. in the moment i found this so ridiculous and just SO fucking stupid that i left. i had had enough. i started laughing and i walked out and went to grab my bag so i could go. i didn’t. get very far obviously. and when my dad started threatening me i genuinely thought i was going to die. he was so angry and deranged that i thought he was going to murder me. my heart was going just. so so so fast. even tho i was just standing there. and i told him he was terrifying me (to which he said “GOOD”) and i just NEEDED to get out of this situation and get some space (to which he said “NO” repeatedly). he refused to admit that he would use actual violence to prevent me from leaving the house. he told me he would NEVER let me leave. which was fucking ridiculous. i stay at his house. 2 days out of the fucking week. he literally shoved me backwards so hard when i was trying to leave and he wanted to stop me. he also refused to admit that he used violence or was planning to use violence. i tried to point out this flaw in his logic to him. i said ur going to hurt me. he said no. i said ok then if ur not going to hurt me then let me walk past you and leave the house. he also said no again. and then our cousins rang the door at some point. so then he started to come to his senses. he was like. ‘the reason i don’t want to let you leave is because i’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.’ which was so fucking stupid. i have NEVER threatened to hurt myself in front of him. i have never shared ANY thoughts of self harm in front of him. he’s the one who would get into massive fights w his dad and threaten to jump out of the window in anger (and i don’t even mean when he was younger. he would fight with his 93 year old dad. fucking stupid bitch). i made this clear to him that i was never ever planning on hurting myself. and then he said fine and let me leave. meaning i had to answer the door to my cousins in tears while he got to walk back to his room and lock himself in

he also. at some point during this argument, told me there would be consequences to me leaving. i guess i know those consequences now lmao. and like. i went home to my moms house. my cousins walked me there. i still haven’t told them. idk if my dad told them. my dad texted me to gaslight me. said that when he said he was going to put me in a mental hospital he meant it as a friendly suggestion because of ‘the state i was in’. and that it ‘wasn’t meant as a threat’ and like. oof. healthy suggestions aren’t meant to be yelled. anyway. i might be texting him. just to inform him about developments and to like. i guess set boundaries maybe. idk. i can’t carry on like this. i hate him and am terrified of him but. cutting him out of my life is basically inviting ostracism from his side of the family. and it’s putting so much stress on me. so. lol

#ask

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chaoswillfallrpg · 4 years

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HESTIA JONES is THIRTY-TWO YEARS OLD and an AUROR in THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT at THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC. She looks remarkably like AJA NOAMI KING and considers herself aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. She is currently OPEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

A woman who has always known exactly what she’s wanted out of life, Hestia Jones was raised in the knowledge she was destined for greatness. Born in North West London to famous Auror ALICIA AVERY-JONES and Wizgamot Judge BALTHASAR JONES, Hestia had large shoes to fill and had a childhood laden with distant parenting and the demand for perfection. The eldest of two children, Hestia was born when her mother and father believed they were truly ready to be parents, but often left her at home in the care of a nanny to focus on their careers. Hestia was born out of the necessity of carrying on their family line before the two felt they were too old, but it was clear a child meant slowing their lives down which neither her mother or father were prepared to do. When Hestia became too old for nanny, she was left in the care of a tutor who prepared Hestia for the strict education she would receive at Hogwarts. Her early days were spent with her nose in a book, a quill in her hand and an Outstanding on every piece of work she turned in to be marked. Hestia soon realised the only attention she would gain from her parents was when she produced hard work, which they valued above all else.

With her mother working hard to become head of The Auror’s Office, it was Hestia’s father she spent the most time with at home, sitting beside him on their long family table in the dining room hoping he’d smile at her neatly presented essay left in front of him. Her cousin often remarked at the oddity of her relationship with her parents. LUCILLE JONES was two years younger than Hestia and the only real companion she had growing up. The apple of her parents eye, her mother was a Muggle actress, whilst her father was an Auror as famous as Hestia’s mother. But despite their fame and wealth, they poured all their love and attention into their daughter, which made Hestia feel small and insignificant. Being left with her aunt, uncle and cousin during the odd weekend when her parents were away was a holiday to Hestia. Her aunt and uncle spoiled her the way she thought she always should have been treated, often sitting silently at family gatherings wishing she’d been born to her uncle ADRIAN and aunt ELODIE rather than being ignored by her parents until they were told of her schooling progress. All of her family had noticed it, remarking her parents were people who should have probably never been parents.

It was as Hestia was preparing to go off to Hogwarts that her younger sister GWENOG was born, a shock to both Hestia and her parents who had claimed they hadn’t wanted any more children. She almost felt sorry for the baby who would grow up as she did in their lonely home in Primrose Hill fighting for attention with their parents' busy schedule, but mostly Hestia was happy she finally wasn’t alone. Though the age gap between them was substantial, at least she would have something to distract her during her visits home from school which was a blessing within itself. Sorted into Ravenclaw, Hestia quickly made her mark at Hogwarts and became top of her year group, vying for the position with her best friend EMMELINE VANCE, but feeling she ultimately came out on top. Hestia was easily one of the most impressive students to grace Hogwarts and was made Head Girl in her final year of school, although she passed up on the opportunity to become Prefect as it would clash with her studies. Despite her brilliance, Hestia soon realised she would never be as impressive as her younger sister to their parents.

Hestia may have been made Head Girl, but it was the same week that Gwenog had mastered a broomstick. She may have graduated as one of the top in her year group and had a History of Magic essentially memorised by the time she was ten, but Gwenog was able to name every single Quidditch Team competing for the League Cup. It was frustrating to say the least, but Hestia tried not to take out her emotions on her younger sister who had clearly benefited from ten years of career progression that had allowed her parents to focus on actually becoming parents. It was as she sat opposite her parents one evening as she told them she had secured her training contract to study to become an Auror and was met with a hug from her father and silence from her mother that she decided she was finished with them. Her surname name was hopefully common enough that no one in her department would figure out her mother was the Head of the Auror’s Office, as she certainly wouldn’t be relying on either of them or her name to get her anywhere in life. Packing a bag, she took her cat, her broomstick, kissed her sister on the head and left her house, putting a downpayment on a flat in King’s Cross to focus on the rest of her life alone.

Auror training was more grueling than she thought it would be, though in true Hestia style she studied almost every night alone in her apartment or with Emmeline with the aim of becoming top of her class as she had been at Hogwarts. It was through her training, Hestia first became aware of AMOS DIGGORY, a self-assured rich boy who began putting himself in direct competition with Hestia. At first Hestia found his effort quite laughable, as it was clear to everyone on their course Amos had been accepted due to the status of his family within the department and struggled academically. Though Hestia is described by most as kind, Amos has often disagreed with this characterisation of her as she is often short with him and has little patience for his frequent jokes and boasting of himself. Finally graduating as an Auror alongside Emmeline and Amos, Hestia quickly threw herself into the job with the aim of solving as many cases as she could. Throughout her time within the Auror’s Office, Hestia has been revered as a competitive, hardworking and diligent witch, who keeps her circle of friends close and often stays behind after hours researching cases which have gone unsolved which are piling up around them.

A number of strange disappearances here and there led Hestia to attempt to reopen the case of Hepzibah Smith who had been supposedly murdered by her own house elf. Unconvinced, Hestia drew negative attention to herself and ended up being reprimanded by her mother for disobeying her superior ALASTOR MOODY. It was humiliating, but worth it given she landed herself in a meeting with ALBUS DUMBLEDORE that would change her life forever. The Order of The Phoenix was in its infancy, with most of its members fresh out of Hogwarts with only basic knowledge in duelling, protective and defensive charms. Hestia has predominantly joined The Order to help her gather information on her unsolved cases, but is surprised how much she has enjoyed her role within the organisation. Alongside Emmeline and Alastor Moody she has taken to attempting to teach the younger members of the group master their magic abilities in preparation for what they fear might be a war. Although a wizarding civil war is a frightening prospect to Hestia, she is confident her work with The Order puts her firmly on the right side of history and will stop at nothing to ensure those who deserve justice receive it.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Pure-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female

Sexuality → Pansexual

Relationship Status → Single

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Ravenclaw)

Family → Balthasar Jones (father), Alicia Avery-Jones (mother), Gwenog Jones (sister), Adrian Jones (uncle), Elodie Jones (aunt), Lucille Jones (cousin/colleague), Florence Jones (cousin), Genevieve Avery (cousin), Jasper Avery (cousin), Kingsley Shacklebolt (cousin/close friend/colleague)

Connections → Emmeline Vance (best friend/colleague), Frank Longbottom (close friend/colleague), Alice Yen (close friend/colleague), Harrison Bagnold (close friend), Ishaan Patil (friend/colleague), Amos Diggory (colleague/adversary), Alastor Moody (boss), James Potter (friend/mentee)

Future Information → Wife of Amos Diggory, Mother of Cedric Diggory

HESTIA JONES IS A LEVEL 8 WITCH.

#hestia jones #aja naomi king #how to get away with murder #htgawam #marauder #order member #ministry #magical law enforcment #magic #jones #aurors office #open #open witch #open order member #open lgbtqia+

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mydearsaddiary · 4 years

Text

Speakeasy Tonight Neil Season 3 Fanfic- Chapter 8

Author notes: +16, some subjects may be sensitive to some readers. (Violence and harassment)

Hello! Here’s chapter 8! Can’t believe Im almost done with it! I plan on going until chapter 10 or 11, but we are almost done with the Adler saga! Thank you so much for reading until here! Let’s go on until the end! Enjoy!

Candy (08/16/2020)

Chapter 8- Behind the eight ball

There was a tenseness in the air the whole day while I was at the Ice Box. Vince couldn’t seem to be able to quiet down. Cliff dried glasses that were already dry, Neil was on his third bourbon glass, Donovan grunted every now and then as if he wanted to disagree with something. Even Julius and Cleo sounded off key every now and then

Me and Vince going to dinner that night was messing with everybody’s head in different ways. You could feel in your body that it was like walking into the lions’ den, that you’re putting your life on the line. The anticipation never made me feel so alive before, even if I was scared. My heart palpitated inside my chest, reminding me to be ready, attentive and most of all: careful.

Vince was up and running, but I could tell sometimes he felt pain. His tough exterior and his Italian hot-blooded head didn’t permit him to show weakness for long. That was the Mad Dog alright, no one could keep him down more than a night. Some might say Vince is empty headed due to his lack of skills in grammar, math, manners or anything society deems essential to make it big, but they haven’t been in Vince’s shoes. I didn’t know what had happened to his parents although I heard something about a terrible death when he was a kid, but he was always a survivor. On top of it, he had a way of dealing with people much like I did. He was a salesman whenever he opened his mouth, and people were convinced by his words. And in case they weren’t, he carried his fists and his favorite gun “Pearl”. Having him at my side tonight made my fears controlled enough for me to be sure I could make it out alive out of the mayor’s house that night.

In contrast, there was the man I had fallen in love with. If Vince was the tough man that broke, bent and hurt, Neil was there to fix, put together and heal. The steady hands of the Doc were so much different than the vicious, trained fighter that was Vince Moretti. For this reason he had to stay behind. Someone like the mayor wasn’t his job and he knew it. I could also tell it bothered him to an extreme and that he wished he could do more than just sit still and wait. I reckoned it was the same feeling he had in the war

Whenever the riflemen went ahead to fight, as a medic he must’ve always stayed a little further behind, until he heard a cry for him. I must imagine when they came back many were bleeding and most died. He wasn’t in the thick of action but he always had to deal with the consequences, the aftermath. The admiration for him for doing so grew everyday. Not many would have been able to do it, and even for Neil, the darkness of it almost took over completely. So I couldn’t help but feel he was scared of this dinner, because its the action he wouldn’t be able to partake in, but was wondering if either me or Vince wouldn’t come back unscathed.

The only way I knew how to soothe him was to play leader, act confident. So my feet took me to him, and hugged him around his shoulders from behind. Although his focus remained on the bourbon, I could feel the tenseness in his shoulders ease

-Guess who called me this morning, before I came in?- I said and he turned his head to the side- Your mother

-Mother?-This time he turned to me. It was a weird thing hearing that word come out of his mouth. Being estranged from his family for so long... Hearing him mention a parent made him look younger and softer in my eyes. It wasn’t bad, it was just different- What about?

-She said she’s terribly sorry my last visit to Boston didn’t turn out the way it should have and we should come up again for a formal engagement dinner. I’m betting it’ll be incredibly ritzy and she did invite my family, which means Uncle Charlie will be there!

He seemed to ponder over it for a few seconds- And I’m guessing you agreed, so I have no choice but to attend another social gathering. If I knew a wedding involved meeting with so many people so often I would’ve suggested we did it all in secrecy

-Oh, don’t be a wet blanket! You only get married once!

-Thank the heavens for that- He raised his glass and I punched him in the arm, making him spill some of it- Ow! Hey! Fine, I get it. We’ll go.

-Great. It’s this weekend

-Isn’t it too early? With the whole mayor ordeal?

-It’ll be fine, it’s just a weekend. Besides, the wedding planner did say all the invitations finished being sent out yesterday!-I said with a lot more enthusiasm in me than he had in him. I would’ve taken offense otherwise, but it’s Neil. He never really made a big deal out of most things, wedding invitations included

I asked Cliff for a drink and for a while we were just sitting in a comfortable silence, I was about to propose a chess game when the phone rang

-It’s Charlie, MC. He wants to talk to you- Cliff said

I made my way there, thanking him before picking it up- Hey, Unc

-Hey, Kiddo. Been hearing quite a lot about the mayor from over here- He said cheerfully. He sounded healthier, which made me happier about my decision to send him back for a few weeks, even if it turned out being longer than I expected

-Yea, he’s been some trouble, but we’re actually almost done with him- I mentioned the documents and the dinner, catching up on all of the business recently. Then, we spent some time catching up on family and those little things about relatives like Aunt Mabel or cousin Katrina that didn’t really matter much but if was nice to talk about. I mentioned the Boston dinner and I could hear him smiling through the phone, letting me know he’d tell my family

-Listen, MC. It’s time I went back to Chicago.

-We’re almost done, Uncle Charlie. I’ll let you know!

-I know you were worried about my health. I’m glad you sent this old man away for a few weeks. I needed to call you and tell you that even though I set things up for the long term there for you, it’s time I officially retired from the Ice Box and handed over the keys to you

-Uncle...

-I won’t go anywhere, I’ll come in once in a while. It’d give me the chance to take it easy, now that I know the place is in good hands. We’ll still work together at the appliance store- He paused, thinking about his next words- But before I do, I can’t just drop everything on your shoulders. I know the Ice Box has risks and I’ve been in this business way longer than you have. I have plenty to offer before I step down for good. I wanna work on this one last job together.

I didn’t know if his desire was out of pride, or if he was missing his true home and family that he found within the Ice Box. I knew I couldn’t keep Uncle Charlie away for too long, but there was a resolve in his voice that I had to respect

-I could use you here, Unc- That was my answer

He laughed- I thought it’d take more than that to convince you. When we meet in Boston, I’ll come back to Chicago with you and Neil

-Sounds like a plan. I’ll let everyone know.

____

As the afternoon went on with preparations for the dinner I still had one thing on my mind. I needed to tell Neil I was expecting, that much I already knew. But either something seemed to get in the way, or I got too nervous to say anything. Part of me wondered if it was the universe telling me to tell him later. However, I knew that going to this dinner without telling him would betray his trust

At night when the Ice Box opened and people started to fill up the place, I decided it was time to tell him. With less than an hour before I left and everyone doing their jobs I pulled Neil away from the loud music and excited dancing to the back room

-Did you really pull me here for necking?

I laughed kissing him gently- I could have but... No. I actually need to talk to you. Remember I was trying to tell you something last week? I-

-MC, you in there?-I could hear Vince knocking- We have to go

-Oh for Pete’s sake, this isn’t happening tonight- I grabbed both of his arms looking into his eyes- I’m pregnant.

His eyes weren’t wide with surprise, but the shock was visible, more as if he had just realized something rather than just found something out. His brows twisted, trying to read in my face if I was joking or being serious. Something in my eyes must’ve convinced him, because he let out a sigh, and I could tell he was trying to find the words to say.

-MC!-Vince called again

-I have to go, now... We’ll talk about it tonight- I opened the door

-Wait a second...-He turned to follow me and I knew he was going to try to stop me.

Against my better judgement I forced myself to move to move faster- I have to go!-I repeated myself- There’s no other way

-MC!-I heard Neil’s voice but I was already far away. I could hear him following me outside but I stepped in Vince’s car and told him to drive away

I didn’t allow myself to feel heartless. A decision had to be done and it was the hard one. Although I knew within me I made the right choice by telling him before I went, I knew I had to go. I would probably face the consequences of it later, but what mattered is that the Ice Box would be safe, and Neil would still know.

-You alright, there?-Vince asked while driving

-Yes, there’s just too much going on at once- I answered- Once this night is over it’ll be a weight lifted off our shoulders. Are you ready to steal those documents?

-I am. Going to the John upstairs, his office is third door on the left and the documents are all in folders on the bottom drawer of his desk

-You got it. If you have time though, find out if there’s anything anywhere else, There must be some more important papers laying around.

-I got it, doll. You just focus on distracting the mayor

____

The moment Vince parked and the roar of the engine stopped, I swear I could hear both of our hearts struggling to not beat out of rib cages. Vince was in his fanciest suit, I was in my ritziest evening dress. He got out and in a respectable manner opened the door and offered his hand to me.

On the gate there were two mean-looking goons, keeping the mayor’s palace safe. We said who we were and easier than I imagined, we were allowed the entrance to the grand house that scared me but pulled me in just as much

When we stepped foot in the immense living room, the main door was closed behind us. The noise it made when it shut echoed throughout the room, as if it reminded us that we were outsiders, peasants and minuscule in the presence of the king, the mayor, who we could see ahead of us in the dining room. The table was set and the gigantic chandelier fell right above it like the sun of his world

-Welcome, Vince... Miss Granger. Sit down-He motioned to two chairs in front of his.

Our slow and steady steps took us to the dinner. Each step made my heart beat faster. Me and Vince hadn’t said anything since we stepped foot in the house, but we must’ve been making a pretty good job out of remaining stone-faced, because the mayor kept smiling unknowing of our plans to betray him in his own house. Vince had made a good job of saving his life. He admired him and now, he trusted him

We ended up sitting opposite to him, and the silence was almost unbearable. Adler’s eyes watched the both of us for a few seconds before he started talking- Don’t be shy. It doesn’t fit the personality of the Mad Dog or the Ice Box flapper... Oh!- He paused as if he had realized something- Don’t tell me you’re intimidated!- He looked at me- Let bygones be bygones, Miss Granger. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but... We’re all working to our mutual benefit now.

I breathed deeply, calming my nerves- That’s right. What matters for me is that the Ice Box is safe. As long as that’s the case, everything’s the cat’s pajamas

I looked at the food in front of me, inside I wondered if it was poisoned, or if he was the one fooling us. But with Vince not being the sharpest tool in the box, he dug right in, eating everything in front of him. He didn’t die or started getting sick so I safely assumed I could too

Once the anticipation of the dinner ended, the whole event was actually pretty boring with the mayor talking on and on. It reminded of dinners with Momma’s friends on Sundays. Suddenly, I was a little girl again and I couldn’t wait for it all to be over. This time, however, I knew more things were at stake. As we finished dessert a signaled to Vince discreetly with my eyes

-‘Scuse me, Adler. This was all fine and well and I’ll be right back- He started getting up- I need to go to the john. Where is it?

-Closest one is upstairs, first door on the left- He pointed up. He agreed and was on his way to, instead, steal all the documents we needed. The tick of the clock seemed to slow down, as if it was letting me know this was a very important moment, one that I would never forget

-You’re looking lovely tonight, Miss Granger- Adler said. It was his turn to get up, only to walk around the table and occupy Vince’s spot by my side. The gesture made my skin tingle, as if millions of ants crawled on it. I wanted to run, to scream and escape. However, if I could keep the mayor talking it’d be the chance we needed to end him for good

-Thanks, Adler. I see you didn’t give up on your advances towards me. Even though you know I’m a taken woman, engaged in fact.

-Oh, I know that- He touched my hair. Why was I shivering? Was I not able to control my fear? Why did his dark eyes scare me so much? I impulsively backed off, looking into his eyes seemingly brave- But- He continued either way- I know that women like you, Miss Granger, don’t consider themselves a lady, and I’ve no doubt that you’d hate to be treated like a porcelain doll, a gentlewoman- His face approached me- No... No...-He whispered- You’re different, MC. You’re fierce, you’re the leader of a group of gangsters. You got dangerous men tied on a leash.

-The Ice Box is but a small operation, there are much bigger competito-

-You’re right- He interrupted- But none of them faces the odds of society, of judgement and underestimation. No, you are an incredible woman. Any man would be lucky to call you his wife- He grabbed my jaw making me look at him. I was trying my hardest not to show any fear, but it was hard- And one thing you should know about me is that I hate when somebody claims a treasure before I do. Lucky for me, you are not married, just engaged.

-Mayor Adler- I tried to pull his hands away, but he was bigger and stronger- This wasn’t what we agreed on

-Here’s my new proposition!-He sad grabbing my jaw tighter, making me yelp- Together we should have control of the entire Chicago’s underworld. You’ll be first lady, my wife! And I’ll give you the keys to be the most powerful and biggest operation Chicago, no, the United States has ever seen. Imagine how much power you would give me. Imagine it, the First Lady of Chicago. You’d have your own empire!- His other free hand pushed my dress up my thighs, I could see the disgusting lust he had in his eyes

A force came upon me, I didn’t know where I found the strength, but I punched him on his nose, making him back away from me. I got up, pulling my gun off my leg holster and pointing it at him- Don’t you dare touch me again. I’ll never belong to a man like you.

It gave me satisfaction to see his nose bleed. But it died quickly when he laughed- Take her.

Before I realized two big men grabbed me from behind overpowering me. My screams must’ve been loud enough because I could hear steps coming towards us, and soon Vince had his gun to the mayor- Let her go!

-Vince, watch out!- I said as another one of his goons fired a shot, which hit Vince’s side. He groaned and collapsed on the floor.

Everything was slow once again. The red forming on his side, the blood gushing from his wound onto the floor. The sound of his beloved gun pearl crashing against the tiles. The sound of his body hitting the ground. The way all the documents we needed spread from inside his suit all over the floor, painting a white that contrasted the deep red around my friend. My uncle’s adopted son.

-You were planning to deceive me all along!-Adler said in rage as he saw the papers. Betrayal showed in his eyes towards Vince

-Don’t you ever dare to threaten my family again- Vince said in a quiet, hurt voice- Way to get your skull cracked

-You know what I do to those who betray me? I make them suffer- He approached Vince’s body on the floor. I sentence you to death.

-Wait! No! I’ll do it!- I yelled, but it was too late.

The two men holding me started to take me away until the whole scene was out of my vision. All I heard was a single shot

-Vince!- I yelled, to no avail

____

The next thing I remember was being taken down these dark stairs and thrown into some sort of basement. The two goons climbed back up and locked the door.

I took some time to weep. For my friend, for the fact that we failed, and for the reason that I didn’t know what I would do know.

Once I calmed down, I looked around. The basement was old fashioned, mostly grey. It was poorly lit and there was no sign of anywhere sunlight could come in. For a basement it was pretty spacious. It had a bathroom with a shower, two old mattresses on the floor, a bookshelf that was almost empty, some spider webs and a table.

I went up the stairs to try to open the door to find out it was truly locked. I climbed back down, defeated, and positioned myself on one of the mattresses, unsure of what to do next.

-I can’t believe he’s gonna keep me prisoner here...

-You best believe it. He will. And there’s no way out. Now what did little Miss Granger do to put herself into this situation?- A deep familiar female voice echoed throughout the room. From the darkness the once elegant figure emerged. The one who once was the main source of my troubles

-Vera...-I said looking up. She looked nothing like the glory she once was. Her dirty clothes and messy longer hair indicated that she was in there for too long of a time. It didn’t take me long to put two and two together and realize she had been there since she disappeared

-Well, this is a pleasant surprise. And so we reunite- She sat on the other mattress

-So you didn’t shoot the mayor and ran away from Chicago...

She snorted- You believed that story?

I shook my head- No, I just wouldn’t put it past you

-Nice of you to start with the unpleasantness, MC. Will make our time as roommates much more agreeable- She laid down- Now I’d like to get some sleep.

-Vera, how are you okay with this?!-I got up- We have to escape! He can’t do that

-I tried. There’s no way- She replied calmly, too calmly- I don’t care about any of it anymore. Politics, mayor, Chicago. It can all go to hell.

I observed the woman for a few seconds. The woman I knew would never even say “hell” before. I don’t know if I hated her more or was starting to actually like her

-Well, I ain’t staying here- I said going up to the door again.

I pushed my body against it. Pulled it with all my might, tried throwing stuff against it and everything I could. But it was useless. I was tired and I was getting nauseous. Defeated I walked back to where I was

-Finally giving up?-Vera asked

I didn’t bother answering- Just... Exactly how long have you been here?

She thought about it for a second- Must be... A few weeks now- She shrugged- I stopped counting, makes you go insane.

-He’s the only one who’s insane- I replied- I ain’t staying here!- I repeated myself, trying to give my confidence a boost. I tried to get up again but felt a pain. My hand instinctively went to my stomach, caressing it

She eyed me curiously. Then with amusement, which quickly turned into surprise-MC, you’re pregnant.

-Thanks for letting me know.-I responded sarcastically. Man, I was spending too much time with Neil.

Oh, man, Neil... I rubbed my eyes thinking about how much he must be going bonkers right now. Guilt overcame my body. He knew being the head of a gang meant I was always putting myself in danger. However, he didn’t sign up to be told he was going to be a father, and then have the gal completely disappear and have herself kidnapped. I was being so selfish. Especially after everything Neil had been through I just had to know something

-Is Adler gonna bump us off?

Vera stared at me- No... No- She shook her head- Adler only kills when he’s being merciful. Those he really hates, people like us, he likes to see them suffer.

-Sounds like the cat’s pajamas- I said unenthusiastically

-Don’t let him know you’re pregnant, MC. Don’t let him know- She said before turning away, falling asleep rather quickly for someone who was in her position.

I made a promise to come back home. To be safe. How many times had I said “I’ll be fine”.

Sometimes you just have to realize how young and stupid you really are.

____

Author’s note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! A sneak peak on what’s coming next:

MC and Vera are stuck in Adler’s basement with no hope of rescue or a way to escape. However, that won’t make the Ice Box Flapper give up.

“I have yet to find a lock I couldn’t open”

Thank you so much! Please reach out if you need anything!!!

Coming next: Chapter 9- First, do no harm

#voltage usa #speakeasy tonight #voltage amemix #voltage inc #voltage #voltage games #lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #neil dresner #vince moretti #1920s fanfic #voltage men #lovestruck usa #lovestruck game

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t-khalynn-tales · 4 years

Text

Provoking Ire

Author’s Note: Originally started out as “Hey, lets write a really short, funny scene with Mei making rude gestures at people!”

~Three thousand words later...~ __________

“Mei, ya sure ya wanna do this?” Tala handed Mei the practice weapon, frowning slightly. “ ‘Cause ‘m not sure…”

Mei nodded firmly, taking the weapon in hand. It was, essentially, a plank of stout oak, longer than she was tall, with a leather-wrapped handle meant for a two-handed grip.

~Yah. T uses a sword too,~ she added, pointing to her cousin’s sword and shield, currently being guarded by a watchful blue chocobo. ~An’ T practice fights with tall folk, sometimes.~

“Well, yeah. But issa little different! I started learnin' years ago! But Mei has only been learnin' fer a little bit! Maybe gettin’ a few more lessons first would be better…?”

Mei shook her head, expression confident. ~Is fine. Mei wants ta learn like this, Mei learns best like this.~ Shifting her grip a moment, she made a fist with her right hand, and pressed it into her own chest, near her heart. ~T can trust Mei, ok?~

Tala just sighed. “Alright.”

“Yo! You popotoes done dithering yet?” the big Hyur called out, shifting from foot to foot, his own oversized practice blade resting on his shoulder. “I’m a busy man, so if you’re just gonna chicken out, just gimme the gil now so I can get a drink somewhere.”

Both lalas turned towards the speaker. Tala just grimaced in exasperation, while Mei’s eyes narrowed in irritation.

“Is only NOON!” Tala protested with a huff.

The young mercenary laughed. “Yeah, so? In case ya hadn’t noticed, shorty, Gyr Abania is hot. It’s always a good time for a drink.”

The lala just shook her head and turned back to Mei. “Anyroad. Okay, so remember ta watch how he moves. He’s got th’ longer reach, so ya hafta be quicker ‘n ‘im. ‘Specially since ya only got a big wooden stick ta attack an’ defend with.”

~Duh,~ the younger lala scoffed, still focussed more on the cocky mercenary than the advice.

“Hey, is not MY fault ya chose th’ big giant sword ta learn. Issa different kinda sword fightin than mine, so ‘m not able ta help ya wi’ that. But fer basic fightin things, yeah.”

Finally noticing the cause of Mei’s distraction, Tala flicked her cousin’s forehead. Hard.

Mei rubbed at the new bruise. ~Ow.~

“Focus, Mei!”

~Fine,~ she pouted.

“So, one part of fightin I learned from Kori is stuff like this. Sometimes when people are fightin', they can do an’ say dumb things. Like, ta break yer focus, an’ put ya on yer back foot. Kori says, easiest way fer them ta do that, is ta make ya mad. Like, callin lalas popotoes an’ stuff. So dun let ‘im trick ya inta anger, okay?"

The other lala nodded.

“An’ dun forget, YOU can use th’ same trick on ‘im, too. So, like, Kori likes ta shout mean things at ‘em. Callin’ ‘em names, tellin ‘em ta stuff their, uh, stuff inta their own backsides, ‘n things.”

Mei raised an eyebrow. ~Oh? So how ‘bout T? What does T do?~

Tala flushed slightly. “Umm… well… a-anyroad. Even if ya can’t yell at ‘im,’m sure ya can come up wi’ somethin.”

After a moment, the younger lala just grinned wickedly.

“Yo, seriously! Any time now?”

Recognizing her cousin’s mischievous expression, Tala sighed. “Just dun make ‘im TOO mad, okay? I’d hate ta get run outta town fer bustin' 'is face wi’ my shield.”

The man scoffed. “I’d like to see ya try it, shorty!”

~No promises,~ Mei retorted, gripping the practice blade in both hands as she turned to face her current "tutor."

“FI-nally! Alright, pipsqueak, let’s get started…”

___________

The sounds of heavy clashing wood filled the air of the small sparring yard.

It was stupid. The whole thing was just dumb. Starting with a pair of novices, sizing each other up at the small town's only training dummy. Some unsolicited criticism first, then some rude gestures and snippy commentary in return, dutifully translated by a reluctant Tala. And now this -- a "friendly" challenge and wager.

Tala was clearly against it, but could only watch anxiously from the sidelines.

So far, Mei was doing remarkably well at holding her own, despite the fresh welts and bruises both combatants were now sporting. It seemed Mei did learn quickly when thrown into the fire. Especially since her opponent was a little impatient. And not used to facing opponents so much shorter than himself.

Mei was also exceptionally good at taking advantage of that. And at being a brat about it.

The lala ducked under a wide slash, then managed to counter with an upward swing that seemed almost impossible with such a large sword. The Hyur jumped back, but not quick enough -- the blunted wooden tip managed to clip him. He fell back with a curse, clutching his left forearm.

But Mei quickly stepped forward in pursuit, switching her grip and leaping up to deliver an overhead strike. The man barely managed to adjust his own practice blade to block, grunting at the force of the blow. A little unnerved, pulled back again, blade ready to guard.

“Shit!” he spat, tensing his arm, the pain still pulsing like a jagged flame, flaring to the beat of his own heart. “What the hell!”

Mei smirked and relaxed her stance, settling her sword against her shoulder and beckoning with one hand. The insult needed no translation.

~Bring it.~

His eyes narrowed. “You’re a spicy little popoto, ain’t ya,” he sneered in response, grip tightening in anger. “Looks like I’ll have ta stomp ya back into the dirt a bit!”

Both lalas blinked in momentary confusion, trying to make any kind of sense of that. But when the man charged forward with a roar, Mei set herself for another clash.

He attempted an overhead strike of his own, intending to smack the uppity lala on the head in retribution. But Mei angled her blade to deflect most of the power of the swing and side-stepped, letting his own momentum continue to carry him forward. As his sword made contact with the dirt, she managed to spin around, slapping his butt with the flat of her own weapon. With a yelp of surprise, he lost his balance and fell.

Face first.

He lay there for a moment in stunned silence, before scrambling to his feet again.

“You little…”

Suddenly, the energy in the air shifted. Like an abrupt drop in temperature, or a sudden shadow obscuring the sun. Where before there was an atmosphere of begrudging parity and competition, now there was an invisible miasma of sheer malice.

And for just a moment, it seemed the tall Hyur’s eyes glowed an inhuman red…

He lunged forward, much quicker than before. Mei managed to barely block the first wild blow, but couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the second. Or the third. With a gasp, the wooden blade fell from her hands, pain resonating through her arm.

The fourth blow hit her in the stomach driving her to her knees, gasping for air. Wincing, she just barely managed to duck and roll out of the way from the fifth strike. She crouched to get back to her feet, only to be met with a boot to the face. Mei flew back, landing on her back with a dull thud in a small cloud of dust.

“Got anything else, runt?” she heard him growl menacingly. Blinking, Mei made out the blurry dark shape looming over her. Belligerently, she replied with a bloody smirk -- and a single shaking middle finger.

“You little…” the dark shape raised his oversized blade up high…

...and winced when a heavy coin pouch struck him in the face.

“THA’S ENOUGH! Ya won yer stupid bet, now take yer coin an’ BACK OFF!” Tala yelled, brandishing a make-shift broken broomstick handle. “Or ya really WILL get a shield ta th’ face!”

"Yeah? How ya gonna reach that high, shorty? Stepladder?"

"Nah, 'm just go gonna kick ya inna crotch ta bring yer ugly arse-face closer. Might need a jeweler's loup ta find yer itty bitty manhood, though."

"...what…?"

"Jeweler's loup? Ya know, th' thing goldsmiths use fer lookin at really small stuff? Spirits, are ya stupid too, an’ nae just ugly? ‘M feeling sorry fer yer Mum."

“Shut up, or I’ll show you ugly,” he snarled, stalking towards the shorter lala -- and subsequently away from the one laying prone on the ground.

“Ya dun gotta get closer, yer ugly face is PLENTY UGLY e’en from REALLY FAR ‘WAY!”

Mei wanted to keep watching, but her eyes were just... so... heavy. The last thing she saw was the Hyur charging her cousin’s much-smaller form in the distance.

Then darkness enfolded her in its soft embrace, and consciousness faded away.

__________

There was something loud going on. Mei wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was loud. And annoying. And she was tired. Really tired. She just wanted to sleep a little more.

But as the noise went on and on and on, she realized that, as tired as she was, she wasn’t going to get that sleep right now. And that she was also not very comfortable right now. The floor was too hard, too dusty, and too hot. And something feathery hovering over her, cooing softly but insistently in her ear. Reluctantly, she managed to open her eyes, frowning against both the brightness of the sun, and at the pain echoing through her body.

She groaned silently as she tried to sit up. A blue feathered head helped support her.

“Kweh!” the chocobo scolded her softly, even as she felt healing energies continuing to flow from him into her battered face, easing some of the pain. Mei recognized Stalwart, her cousin’s blue chocobo companion, and gave him a little pat in thanks. She then turned her bleary attention to the source of all the yelling.

If she could, she would have laughed.

The big Hyur, the one she had been sparring with, lay in a heap nearby -- face clearly bruised and a little bloody. His nose was obviously very broken, and he may have lost a tooth or two. A healer in robes seemed to be tending his wounds. Another man, a Hyur, older and somewhat resembling the one bemoaning his smashed face, was standing over Tala, hands on his hips, yelling angrily.

Tala just glared back up at him defiantly, arms crossed. Despite one swollen eye, she was clearly unrepentant.

And finally, an armored miquo’te stood somewhat between them both, tail twitching ever-so-slightly. The manner of his stance and the state of his armor indicated he held some level of rank, as well as respect, in the small settlement.

“So,” the first man sneered. “What yer saying is, young Stefan here beat the little brat there in a spar, so YOU beat him up? Yourself?”

“No,” Tala corrected. “He baited her inta a wager. One he knew he’d win. Prolly ‘cause ‘es a lot bigger ‘n her, an’ also ‘cause he has more trainin’ too. But she managed ta get th’ drop on ‘im. He got ‘is feelins hurt, so got mad an’ beat her near ta unconscious. I tole ‘im ta take ‘is winnings an’ go, but he was gonna hit her again. THAT’S why I stepped in. Wouldnae been needed, if he hadnae got so mad an’ stupid.”

“Riiiiight. Short little runt like you managed to beat my boy Stefan with a broom handle.”

“Nope. Broom handle was mostly fer distraction. I just kicked ‘im inna crotch, then bashed ‘im inna face wi’ my shield,” she gestured to the round shield at her back with a thumb. “I e’en tole ‘im I was gonna do it, afore I did. Isnae my fault he didnae listen.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Khalynn, but the battering to his face wasn’t caused by just one hit,” the healer spoke up, continuing her healing duties.

The miquo’te looked at the lala inquisitively.

“Oh, yeah,” she shrugged. “He kept gettin back up an’ chargin in, so I had ta bash him inna face a few more times. Again, isnae my fault he's stupid. Oh, an’ ya might wanna get some ice fer ‘is crotch, too. I mighta stepped on ‘im a bit.”

Both men winced slightly, but the miquo’te’s lips twitched upward in hidden amusement.

“My boy has been training for over a year!” the man yelled. “He’s a good recruit, shows good promise with the greatsword! There’s no way…”

“Your boy,” Tala cut in sharply, “is undisciplined an’ too easily provoked. Also maybe a bit unscrupuled, ta be settin’ up wagers wi’ beginners, yeah? So maybe ya should teach ‘im better.”

“And who are YOU to lecture me, runt?”

“Miss Khalynn is recognized as a free paladin,” the miquo'te noted dryly. “She was also a volunteer in the healer’s division of the Twin Adders. And now she leads a small but honorable free company.”

The lala in question coughed, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“HAH! THIS runt? A paladin?”

Tala huffed, blue eyes glinting. “If ya want, I can bash YER face in wi’ my shield, too.”

“That’s enough, Dorian,” the miquo’te stated firmly. “Upon my honor, I assure you Miss Khalynn is indeed a free paladin. Unless you doubt me?”

The man immediately backed off. “No, of course not, Rakhal. You’re a man of yer word, and all. But, still, how…?”

“What, did you never witness Pipin Tarupin fight on the Bloodsands? Size does not count for everything.” Rakhal shook his head. “Now, back to the matter at hand. Miss Khalynn, do you swear to your earlier statement?”

Straightening, Tala nodded. “Aye, is truth. I give ya my word, upon my honor.”

The miquo’te nodded as well, then turned to the healer. “And Lucinne, what say you?”

The elezen woman looked up. “Well, the story plays out with what I witnessed when I got here. THIS one,” she poked her now bandaged patient, “was getting the snot beat out of him by Miss Khalynn. While THAT one, “she points to Mei, the lala in red being propped up by a blue chocobo “was laid out on the ground, with a boot print across her face. Her nose was smashed in, badly. Also there was deep bruising of her abdomen, and several nasty welts on her arms and face. Had to do a little conjury to heal her up a bit, but switched over to THIS one once Miss Khalynn was done with him.”

“Why didn’t ya heal my nose?” the young merc whined, gently nursing his bandaged nose.

The healer just snorted. “Because you’re a bully and an ass, Stefan. And it was about time someone put you in your place.”

“Now look here...” the bigger Hyur started angrily.

“No, YOU listen here!” Lucinne replied, just as hotly. “I’ve been out here in Gyr Albania since the breeching of Baelsar’s Wall. I’ve seen plenty of folk from all sorts of free companies pass through these lands. Some looking to help out restoring and reclaiming the land. Some looking to earn a quick gil. I know a thing or two about people. And Dorian, your boy is a bully. Like Miss Khalynn said, teach him better!”

With an angry huff, the healer gathered her things and left.

“Well then, I guess that settles things, then,” Rakhal decided. “Unless, of course, you have any further objections, Dorian?”

The big man mumbled something under his breath, but shook his head.

“What about my winnings?” Stefan whined.

At that the big man growled and hauled the injured young man to his feet by the collar, “Shut yer face, boy! If you think you’re good enough ta be showing off your blade skills, we’ll just have ta put ya to the test, right? Be ready fer more training tomorrow! At dawn!”

The two lalas and one miquo’te watched the big man drag the younger one away.

“I almost feel sorry for the kid,” he noted.

~Mei doesn’t!~

Tala laughed, earning a puzzled look from the armored warrior. She shook her head. “Issa bit long ta ‘xplain, Kal. But this is my cousin, Mei.”

He bowed politely. “A pleasure, Miss Mei. I am Rakhal'sae Moui, a free paladin like Miss Khalynn here. In fact, I trained with her for a time.”

Assisted by Stalwart, Mei had come closer to the chatting pair, and nodded back. The chocobo had healed most of her wounds by now, and she only had a slight headache. Nothing a good night’s rest and a good meal wouldn’t fix up. She nodded at the paladin politely, then glanced at her cousin to translate.

“Kal!” the other lala protested. “Ya know is just Tala. Dun start th’ ‘Miss Khalynn’ stuff again! An’ Mei says, ‘Is nice ta meetcha, too’ ”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Um, she can’t talk. But I can understand her. Kinda.”

“This sounds like an interesting story. Maybe you can share it over a nice meal?” he held up the pouch of gil that had been all but forgotten in the scramble.

Surprising everyone, Stalwart nimbly snatched it out of his hand. He prodded Mei gently until she extended an open palm, then plopped the pouch into her grasp.

“Well, guess Stal agrees,” Tala chuckled. “Lead th’ way, Kal.”

As they followed along, Tala turned to her cousin. “So, didya learn anythin’ from that mess?”

Mei smirked. ~Yah. T is REALLY good at makin’ insults.~

__________

A.N. 2: So originally, the plan was for Mei to be a Black Mage for DPS, with Dark Knight as a tanking job on the side, showing how Tala and Mei are kind of opposites -- White Mage to Black Mage, and Paladin to Dark Knight.

However, game-play wise, I rediscovered that I am in fact BAD at Black Mage, and DRK tanking just… didn’t feel right for me as a player somehow.

Luckily with Stormblood came Red Mage, a DPS class I was much more suited for. And with Shadowbringers, Mei was able to finally find a tank class that works - Gunbreaker. It’s been a lot of fun so far.

(And, thematically, having both Tala and Mei become primarily RDMs changed the focus on the cousins as well, but anyway…)

So in this story, which takes place a little bit after the close of “Greetings and Farewells,” Mei is trying to learn how to Dark Knight. Or at least, how to use the giant two-handed sword taller than she is. I know that the skills for the job have changed, and I’m no longer sure if Provoke was a thing for DRKs way back then, but I’m going with it anyway.

Also, to clarify - Mei is mute, but has the ability to "speak" with Tala telepathically. And like with spoken words, Mei can also convey a lot of emotions through the tone of these silent communications. Tala can sometimes project some emotions back through their link, but cannot manage to convey actual words.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Talathar Khalynn #Meimeililee Lilee #Tala's Story Time #gilgamesh-rp

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firelxdykatara · 5 years

Text

Alright, so I’ve finished the first season of VLD and had time to let things stew and simmer. Here is how I envision the Lion-Paladin bonds playing out (with bonus Castle inhabitants), and why, with the caveat that I am loosely adapting the VLD lore to fit the story, so if later information comes up as I continue the series I may either adapt it to what I’m building now, or disregard it entirely (so I don’t care if anything here is ‘wrong’ because it’s right for the story I want to tell).

Disclaimer: I’ve given the Gaang surnames (except Toph, who already had one), for worldbuilding purposes. This whole thing is like a giant Modern/Sci fi AU, I haven’t fully decided how the world of Avatar fits and I’m still on the fence re: bending, which wouldn’t be super useful in protracted space battles, they they may retain lesser bending abilities. Depends on how things shake out as I get further into the planning stages.

Black Lion: Sokka Nutarak

I know, I know, Lance is supposed to be the ‘Sokka’ of VLD, but hear me out. Sokka may have started the series as the comic relief in dire need of a whole lot of Respect Women juice, but by the end of the show he had truly come into his own as a brilliant strategist and leader. He didn’t start out perfectly suited to the Black Lion, but it was the one for whom he had the most potential. It seems to me that the Lions sort of function like the Sorting Hat--it’s not just about happening to find someone who starts out perfectly suited to pilot them, but who has the best potential to thrive with them. Sokka, who at the start is a bit of a joker who has a hard time taking his responsibilities seriously (he was This Close to washing out of command school entirely), truly comes into his own when thrust into the position of a leader. He has to learn to not only respect his teammates and their abilities, but to respect his own skills and potential, and it’ll culminate in him becoming a true leader who is capable of seeing the abilities of his people and directing them where they’d be best utilized, but also recognizing when to take a step back and trust that they can handle some situations themselves.

Red Lion: Zuko Himura

This one is a little more obvious than Sokka’s placement, but listen, the parallel between needing to earn the respect of his lion and needing to win back honor he’d lost is just too delicious to pass up. Obviously, since Zuko is starting out as part of the Voltron team, his personal story is going to be considerably different than it played out during AtLA. He’s carrying a deep, dark secret that’s going to come pretty close to tearing the team apart later down the line, and may have a moment of making the Very Wrong Choice (I know that Keith is revealed to be half-Galra later on, but Zuko starts out knowing full well who his father is [he still has the scar, and he’s very sensitive about it for obvious reasons] and struggles a great deal with the knowledge that he was sent to retrieve Voltron for his father and was never supposed to pilot one of the lions), and part of coming into his full abilities as a paladin and bonding fully with his lion is discovering and accepting his own self-worth.

Blue Lion: Katara Nutarak

This one was probably the hardest for me to place. Personality-wise, Yellow might seem like a more obvious choice, but in keeping with the theme of the lions choosing a paladin who would have the most potential to thrive and come into their own as they bonded, I went with Katara. I think her personal arc fits more with what I see as Blue’s--she is confident in herself and her abilities, but has trouble allowing herself to express it because she’s so used to being the Woman of the House that she never really had a chance to let herself be anything else. She wanted to leave home and go to flight school and learn how to fight, but her father was already gone to the front lines with the rest of the adults in her family, her brother was on the verge of flunking out of the command track, and she had the rest of her family to think about and provide for (giving her and Sokka a slew of younger siblings and cousins standing in for the SWT). She only wound up out on the edges of known space with the rest of Team Voltron because she heard that Sokka had taken a shuttle and hadn’t been heard from in over a day and she was planning to find him, kick his ass for scaring her like that, and then bring him home.

But damn if it didn’t feel so fucking good--no, so RIGHT--the second she slid behind the controls of big Blue and shot out into open space for the first time in her life, demonstrating a natural, raw talent she’d never gotten a chance to explore outside the crappy flight simulator in her room back home. And suddenly she was on a mission to save the universe. Her personal arc for the purposes of this fic is one of self-discovery and awareness, of finally shedding the shackles she placed on her own life since the day her mother died, of accepting her own strengths and using them not just to save the world, but for the sheer thrill of it. Of learning the joys of letting loose and being free. And of discovering she’s a damn good pilot.

Yellow Lion: Toph Beifong

As tough as Blue was to place, Yellow was arguably harder, because if not Team Mom, then who? But then, that was always supposed to be intrinsic to Toph’s character arc, wasn’t it? Going from this gruff loner who didn’t need help from anybody ever, to learning to rely on others and put their needs before her own? Learning to work as a team, learning to be the bedrock on which the others could always depend to be firm and steady. Yellow picked Toph not because she started out as the heart of the team, but because she needed to open up her heart in order to realize her true potential. And the thing about being the leg of Voltron, lifting them up and holding them together? That’s where Toph is truly going to shine, when she learns not to try and solve every problem herself but to give the others a rock-solid foundation, and to trust that they will carry out their parts just as efficiently.

Green Lion: Suki Park

Last, but certainly not least, there’s Suki. (I know, ‘what about Aang?’ Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten him--he’s coming up later.) Green is inquisitive and daring, and of the five of them, Suki is the one who has the easiest time bonding with her lion because she’s the closest to being self-actualized. I’m not sure how I’ll adapt the Kyoshi Warriors, but by the time Team Voltron forms, Suki is the one who is most secure in herself and her abilities, position, and worthiness to be on the team. Her personal arc, then, is going to be more external--she’s used to leading, not following, and will butt heads a lot with Sokka, as she doesn’t think he has what it takes to be a leader in the beginning (and it takes him a while to really start guzzling that Respect Women juice). Further, she’s got a great deal of pride (as she should, but pride goeth before the fall and all that) and even more than not trusting Sokka as a leader, Suki is used to doing things her own way and doesn’t hesitate to rush off on her own--daring can be a good quality, but it also veers all too easily into brash recklessness, and Suki has to learn to be a team player and consult with everyone before making decisions and haring off on her own.

Now, what about Aang, you asked? Which brings me to....

Avatar Castle: Aang, the lost prince

Aang: I slept for a hundred years in an ice berg! Allura: hold my fucking beer

No, but all jokes aside, this actually made the most sense to me. Like Allura, Aang is the one who, because of his past and his destiny, brought Team Avatar together. This is the aspect of the story I’m the least sure on at the moment, though I think he’s essentially the last remnant of the his planet which will be, functionally, the ‘original world’ of Avatar. His people had bending abilities, a la the original show, and the royal family was what brought the four nations together, and were the only bloodline capable of bending all four elements. They were a planet of peace, and Voltron was originally created by all four nations in concert with the royal family as guardians, once they attained space travel and discovered the brewing war. Voltron was a neutral party, meant only to protect its home planet, but the Royal family couldn’t just stand by and watch as planet after planet fell to the onslaught of darkness, so Voltron was ‘upgraded’ with offensive capabilities, and then bonded--meaning each lion would find and bond with a single paladin, to prevent it from being used for evil.

Aang was very young, only fifteen (aged up slightly, as everyone else is too) when the tide of war finally overtook his people. His parents fell in battle, followed quickly by the paladins, and in a panic (as his parents’ last words were to keep Voltron from the enemies hands by any means necessary) he scattered the lions and fled in the castle--but something went wrong. Instead of making it to safety, recalling the lions and searching for new paladins, the castle shut down, and Aang went into stasis, and would remain there for several centuries, until the new Team Voltron manage to find and wake him up. (I’m still fuzzy on the details, and some of this may change when I finish hashing them out, but anyway.)

AND THAT’S HOW I PICTURE ATLA!TEAM VOLTRON.

Good gods, I rambled on so much I fucking better sit down and write this fic at some point lmfao.

#voltron #atla #zuko #katara #sokka #suki #toph #aang #team avatar = team voltron + prince #voltron notes

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primaxtestobooster · 5 years

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purplesurveys · 5 years

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568

Have you ever had a really bad haircut? I haven’t had any truly awful ones. The only time I felt ‘meh’ about a haircut was when I went to the salon on my own and told the hairdresser what I wanted myself. I was never good at that kind of stuff, and always prefer being with someone so they can tell me if I’m headed somewhere good or otherwise. Did you ever order any clothes from the Alloy catalogue? I’ve never heard of that. What brand, color, and type is your favorite eyeliner? I’ve only ever used eyeliner at one point in my life and I’ve forgotten every detail about it. It was black, though. Do you wear eyeliner? I used to. I wanted to look nice post-breakup, so I learned how to do makeup to feel good about myself. Was there ever a time in your life when you couldn't cry? I guess when I have HAD to cry in the past, as in for a skit, I couldn’t. But I can be triggered and cry very easily otherwise.

What's your favorite type of yogurt? I hate yogurt, I hate everything that’s sour (except for sour tapes, but even those I can only handle at a certain level of sourness haha). What posters did you have on your wall as a teenager? Wrestling. My mom took them down for no reason eventually, even though I loved having them up on my wall. What are your favorite type of calendars? I mean I don’t obsess over calendars enough to have a favorite type? so a digital one on my phone and laptop is fine with me. I do sometimes wish I was rich enough just to be able to spend on those novelty calendars with Audrey Hepburn photos and Monet paintings in every month, though. Do you have a full-length mirror? I used to but it got transferred to my sister’s room. I don’t mind it though; I don’t use mirrors all that much. When was the last time you bought stamps? Elementary school, probably. Do you have any overdue library books right now? HAH, yes I do actually. It was a book I needed to do a Powerpoint on, and I completely forgot that its due date was on the 4th. The fee is like ₱2/day so I’ll have to pay around ₱8 to ₱10 by next week, depending on when I’ll feel like returning the book. How often do you do laundry? I don’t; my mom prefers to do it herself. Do you have a piggy bank? Maybe as a kid, but I never took it seriously because I didn’t sit well with the fact that I couldn’t see the money I’ve been saving. I’ve stuck with a good old wallet ever since, just so I can know my progress. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? I don’t, actually. I wonder what numbers I used to secure my locks :o What's your favorite DIY crafts youtube channel? Aren’t a lot of those misleading and downright fake? Could you spend hours on pinterest? I’ve never spent more than five minutes at one time on that website/app. Do you own plaid pants? Nah, it’s not really my style. Have you ever had to wear a school uniform? I had to wear my school’s uniform for 14 straight years. All I ever wore Monday through Friday for that span of time. What was your high school's mascot? We don’t have a mascot; we just have school colors. What were your high school's team colors? Gold, white, blue. Who were your best friends in high school? Angela, Gabie, Athenna, and Sofie. Others I was close with were Chelsea, Kaira, and Fern. Who was your first boyfriend or girlfriend? Gab. Have you ever been to Chicago? Nope but it’s a dream. If yes, what do you like best about it? The FOOD, the culture, the museums. Have you ever stayed in a hostel? Nope, never been. Would you rather sleep on the top bunk or bottom bunk? Bottom. I wouldn’t like sleeping somewhere that felt unnatural, and lying down way high from the floor is definitely one of those things. Do you love camping? I’ve never tried, so I don’t know. Would you rather sleep in a tent or under the stars? Lie under the stars for as long as I can, then pass out in a tent. What insects are you afraid of? Cockroaches. Have you ever had a secret admirer that left you notes? I haven’t. Are you close with your cousins? I have a good relationship with most of my cousins, mom’s side; but I’m especially close with my eldest cousin, who I essentially view as my older brother. I’m so-so with cousins on my dad’s side - we were very close as kids, but they moved further to the south and I never really get to see them anymore, so we grew more shy as the years passed. Are you close to any aunts or uncles? I love my mom’s cousins; they’re all younger than her and they’re mostly late Gen X-ers so they’re more hip and cool hahaha. I wouldn’t say we’re close but they are definitely much easier to talk to than other older relatives. Are you close to your grandparents? I seldom get to see my paternal grandparents because they live with the ^ same cousins I’ve since grown quite distant from, so I wouldn’t say I’m close to them but of course I love them all the same. I was very close with my maternal grandfather when he was still alive as I always knew what to do to make him laugh; and I am also crazy for my maternal grandmother, although in the last few years she’s been all about Jesus so sometimes it gets a little draining hearing about how I should always pray and that “God can answer all [my] problems.” Still love her loads, though. Who betrayed your trust? A friend did, many years ago. Who was your first best friend (apart from a sibling)? Bold of you to assume a sibling was my first best friend, because you’re wrong lol. I’d consider this girl we calle Kaye the first one; we were class number buddies in Kinder 1 (I was 4, she was 5) so we got close quickly. She changed schools by Grade 1 and I haven’t talked to her since, but I still remember her fondly. What was your favorite thing to do at sleepovers when you were younger? I was never allowed at sleepovers when I was a kid. What kind of popcorn is your favorite? Sweet-flavored ones. I could never take dry-ass plain/salted popcorn. It has to be something like salted caramel or parmesan. Does your town have a big fountain in it? If we do have one, I’ve never seen it. But I’m pretty sure we don’t. What is your town known for? For being on a mountain and being ridiculously hard to get to because 1) of its winding, accident-prone roads, and 2) IT’S ON A MOUNTAIN. I live in the area of Antipolo just before you start to go up, so I don’t get offended much by the complaints of everyone else; but I’m in solidarity nonetheless with the ~mountain-dwellers~ just because I used to go to school in upper Antipolo. Do you currently live in the city you grew up in? I mostly grew up in Antipolo, so yes I still live here. I did live in Manila in my early childhood but that time was much shorter than the time I’ve spent in my current city. What's one way in which you're behind the times? I hate Minecraft and I hate Fortnite even more. What's one way in which you're still a child? I love coloring books :) What's one way in which you're old? I have a bad back. Do you feel old or young? Or do you feel both at different times? Definitely feel a bit of both, depending on my mood. The perfect example could be that I can be annoyed seeing younger kids make so much noise, but the next day I can be exactly like those kids making a bunch of noise with my friends. How old are you? I am 21. Do you know what you want to do for your next birthday? No, not yet. Quite early to think about at this point, really. If yes, what is it? A private dinner would already sound perfect. What is the last new thing you discovered that was really good? Vaping. I mean don’t try it if you haven’t already, but yeah. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Tbh if my mom came home carrying a box of Yellow Cab pizza. AKA something that would NEVER happen; she snobs Yellow Cab cos she thinks they’re too expensive for pizza. Do you usually forgive when someone hurts your or try to get revenge? I get my revenge, subtly. Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? Our subject Language, which was mandatory back in elementary school, was literally basic English grammar. Not everyone in my former school spoke fluent English so a lot of them weren’t all that good at the subject; but for people like me who had a solid grasp of English and read a lot to begin with, the class was basically a breather from the other more difficult classes. If so, what? ^ I already told ya all about it. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? Skipping grades isn’t a thing in my former school which is honestly a good thing for me cos it would have bred a lot of competition. But students would have to repeat a level if their grades showed that they had to; I wasn’t one of them. What time of day were you born? 9:11 in the evening. What is the best hairstyle you've ever had? I loved my layered hair like 10 years ago. It was probably the only time I did something to my hair that wasn’t just a trim, so I enjoyed that experience. I also liked cutting my hair way, way too short last year; it was a bold move but I liked how it look, as did everyone else. Do you think you look better with dyed hair or natural hair? I’ve never tried dyeing my hair so I wouldn’t know. Do you think your look better with curly hair or straight hair? Curly, I think. Do you have bangs? I have baby bangs but they’re just stubborn hair standing around my head lmao but no I don’t have actual bangs. Do you think you look better with bangs or without? I haven’t tried getting bangs as an adult. I did look cute with them as a toddler though :( Do you think you look better with long hair or short? Long. What's your favorite rock band? Paramore, if they still count. Who's your favorite country singer? None. Do you ever listen to Celtic music? No. Do you listen to Hillsong? No. Did you try the unicorn frappuccino, and if yes, were you a fan? No I never tried it. Have you ever won a contest? I won a school quiz bee and an essay writing contest before, but I wouldn’t call the latter legitimate. It was just a writing contest about wrestling held by a local TV station and the three best entries got to win WWE t-shirts haha. Have you ever wanted to be a model, actress, singer, or dancer? I wanted to be a model when I was like 12. No fucking clue what was going through my head at the time. When you look at your baby pictures, do you recognize yourself? Sure. Has your hair color changed since you were a toddler? Nope. Do you wear matching socks? Yes. How many drawers does your dresser have? Three. Do you own an American flag shirt? No thanks. Do you own a British flag shirt? I don’t. The Union Jack got overused by 2011 Tumblr, honestly. Do you have a seashell collection? I don’t. Aren’t we prohibited from getting those from beaches? That’s the case in the Philippines, anyway. Do you have a rock collection? I do not. Do you decorate for Halloween? We didn’t decorate the house but I celebrated it with friends this year. What is your favorite thing to do in the pool? Float around and relax. Flamingos or pineapples? ??? Flamingos, I guess? Cacti or seashells? Seashells. Maple tree or palm tree? Palm tree. Dreamcatcher or wind chimes? Dreamcatchers! Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? I probably have at few points. Do you have a crush right now? Yes. What color was your first car? My first and current car is white. Was your first car used or new? I’m actually not sure. It was my dad who purchased it. Do you have a car now? Yep. What color(s) eyeshadow do you wear the most? I never wear any.

#surveys #survey

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phfanfic-diekoenigin · 6 years

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prequel: 008

SEPTEMBER 2010 (OSKAR)

Schloss Ludwigslust, Ludwigslust, Mecklenburg

Wednesday, 15 September 2010

His great-grandfather, King Heinrich Ludwig I of Mecklenburg, had shamelessly copied his Dutch cousin (and aunt by her marriage to his half-uncle) and created a national holiday celebrating the birthday of the monarch. The first Königstag, King’s Day, took place on 18 November 1919, only months after the Treaty of Versailles turned the Grand Duchies of Mecklenburg-Schwerin and Mecklenburg-Strelitz into the Kingdom of Mecklenburg. Heinrich Ludwig would appear on the balcony of Schweriner Schloss, wave to the gathered crowds of wellwishers and gawkers, and go back inside where it was nice and warm, leaving his subjects to show their love for their King by throwing street parties and getting drunk in the middle of the day.

King Heinrich Ludwig I died in 1954 and his son carried on the tradition. His great-uncle, Paul Friedrich II of Mecklenburg’s birthday was 10 September and, now, so was Königstag. Thanks to the fairer weather, Paul Friedrich took a more hands on role and began visiting Mecklenburg’s three exclaves in West Germany. Horst, Mannhagen, and Walksfelde were visited each in turn by Paul Friedrich, Queen Thyra, and their children during Paul Friedrich’s long reign.

King Paul Friedrich II died in 1982 and his son carried on the tradition. His father’s first cousin, Wilhelm Franz I of Mecklenburg’s birthday was 17 July, and, now, so was Königstag. Some argued for the date to stay in September as the front half of the calendar year was now overloaded with national holidays, but Wilhelm Franz refused, saying “my birthday’s in July” and that was the end of that. By now, the tradition of visiting the exclaves was well entrenched and much looked forward to by the tiny villages. After Wilhelm Franz married, Eleonora of Leiningen (his mother’s first cousin) joined him, and then their daughter a few years later. When the Soviet Union fell and Mecklenburg regained access to the two exclaves in what was formerly East Germany in 1990, Rossow and Schönberg were added to the rotation. Tragically, Wilhelm Franz would never spend Königstag at Rossow or Schönberg.

King Wilhelm Franz I died in 1992, leaving a three year old queen to carry on the tradition. His second cousin twice over, Karolina Augusta I of Mecklenburg’s birthday was 15 September, and, now, so was Königinnentag. Queen’s Day. Without a husband or any children of her own, Karolina Augusta was joined by her mother and brother during her visits to Mecklenburg’s five exclaves. Karolina Augusta celebrated her first Königinnentag in Mannhagen, and today, celebrated it in Schönberg. Over the decades, the festivities put on by the villages had evolved from small, locally sourced street parties to large, internationally sourced agricultural shows. It was not Lina’s thing. Like, at all. But as with everything else, she threw herself into it each year by letting her hair down (figuratively) and going for a more casual, approachable wardrobe (flat shoes) in order to join in the festivities while still looking wildly out of place standing near livestock and giant vegetables.

Officially, Königinnentag ended when the traditional work day did. Karolina Augusta didn’t hold to traditional work hours, and neither did Oskar.

Oskar Harald Christian Heinrich Philipp af Danmark was born on 19 September 1983 at Euphemiasburg in Bad Doberan, Mecklenburg (because hospitals are for the common folk), the second child but first son of Harald and Helene af Danmark. Although born in Mecklenburg with the intention of being raised in Mecklenburg, Oskar was baptised into the Church of Denmark six months later to appease his grandfather.

As male-line descendants of King Christian IX of Denmark through a succession of approved marriages, Oskar, his older sister Louisa, younger brother Axel, their parents and their aunt were considered members of the Danish Royal Family, and entitled to the rank of Prince or Princess of Denmark and the style of Highness. As male-line descendants of Frederik VIII through his third son, but not his first son, they were, however, excluded from the line of succession. Known to the rest of his paternal family as the Bernstorff branch (named for the palace his grandparents lived in until his grandfather’s death in 1991), they were the appendix of the Danish Royal Family, nice to have around but not essential.

This, rather dry and not entirely interesting, information was relied upon more than Oskar cared to admit. When travelling the country, the continent, or the world, there was nearly always someone who’d crunch up their face and ask why a Danish prince was a representative of the Mecklenburgish queen. He’d like to answer “nepotism?” but instead answered with a variation of “I’m a Mecklenburgish citizen, not a Danish citizen” and avoided getting into explaining Mecklenburg’s standard practice of recognising any foreign rank and style of its citizens so long as the style is not Royal Highness or higher as that’s reserved for very specific people within the Kingdom. If their historical style is Royal Highness or higher they are downgraded, which must ruffle some feathers, but hasn’t stopped Mecklenburg from becoming a kind of refuge for the royally and nobily overthrown.

His business card identified him as Prinz Oskar af Danmark, External European Policy Advisor to The Queen of Mecklenburg. Basically, it was his job to advise his cousin on all things Europe, but not Mecklenburg. Less basically, he got paid to read international news, travel the world, argue with his team about what they should and shouldn’t report back to their boss, and attend so many meetings with people he wanted to strangle half the time. He’d had the job since 2006 after Lina created the role especially for him. Oskar’s detractors argued he was too young, but Lina argued back that there still were plenty of old white men in the Königliches Ministerium für Auswärtige Angelegenheiten und Handel (Royal Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade, and abbreviated - as all the ministries were - as KMAAH), and how a fresh perspective was desperately needed.

Despite accepting the job, from the beginning Oskar felt his position was largely unnecessary. A fresh perspective? That was just a nice way of saying “inexperienced”. There were plenty of policy advisors in the KMAAH office. It’s the whole point of the ministry. For months, Oskar dug deep, settled into his fancy office in Schweriner Schloss, poached some employees from the KMAAH office, worked hard to prove his cousin’s faith in him wasn’t misplaced, absorbed as much as he could, soaked up the knowledge of his coworkers, asked question after question after question - except for the question that really mattered, the one keeping him up at night.

“Does my job even matter?”

It took months for Oskar to realise the answer was yes, a resounding, heartfelt yes.

Advising Karolina Augusta on political matters, on Mecklenburg’s role in Europe, the internal politics of her neighbours and how they might affect their homeland was difficult and challenging, but ultimately rewarding. Lina always made sure to show her gratitude. He felt valued, his opinion respected. But working so closely with family, in a world where public and private blurred, required a clear line to be drawn in the sand. Oskar was not her Private Secretary or Deputy Private Secretary. There were areas of her life Lina would not appreciate him putting his two cents in. It was sometimes difficult determining what those areas were. Oskar detested the line in the sand while also understanding the reason behind it. They were cousins, born a handful of years apart with similar outlooks and goals. To jeopardise that relationship because he couldn’t keep his opinions to himself would have been a terrible waste. As strange as it might sound as her family and employee, Oskar was proud to call Lina his friend.

And friends help each other out, even on a national holiday.

Die Papiere were delivered to the monarch of Mecklenburg every day of the year, twice if necessary. The blue leather bound box, secured by a not especially secure lock, would be filled with the previous day’s, or that morning’s, ministerial papers and other matters for the monarch to attend to. On the evening the fifteenth of September, the day’s second batch of die Papiere delivered to Schloss Ludwigslust had a strong foreign flavour to them thanks to the Annual Informal Meeting of German-Speaking Heads of State held the week before in Austria.

During dinner in the Schloss’s Jagdsalon, Hunting Hall, with over twenty of his relatives seated around the vast table between the large room’s deer head and antler decorated pillars, Lina had asked if Oskar could join her in going over the documents should she have any questions. Karolina Augusta I of Mecklenburg always had questions so Oskar said he’d be happy to.

And he was. Let no one doubt his commitment to his job, and queen and country.

After climbing several flights of stairs to the Russische Appartement (the smallest guest apartment consisting of only a bedroom and ensuite) on the second floor to freshen up, Oskar descended the Große Osttreppe to the first floor just after eight.

Two of Lina’s protection officers were on duty on the first floor landing, guarding the doors to Lina’s Appartement, and keeping track of those who used the Große Osttreppe, Wache Halle, and the Goldener Saal (where another pair of Lina’s protection officers guarded another entrance to Lina’s Appartement). The officers nodded their heads at him - he was expected - with one opening the double doors to Lina’s Vorzimmer to alert the Aide-de-Camp on duty that evening.

Oskar waited with the guards while the Aide-de-Camp went to tell Lina of his arrival. His dismal attempt at smalltalk was cut short when Major Lehmann returned with Lina’s permission to wait for her in the Empfangszimmer.

The Major stepped aside to allow Oskar to enter the Vorzimmer ahead of her. Lehmann was Oskar’s favourite of Lina’s three Aides-de-camp. Nowak was very serious, but Stenberg had no sense of humour at all. The Vorzimmer des Monarchen, the Antechamber of the Monarch, was rectangular and primarily yellow in colour due to the wallpaper and upholstery. Originally sparsely decorated to allow the room to hold small groups of people waiting for their turn to see the Dukes and Grand Dukes of yesteryear, the Vorzimmer was now decorated as a drawing room. Sofas and armchairs were arranged in a horseshoe around the fireplace, a couple of end tables, a few buffet tables and cabinets were carefully placed around the room to allow space for paintings (including an enormous painting of a cat-dog faced lion) and an unobstructed view out of the room’s two windows overlooking the grounds behind the Schloss. Atop nearly every flat surface was a vase, overflowing with flowers freshly cut from not only Schloss Ludwigslust’s garden, but from all of Lina’s residences across the country. Amongst the vases were dozens of family photos spanning decades, some stretching back before he or Lina were even born. He was sure he’d find himself in a few photos if he was interested in looking. He wasn’t. He’d seen them all before and didn’t linger as he headed to the open set of double doors to Lina’s Empfangszimmer.

Major Lehmann closed the doors behind him. The Empfangszimmer, Receiving Room, was once the Audienzzimmer, Audience Chamber, as the stately red colour of the wallpaper reminded any visitors aware of the Schloss’s history. Once upon a time, when the court was permanently based in Schloss Ludwigslust, this room was used to receive official guests and hear petitions. The Ducal and Grand Ducal Thrones used by his ancestors were now in Euphemiasburg’s Museum Wing. The Empfangszimmer was now decorated in a similar fashion to the Vorzimmer, though more formally, with fewer flowers and any photographs being of current and former heads of state instead of family members. None of the Vorzimmer’s four sets of double doors were ‘false’, they all leaded somewhere. The same could not be said for the Empfangszimmer’s four sets of double doors. Two were ‘false’ and leaded nowhere revealing only sections of the Schloss’s central heating system. All sets of doors were identically designed to keep the room symmetrical.

The Empfangszimmer had one final door, a ‘hidden’ one. Much smaller in height and disguised to blend into the red wallpaper and white and gold trimmed wooden panelling of the room, this door lead to Lina’s Schlafzimmer, her bedroom. Schloss Ludwigslust had several of these hidden doors, some for staff use, others for the Schloss’s residents and guests, and none of them truly ‘hidden’ if you knew what to look for, or happened to notice the doorknob.

Oskar took a spot in front of the large mirror on the wall between the room’s two windows (most rooms in the Schloss had only one or two windows). The doors connecting the Empfangszimmer and Lina’s Studie was open and Oskar could hear Lina talking to someone. With the only other sound in the room being the soft ticking clock on the mantelpiece, it became impossible not to overhear his cousin in the next room. He tried to distract himself by focusing on the gold framed mirror. Mirror technology was not the best when the Schloss had been built so the two metre tall mirror was actually made up of several pieces. Why hasn’t Lina replaced the small panes with one single piece? Yeah, yeah, they were original to the room -

Yeah, it wasn’t working. He could still hear everything in the next room.

She was on the phone.

“-until November.” Pause. “Maybe. I hope so.” Pause. “Next year. Spring, after Easter, I’d imagine.” Pause. “Well, your summers are terrible so-” Pause. “They are not! We get a lot of sun here.” Pause. “We do not escape to Scotland. No one goes to Scotland for the weather.” Another pause, some laughter. “Okay, maybe some people would go to Scotland for the weather.” Pause. “Would you be able to talk again later? Oskar and I need to go over some things.” Pause. “About an hour?” A long pause. “Okay, ich werde bald mit dir reden. Tschüss!” Pause, some laughter. “Okay. Tschüss, tschüss.”

A few seconds later, Lina walked into the Empfangszimmer holding her early birthday present to herself snuggled against her chest. The female black and white Stabyhoun puppy, named Pavlovna, squirmed a little in Lina’s arms, eager to greet the newcomer.

“Hallo, Oskar,” Lina said, a sing-song edge to her voice, as she snuggled her cheek against Pavna’s fluffy fur. No one was immune to the charms of tiny, cute animals. No one included Oskar.

“Hallo, Lina,” Oskar said, closing the distance between them. “And hallo, Pavlovna.” He reached behind the puppy’s right ear and scratched, the little puppy leaned into his ministrations until Oskar moved his hand to rub the top of Pavna’s head, and then a final pat before taking a step back.

He didn’t bow and Lina didn’t expect him to. He’d already bowed to her that morning, and again when she returned from Schönberg (no one seemed to have a concrete answer for how many times one should bow to their monarch, but Oskar didn’t want to give any uptight courtiers any ammo on him). He would bow to her at least once more before the day was done.

“How’s Pavna doing tonight?” He asked.

Oskar had read the Dutch Ambassador’s birthday message to Karolina Augusta so he now knew Stabyhouns were amongst the rarest breeds of dog in the world. The Ambassador was happy Lina had purchased a Dutch national treasure and hoped it would help boost the breed’s profile outside of the Netherlands. If the Ambassador was hoping that Lina would breed Pavlovna and create some kind of Mecklenburgish-Dutch Stabyhoun Alliance, he was sorely mistaken. Lina didn’t breed her animals, not even the horses. She said it was because she didn’t have the time to breed animals. Which wasn’t false. She was busy. But The Queen was busy and she manages to breed Corgis like they’re going out of fashion. Klaus reckoned, and Oskar agreed, that the reason Lina didn’t breed her animals is because she knew she’d never have the heart to sell the puppies or foals, and soon Schweriner Schloss and Schloss Ludwigslust would be overrun.

“She’s doing well.” Lina pressed a kiss against the puppy’s head. “She had a big day today. Hopefully, she’ll sleep through the night.”

Oskar chuckled, “sounds like having a newborn baby.”

“Well,” Lina said, grinning and canting her head a little, ��she is a puppy.”

“And you want to go through all of it again?”

“Eventually,” Lina kissed Pavna’s head again. “Come on. We’ve got a fair bit to get through.”

“Wonderful. Can’t wait. After you,” Oskar said, gesturing towards the doors behind them. Lina spun around on the spot, her dress flaring out around her, and Oskar followed her into the next room.

Lina’s Studie, Study, was the third of four public rooms used by Lina on the frequent occasions she would conduct meetings or audiences, or host lunches or dinners while residing at Schloss Ludwigslust. The fourth public room, through the other set of double doors, was the Bildergalerie and Esszimmer, Picture Gallery and Dining Room, with its painting covered walls, small selections of family heirlooms encased in glass cabinets, and a long table and twenty-two chairs. When his great-great-whatever-grandfather built the Schloss, the Bildergalerie had been about thirty percent larger than it was today. As part of the Schloss-wide modernisation carried out by his grand-uncle in the seventies, Paul Friedrich turned the Galerie into two rooms, a smaller Bildergalerie and Esszimmer, and a private Bibliothek. It was during this modernisation ensuite bathrooms were provided for each Appartement. Thank fuck he’d been born after that had happened.

The lack of carpeted floors in Lina’s residences have been an unexpected blessing in the years since her coronation. From two, to three, and now four dogs in the space of just four years was remarkable for someone who’d never owned so much as a goldfish growing up. Axel had asked her how many dogs she planned on getting and got back “I shouldn’t suspect too many more” in reply. Axel’s expression meant he clearly found that a troubling response. Oskar agreed. Lina liked collecting and cluttering up her space more than people would assume from her polished, public persona. Four dogs were enough for one person living alone, surely?

(He then remembered the seemingly endless number of corgis, cocker spaniels and dorgis The Queen had and prayed Lina didn’t follow in her mentor’s footsteps in relation to dog ownership.)

While (often highly patterned and colourful) wooden floors were standard in royal residences throughout Mecklenburg, rugs and hall runners were also common. At least they were easily transportable and not too difficult to wash, Oskar thought as Lina crouched down and placed Pavna on the carpet next to the other dogs, her dress billowing out around her. Whether or not Pavna took the hint to join Nikki, Asta and Willa in their nap on the rug while Lina and Oskar worked remained to be seen. Lina had told them all about how stubborn Stabyhouns could be even after training.

Lina rubbed Pavna behind the ear, gave the older dogs a quick pat, stood up and gestured for Oskar to take a seat on the room’s only sofa. The sofa was hundreds of years old, and only comfortable enough sit on for short periods of time in hopes of keeping people from overstaying their welcome. Oskar took his spot on the side of the sofa closest to Lina’s preferred armchair, around the corner of the coffee table. Continuing the theme from the Vorzimmer, a vase of flowers and a couple of framed family photos sat atop the coffee table, in addition to two neatly arranged piles of paper and folders, a handful of pens and two glasses of water.

“Let me know if you would like something to eat, or something else to drink,” Lina said as she sat in the armchair on his right, a blur of red in the periphery of his vision.

Lina was still wearing her Königinnentag outfit. There hadn’t been time to change between arriving back at Schloss Ludwigslust from Schönberg (or Schönberg-Dosse to be precise and differentiate it from Schönberg-Nordwest) and dinner. It was a rare occasion indeed for Lina to attend an evening meal without a wardrobe change. And her cousins had teased her mercilessly about it. Now, Oskar supposed, there was little point in changing into anything but her pajamas and so Lina remained in her red dress and red flat shoes. The red jacket she had worn to Schönberg was draped haphazardly over the back of the two seater sofa. Oskar hadn’t felt underdressed during dinner, but he did now, having left his dinner jacket in his room. Ah well, it wasn’t worth the long walk back to his room to retrieve it. His black trousers, white button up shirt, grey tie, black cap toe Oxfords, and a three day growth would have to do.

“Will do,” Oskar said, leaning forward to pluck a folder from the top of the pile meant for him, labelled ‘Mecklenburgisch-Deutsche Sicherheits Allianz’ and stamped ‘STRENG GEHEIM’. “Let me know if you’d like any of my staff to get you something.”

“Not necessary, thank you” Lina said kindly and with a hint of smirk, “besides, I’m sure Axel is busy.”

Oskar laughed, “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

“And I’m going to tell him you called him your staff.”

“I never mentioned him by name,” Oskar said, leaning against the backrest of the sofa (which was even less comfortable than the sofa cushion), removing his favourite pen from his shirt pocket and flipping open the folder.

“You were thinking it,” Lina said pointedly. Oskar shrugged nonchalantly. She was right, of course, he sure as fuck wasn’t referring to Louisa.

“My brother could use the employment,” Oskar said, peering over the top of the folder. Lina pursed her lips but kept quiet. She kept a firm hand on the wheel of the bus of working royals, driving them where she thought they should go or be the most useful. She was supportive of all her cousins’ careers, but she really didn’t care what the non-working royal part of the family did so long as they were happy and not embarrassing her or the country.

“Possibly,” she said, picking up a pen and a folder of her own to read through. This one was labelled ‘Vorgeschlagene Streitkräfte-Beförderungen’ and stamped ‘GEHEIM’. “If only he would stop being so stubborn and apply for a position out east...”

“It’s a good thing we don’t have a teacher shortage in this country then, huh?” Oskar said. Lina scoffed, offended at the mere suggestion she would allow something as horrific as a shortage of teachers happen in Mecklenburg. “He wants to work in Wismar.”

“But why? Wismar is nothing special.”

“Ouch.”

“Wismar is beautiful. But it is as equally beautiful to half a dozen towns in V-R, V-G and M-S,” she frowned, deep in thought as she fiddled with the pen in her left hand. “He’s not hoping to live on the Karola is he?”

“There would be a long line of cousins trying to murder him in his sleep if he tried that.”

“Is there a girl I don’t know about?”

“No girl,” Oskar said. He didn’t think there was a girl currently anywhere, let alone Wismar. Axel was enjoying doing nothing for now, having no ties keeping him in one place for too long. Oskar didn’t really blame his little brother for wanting to take it easy after five years of study. Oskar’s own degree took only three years to achieve and he was incredibly burned out by the end. “It’s only been a year since he finished at Rostock. If he’s not working this time next year, you can issue a royal decree suspending his rank, style and title until he gets a job.”

“Because that wouldn’t be an overreaction. Or an abuse of my powers.”

“Not at all.”

“Or even worth doing at all since by law we recognise international ranks, styles and titles and you’re Princes and Princesses of Denmark in Denmark as well, so...”

“That’s a good point,” Oskar said. “We’ll just have to think of something else to get Axel off his arse and become a contributing member of society.”

Lina sighed, shaking her head, but Oskar knew she wasn’t too irritated by his shenanigans. He could be very charming if he wanted to be, and Lina was, you know, smiling and not frowning. But they were wasting time and that was something Lina could - and would - frown about.

Sensing his cousin was about thirty seconds from telling him to get to work, Oskar dove into the words in front of him. While he read and made notes in the margins (he should have brought a highlighter) about the latest reports regarding Mecklenburg and Germany’s mutual security alliance, Lina read through the proposed promotions in the five branches of the Mecklenburgish Armed Forces: Army, Navy, Air Force, Medical Service, and Reserves, approving, disapproving or delaying a decision upon further review, one after the other.

Oskar didn’t weigh in on domestic or internal military matters, it was literally not in his job description, but his top secret security clearance meant he could see, hear or read everything not classified ‘EXEKUTIVE NUR’. Promotions would never be stamped as such and Oskar knew nothing on the coffee table would be either. Lina would have gone through Die Papiere and set aside anything he wasn’t supposed to see. Anything with an ‘EXEKUTIVE NUR’ stamp was probably still in the blue ministerial box sitting on Lina’s desk. From his experience with being privy to Top Secret information, Oskar had no idea what kind of stuff would need to be classified for Lina’s eyes only. A plan for Mecklenburgish worldwide domination? The recipe for Lina and Fætter Philip’s secret sauce?

They worked in silence for several minutes. Notes were made, water was sipped, legs were crossed and uncrossed, and on the carpet in front of Lina’s desk, Willa started snoring softly.

Once Oskar reached the end of his folder, he closed it and placed it on the coffee table next to the other pile of documents. Another sip of water. He waited a couple of minutes, eyes wandering around the small room, until Lina was done going over the proposed promotions. She closed her folder shut and held out for Oskar to take and place on top of the ‘done’ pile.

“Okay, let’s get into this,” Oskar said, reaching for the rest of his pile. He glanced over at the pile closest to Lina, and saw that the Armed Forces promotions had been an anomaly, something for Lina to do while he read through the folder on Mecklenburg and Germany’s security alliance. Both piles of paper and folders were in Oskar’s wheelhouse. Lina had not been exaggerating when she’d said they had a fair bit to get through.

These were the days Oskar wished he got paid overtime.

Beneath the Mecklenburgisch-Deutsche Sicherheits Allianz folder was the primary reason Lina had asked Oskar for his assistance. The handful of folders contained several inches of papers and were labelled ‘Informelles Jahrestreffen der deutschsprachigen Staatsoberhäupter’, numbered ‘Eins’ through ‘Vier’, and stamped ‘STRENG GEHEIM’.

Almost a decade previously, Germany, Mecklenburg, Austria, Switzerland and Liechtenstein decided they wanted to get together once a year and talk about how German-Speaking they were (or ‘German-Speaking’ as Oskar saw it. He didn’t understand a bloody word of Alemannic German). One week from her sixteenth birthday, Lina (with Eleonora and a few dozen diplomats and their staff) attended the first Informal Annual Meeting of German-Speaking Heads of State in 2004, hosted by Switzerland. Each year, every September, the meeting is hosted by one of the five countries on a rotation.

As Mecklenburg would be hosting the next Informal Annual Meeting of German-Speaking Heads of State in late September 2011, a number of potential talking points had been proposed by KMAAH based on this year’s meeting in Austria. Oskar had taken some notes of his own during the meetings but as he didn’t have them on him, he recounted to Lina what he could remember and promised to bring her his notes the next day.

Lina detested the word, finding it cold and cynical, but she lived for networking. She understood, cultivated and wielded soft power like no one he had ever seen, preferring it over the considerable hard power she did wield as an executive monarch. Events like the Informal Annual Meeting of German-Speaking Heads of State were vastly important in Lina’s eyes and very much looked forward to each year.

Next year would be Mecklenburg’s second time hosting the meeting between representatives from Mecklenburg, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and Liechtenstein. Lina had first hosted the meeting in 2006, less than a week after her coronation. The other leaders probably thought it was a nice, welcoming gesture to the young queen. Oskar thought asking an eighteen year old to host an international event had been a big ask. Lina had handled it beautifully, of course, having attending the two previous meetings in Switzerland and Austria and knowing exactly what to expect, and what was expected from her.

So, it was sometimes nice to do the unexpected. Lina, along with himself and several of his friends in KMAAH, were going to use 2011’s meeting as an opportunity to angle for the eventual inclusion of Belgium and Luxembourg. If trilingual Switzerland was allowed in, then equally trilingual Belgium and Luxembourg should be allowed in too.

It amused Oskar greatly that if Belgium and Luxembourg were invited - and accepted - then the monarchies would outnumber the republics during the annual get togethers. More networking for Lina. Not that Europe’s monarchies needed much more networking with Mecklenburg. Lina had made it her life’s mission to cultivate strong - and in some cases, familial-like - links between her and her fellow monarchs and their families.

Aside from the proposal to include Belgium and Luxembourg, Oskar and Lina worked on a rough outline of key points from this year’s meeting they would like to carry over to next year’s: vocational training, cultural and social integration, etc. Major events - within and outside Europe - in between meetings would also be discussed in detail, with each nation sharing how they dealt with or plan to deal with that event. Some topics, such as how to preserve and promote German’s many dialects have featured at every meeting and always would, while Germany and Mecklenburg not-so-secretly wished everyone would just learn Standard German.

Included in the minutes from this year’s meeting in Austria were a number of proposals from KMAAH on where to host the 2011 meeting. Schwerin and Rostock made sense from an accomodation and travel point of view, but Lina was a fan of having the meeting in Neubrandenburg. Mecklenburg’s third largest city - and smallest city as Mecklenburg only had three - had fared poorly during the Nazi Occupation and even worse during the Soviet Occupation. Since Mecklenburgish Reunification in 1990, money and resources had been poured into the city to bring it on a level with Rostock. They were still a couple of decades off from achieving that goal, but despite the lack of suitable accommodation for the five countries and their delegations, Oskar understood Lina’s desire to show how far Neubrandenburg has come in the decades since the Soviet Union crumbled. However, the issue of where to put everyone may possibly supersede Lina’s hope for hosting the event in Neubrandenburg. Rostock - and Euphemiasburg - was more suited to this type of large scale event.

“We should have rebuilt Palais Neubrandenburg when we had the chance,” Lina said, despondent.

“We’ve still got a year.”

Lina chuckled, “my builders are good, but they’re not that good. Neustrelitz is only half an hour from Neubrandenburg.”

“True. But-”

“Yes, it’s still too far.” Lina didn’t suggest hosting the meeting entirely at Neustrelitz as it would be pretty difficult to show everyone how well Neubrandenburg was doing if they were in Neustrelitz. Lina reached for the square Post-It Notes and scribbled Palais Neubrandenburg and Neuer Standort?? then stuck the piece of paper to the coffee table. Oskar didn’t bother trying to suppress his grin. Baroness Amalia von Kettenburg, Historical Architect to The Queen of Mecklenburg, was soon going to find herself in charge of rebuilding the Palais.

Did Lina even have a Modern Architect?

“Well, we’ve been working for just over an hour,” Oskar said, glancing at the carriage clock atop the mantlepiece. If it weren’t for the electric lighting and the laptop on Lina’s desk, you wouldn’t know you were in the twenty-first century. Schloss Ludwigslust was a building stuck between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Lina looked at him, puzzled. There were still some papers in the pile to work through and therefore they were not finished for the night. “I heard you say you’d call someone back in about an hour.”

“Oh,” she smiled softly, “it was just Harry. He’ll understand if I call back a little late. And I am not leaving Die Papiere unfinished.”

“Why not?” Oskar asked and Lina did not like that question. She frowned and furrowed her brow, a tinge of revulsion on her face. “It’s your birthday. We can finish this up in the morning.” Or on Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday, or even Monday morning before the Royal Court returned to Schwerin and with it Lina to the Schloss and Oskar to his apartment in the city. “And it’s not even urgent. We’ve got about a year until the next Informal Annual Meeting of German-Speaking Heads of State.”

“We should also suggest a better name at the next meeting.”

“Okay, I’ll work on a shortlist and don’t change the subject.”

Lina sighed, “I have always worked through Die Papiere in one go. I don’t care what day it is,” she said cutting off his attempt to butt in. “If you want to stop, I’ll finish them on my own.”

“I said I’d help.”

She raised her eyebrows, saying ‘and?’ with a pointed look. So, he said ‘and’. Or, more accurately, ‘but’.

“But it’s your birthday. It’s his birthday, too, right?” Oskar remembered singing Happy Birthday to Harry last September during Lina’s twenty-first birthday celebrations. She’d finished all Die Papiere that day too. She did it every day. Birthday, Christmas, Easter, New Year’s. It didn’t matter. The country never took a day off so neither did she. Lina called the week between Christmas and New Year her ‘week off’. Which was a load of shit because during that week she still accepted Die Papiere each morning, took daily briefings, organised upcoming events, gave her annual New Year’s Speech, and hosted New Year’s Eve celebrations for her staff and their families at Schweriner Schloss. Oskar knew - everybody knew - he’d never be able to get her to take a real, actual, no-work-done day off, but maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get her to take half an evening off and leave some work for the next day. “Parliament’s not back for a couple of weeks. Die Papiere will be pretty small tomorrow. I promised I’ll help you with the stuff from the Informal Annual Meeting of-”

“You don’t need to say the whole thing again.”

Oskar closed his mouth and leaned back, pen in his right hand. He was close to getting her to agree but pushing too hard and too fast would force her to push back. Out of principle, out of her bone deep sense of duty - which was normally endearing and something to encourage - but fuck it, she was twenty-two and deserved the night off. He twirled the pen between his fingers, once, twice, three times.

“Do you have any public engagements tomorrow?”

“A few in Waren after lunch.”

Oskar doubted it was only ‘a few’. It was probably closer to six or seven engagements and a few walkabouts. But it gave him an idea. One that would appeal to Lina’s suppressed sense of spontaneity. Like, real suppressed.

“How about a wager, then?”

“You might have a gambling problem.”

“I bet,” he continued, ignoring her comment because the little red book in his room filled with past and open bets on the personal and professional lives of him and his extended family meant he more than might have a gambling problem. He didn’t have a losing money problem, though, since all bets were capped at a hundred Kronen. “I bet,” he repeated having lost his train of thought. “If we don’t finish today’s and tomorrow’s Die Papiere after breakfast tomorrow, I join you in Waren.”

“As punishment?”

“I don’t think Waren would like to be called that. You’re being pretty mean today,” Oskar said, Lina chuckled. It was also absurd. Waren was too pretty and charming to be considered a punishment. “But yeah, sort of. I was planning on doing absolutely nothing tomorrow. Having to put on a suit and play Prince Charming for a few hours would be a massive inconvenience.”

Lina frowned, not because she was pondering the wager but because she didn’t like him using the phrase ‘play Prince Charming’. Unlike Lina, Oskar didn’t see himself as being royal twenty-four-seven. It was role he slipped in and out of with ease. His job as External European Policy Advisor to The Queen of Mecklenburg meant he had a public role to some degree, but he didn’t see himself as a public figure, and he wasn’t a working royal like his parents.

“It’s a good bet.” It wasn’t. Lina’s slight eye roll meant she agreed it was a bad bet. There was no way in hell Lina was going to leave Die Papiere unfinished tomorrow morning. But if a shitty bet got Lina to take some time off, Oskar was going to take it. And hope Lina was going to take it too.

She did.

“Fine. I accept the conditions of the wager.” She stuck out her hand and they shook on it. Oskar made a mental note to add the bet to the red book. For posterity.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” Oskar got to his feet, leaned down to kiss his mildly bemused cousin on the cheek, bowed his head and told Lina to say hi and Happy Birthday to Harry from him. “And everyone else, too.”

“Okay,” she said, her tone moving from bemused to amused, “I will.”

Oskar went to the dogs and patted them good night. Little Pavna had snuggled up so close to Asta she was half-covered by Asta’s long grey fur. The four dogs barely acknowledged him. As Lina had said, they’d had a big, busy, exhausting day. The Schloss was currently hosting dozens of people happy to play, throw, swim or run with them while Lina was carrying out her official duties.

As he neared the door leading to Lina’s drawing room, Oskar paused and turned back to see Lina had gotten up from the sofa, going to her desk to retrieve her phone. She was grinning at the screen, typing rapidly with both hands.

“Gute Nacht, Lina,” Oskar said, smiling, the soft feeling of love and affection for his cousin coming to the surface. Startled he was still in the room, Lina looked up from her phone, and distractedly pushed back her perfectly secured hair. The grin she’d been wearing before grew into a wide smile.

“Gute Nacht, Oskar.”

The next day, after another raucous breakfast with his extended family, Oskar brought his notes to Lina’s suite.

They finished Die Papiere. Oskar still went to Waren. And it was six engagements. Two walkabouts. And a very confused media presence.

Translations:

Russische Appartement = Russian Appartment

Große Osttreppe = Great East Staircase

Wache Halle = Guard Hall

Goldener Saal = Golden Hall

Mecklenburgisch-Deutsche Sicherheits Allianz = Mecklenburgish-German Security Alliance

STRENG GEHEIM = TOP SECRET

Vorgeschlagene Streitkräfte-Beförderungen = Proposed Armed Forces Promotions

V-R = Vorpommern-Rügen, a region of Mecklenburg

V-G = Vorpommern-Greifswald, a region of Mecklenburg

M-S = Mecklenburgische Seenplatte, a region of Mecklenburg

EXEKUTIVE NUR = EXECUTIVE ONLY

Die Papiere = The Papers

Informelles Jahrestreffen der deutschsprachigen Staatsoberhäupter = Informal Annual Meeting of German-Speaking Heads of State

Eins = One

Vier = Four

Palais = Palace

Neuer Standort = New location

#dk: chapters #royalfanficcollection #prince harry fanfiction #royalfanficcentral

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idolizerp · 6 years

Photo

LOADING INFORMATION ON MAYDAY’S MAIN VOCAL, LEAD DANCE MOON YOONYOUNG...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Youmi CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 22 TRAINEE SINCE AGE:15 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): honey, youdoll (a combination of a her stage name and doll, on account of her delicate features) INSPIRATION: she fell in love with music after first listening to the albums of korean artists from the late 70s to mid 80s. SPECIAL TALENTS:

creating acrostic poems on the spot

holding out notes for extended periods of time

imitating cartoon characters

NOTABLE FACTS:

as a child, she suffered from a mild case of arrhythmia (slow beating of the heart).

she is the middle child in her family with an older sister and a younger brother.

she once mentioned in a vlive that her favorite artist is claude monet.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

after waiting so long to enter the spotlight, yoonyoung plans on putting all her efforts into making mayday a group to remember—even if it means playing into a character for the sake of maintaining a well-liked image. already, it seems like the company is pushing her into modeling, a ploy to attract more visually-inclined fans. building a large social media following is also in the works, her public instagram essentially turning into a fashion blog. outside of mayday (and the plans the company has for her), yoonyoung wants to improve her skills not just as performer but as a creator as well and put that composition degree to good use. she hopes that in the coming months, management will allow her to let more of her creativity show through in whatever way that may be.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

ultimately, yoonyoung wants to be able to put out her own music. that’s what it’s always been about, after all; sharing her voice, her unique sound with the world. her goal is to delve into self-production work slowly but surely. the first step, of course, is to have more creative input in mayday’s discography. after that, she’d like to do lyric work for other artists, and eventually release original songs. she wants to establish herself as a distinct voice in the korean entertainment industry, setting herself apart by giving the people something they won’t be able to find anywhere else.

IDOL IMAGE

be kind. be gentle. be loving.

“do that,” her manager tells her the night before their debut showcase, “and you’ll be the nation’s sweetheart in no time.”

she wants to tell him that’s what he said when she first became a trainee so long ago, that it’s been seven years already without a single claim to fame. and that’s not what this is about, no. it’s never been about the recognition, but the point remains.

she’s a nobody.

they decide to play into the innocence of youth. doll-like. someone to be cared for, bringing out the need to protect in others. in the weeks that follow their debut, she clings to her members for dear life, hiding her face in their necks, pink blush high on her cheeks. a soft-spoken gem, youmi is the girl who can do no wrong. she becomes mayday’s resident baby, doted on and coddled like something precious.

she’s shy, or so it seems, preferring to let the others take the mic while she stands back and nods her head in support.

her nature is also elegant. a subtle sort of sophistication made soft by fanciful berets and dresses with hanging white lace, speech formal and polite.

but the truth?

the truth is she can hardly hold her tongue when she’s in public, has to physically bite down on her bottom lip until it threatens to burst to keep her words at bay. the truth is she’d go all day in wearing pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt if she could, can’t stand how pale her face is made to look beneath the bright stage lights (longs for the touch of sun on that comes with memories of home), is constantly seconds away from bursting at the seams with all the thoughts and feelings and conflicting emotions she has bottled up inside her rapidly beating heart.

the truth is she’s swears and drinks and tells jokes that often go over people’s heads. she’s rough around the edges, sarcastic when the situation calls for it, and can’t stand backing down from a challenge. she thinks the world, as it is, could learn a thing or two from her, from women in general.

but people don’t want a country bumpkin who’s not afraid to get down and dirty. they want a pretty and silent thing, something to show off.

so she will be kind, gentle, loving for now if it means a future that is set in stone and a chance to grab at something more.

IDOL HISTORY

moon 文.

dalseong-gun, daegu. a place of sun and wind and everything nice.

she grows up surrounded by family, always. whether it’s watching her grandmother work magic in the kitchen or chasing her cousins through strawberry fields that stretch as far as the eye can see, she is never without warmth at her side. early on, she learns that love comes in many forms: her mother’s big bear hugs, yoonoh’s quiet reassurances, yoona’s careful guidance. all these things and more, such beautiful professions of adoration and love.

this is the life she lives. and there is so much good within it.

the dream doesn’t come until a little later. it begins as a sapling. she’s seven the first time she listens to one of her father’s old records. yoonyoung watches with wide eyes as he slides the disk out of its vinyl album cover with careful hands, setting it down on the record player. the room fills with crooning voices on top of lilting melodies, painting the most vivid scenes behind her closed eyes. a musical seed is planted that day, one of shimmering infatuation. it grows a with every waking moment.

musicophile. that’s the word her father uses to describe her, lover of sound. her great aunt prefers the term gifted. and when yoonyoung sings at dinners, hosts her very own concert right out on the front porch steps, her aunt says she’s got that god-given gift, a natural-born talent. the kind that takes you places. takes you far, far away from small towns like theirs.

in the coming years, yoonyoung dives headfirst into the world of music. her town is small enough that everyone quickly learns of the littlest moon daughter’s quest to become the greatest musician of her generation. the community pitches in to provide her with the skills needed to carry out such a huge feat. she’s taught how to place her fingers on guitar strings every sunday from mr. jung down the road and wakes up long before the sun to meet ms. jinhee, the kindergarten teacher, for weekly vocal lessons.

it isn’t long before the chance to prove herself presents itself in the form a nationwide audition from one of korea’s most renowned idol companies, midas media. her father drives the whole family out to the city in support of their future star. she walks into her audition with all the blind optimism a fourteen-year-old can muster, radiating confidence like no one’s business.

but all the confidence in the world can’t make up for the talent she so obviously lacks. when weeks go by without a response, yoonyoung is smart enough to know what that means.

six months later, there’s another opportunity to be had: 99 entertainment’s annual talent search. it’s a sign, she thinks, when the news reaches her ear during a trip to the farmer’s market. this time, only yoona goes with her.

the result is the same as last time.

still, she doesn’t cry. good things come to those who wait, or so her uncle always told her. if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

for the first time, her mother begins to show fear. fear for her daughter who dares to dream in a world as cruel and unfair as this one. in the late afternoons, the woman stands in her bedroom doorway watching as yoonyoung struggles through chord progressions, practices switching keys and shaping her mouth to allow for stronger high notes, better sound, and her heart aches in the way only a mother’s can.

“just let me try one more time,” she insists. “please.”

her mother never could tell her no.

yoon 倫.

shortly after receiving her letter in the mail. saying goodbye is the hardest part, and it claws at her heart so fiercely, she’s not sure the wounds will ever fully heal. family and friends gather at their house for her official send-off, bearing gifts and unbidden love and wishes of good fortune.

fifteen years old, and seoul is a city of endless wonder.

yoonyoung moves into msg entertainment’s trainee dorms with little more than the essentials—toothbrush, her guitar, yoonoh’s favorite stuffed bunny. it’s an adjustment, for sure, but it helps that she’s used to sharing space with others. if she stretches her imagination, it’s not too different from sleepovers with her cousins, all twelve of them huddled together on the living room floor. she tries to make friends with the other girls, get to know them and their stories. some entertain choose to her, but most prefer to keep to themselves. it’s hard not to stick out with her sun-kissed skin and heavily accented words, but she embraces her daegu roots.

a year passes in which she learns how to move her body in ways that don’t cause secondhand embarrassment. she’s not a dancer by any means, but she has to at least dance if she’s ever going to have a shot at debuting.

then a year turns into two with no clear vision for yoonyoung. they allow her to go to school for music composition in the meantime. she’s not stupid, knows it’s a means of distracting her from management obvious lack of direction, but she divides her time between classes and training as best she can anyway.

soon.

the word flits around in her head like a restless bird, wings forming hurricanes in her soul. there’s never a date attached to the end of it, simply the promise of an unforeseeable light at the end of a never-ending tunnel. every push for more information is met with ambiguity. she’s told to wait a little longer.

soon.

wasn’t it not too long ago that she was telling herself the same thing?

between cramming for exams, she works on bettering herself as a musician. picks up the piano and spends evenings studying black and white keys, trying to make sense of the notes in front of her. builds a portfolio of music, handwritten eighth and quarter and sixteenth notes scribbled on blank pages in between plucking guitar strings. writing lyrics, lyrics. so many lyrics. pouring her heart into every character, every syllable, aching for home. the isolation isn’t intentional. it just happens. it doesn’t matter. she’s stretching herself thin, but that doesn’t matter either because at least she’s being productive.

even if she’s been stuck in the same place for the past six years. even if her hope has waned over time, certain idealisms traded for crushing realism.

soon.

then one day, it comes. she can see it approaching, the light at the end of the tunnel. yoonyoung told that she’s been placed into a group slated to debut sometime next summer. it’s really, truly happening. two other girls have already been added to the lineup as well. yoonyoung has to pinch herself in the arm to make sure she’s not dreaming.

that night, tears stream down her face in rivulets, soaking her pillow. she laughs and laughs until she’s pink in the face, rolls around on her mattress and squeals into the sheets.

and to think, she’d almost forgotten what happiness feels like.

young 永.

it’s the birth of an era.

mayday debuts as msg’s attempt at a brand new, fresh-faced, girl group to complement their sister group’s trendy vibes. she’s thrown into the role of the regal doll, acting younger than she is all the while maintaining an air similar to that of a princess in the hopes stealing the hearts of many. they’re performing on music shows, making variety appearances, having photoshoots with established brands.

for a rookie group, they’re doing fairly well. it’s not the image or sound she’d hoped for, but it’s something. and that’s more than she thought she was ever going to get.

a week after their first comeback, a letter comes in from her mother. written on her favorite blue stationary in purple ink, her mother’s pen strokes burst pride and joy. at the bottom, the signatures of all the people she holds closest to her heart. yoonyoung rereads it three times before hugging it to her chest.

here she is.

a star in the making.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.mayday #id.kim sojung

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namjoonchronicles · 7 years

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endearing | nj

▶ summary: Namjoon almost rarely feels insecure, but there’s something you did that made him feel like he wasn’t your go-to guy, and it made him jealous.

“How does it feels like...?”

“What.”

“To be the reason behind someone’s ultimate happiness?”

Namjoon heard the rustlings through the hallway outside from his home office and saw you dragging the vacuum to the living room while he is scrolling down his phone in black long sleeves and messy hair. The air-conditioner is turned off and the doorbell rang.

“Coming—“ He heard you left the vacuum nozzle behind and fast footsteps down the doorway to the main door. He imagined you peeking through the peephole and opened the door when you deem it’s safe. “Mr. Kim Namjoon?” The mailer politely asked. A little hesitant and unsure but delivers it well. “I’m the wife...” you said, smiling at him. Your oversized t-shirt had your collarbone on peep display and you had your hair tied lazily in a bun.

“Namjoon...” you called, and he delivered a short but weighty, “Yeah?”

“Did you ordered something from WTAPS?” You raised your voice a little, enquiring him since you want to make sure that he did purchased the item that is being delivered to him. “Yes I did...” he answered, barely heard, but as matter-of-factly. You handed the digital pen back to the deliverymen and send him on his way.

The box isn’t very big or very heavy. You carried it without a problem, to his office where he sat on his chair by his desk, sniffing. Sliding the box next to his keyboard, you placed your palm on his forehead as he looked up intently while you squinted your eyes to justify whether he is getting better or not. He gulped nervously while waiting for your jurisdiction.

“Not as warm as I thought it would be... but not good enough to send you back to work. Are you hungry?” You sat on one butt and crossed your arm while you tip your eye down his pretty little fingers as he gathered the box to be on his lap. You handed him scissors before he asked for one.

He shook his head along with his shoulders. A cute habit you find very endearing for some reason. Gee, love does make someone stupid. His lower lips jutted out while he spread the scissor blades apart and dug it on the lines hovering over the cellophane tape.

“Look at how excited you are,” you smiled and hoisted yourself off of his desk, and grabbed his chin up to face you, so you could give a rough peck on the lips. Namjoon didn’t seem to be bothered by it, at all, because you usually do this. You started gathering his books, laying around the office and stack them on top each other as you spoke, “I’m going to bring you a warm red bean paste filled bun when I come home later.” Namjoon gets occupied with the box as you tidied up his office.

Namjoon took out the plastic containing the jacket he ordered, from the box. “...come home from where?” His voice sounds nasally, and throaty, it breaks your heart to hear him having to speak at this condition. But you were more disturbed by the fact that he didn’t remember. You glanced over your shoulder at him, go on tipping toe and placed a book back in its respective position on his wall renovated to be book shelves, and furrowed your brows but pressing a smile as you say, “Out with Seokjin, to choose Taehyung’s birthday present, sweetie, I told you about it yesterday...”

Namjoon caught the tiniest annoyance in your tone but refuses to let them beading more in his judgements so he passed, dryly, “Oh. I forgot.” It’s rather difficult to stay optimistic when he knows Seokjin had been spending too much time with you. The other week, you both had lunch together. Without him.

Namjoon knew that you were there at the building and you didn’t pay a visit to his studio when you usually do. Honestly, it was not a big deal? Namjoon taught himself. He was always thinking that it would be nice if you would spend time with his close friends, but this was too much. When Seokjin mentioned that he spent a day with your female cousin, he was already sensing that you’ve probably taken the freedom and space he had given to you, rather too infinitely.

The moment Seokjin revealed to him an info he himself as a husband weren’t well-versed in, Namjoon felt much betrayed. Namjoon knows you had step siblings. But that day Seokjin finished vocal training and leisured around Namjoon’s studio, to mindlessly telling him—your husband, to relay a message, “I would really want to ask her to seek law advice when it comes to this. At this point, I’m afraid for her...”

To which Namjoon winced, “Tell her that yourself,” he was facing away from Seokjin, avoiding eye contact so he and his emotions can subside better. “I’m trying, but I couldn’t get through, to her phone...it keeps saying that it’s not in service,” Seokjin frowns at his phone before tipping his head back, slapping his knee. A loud, “Ah!” came out from his mouth, “She did mention she was going to a spa today, how could I forget.” Seokjin chuckled and smiled fondly to his phone, typing a new message saying that he’s sorry for forgetting.

She didn’t tell me she was going to the spa. Namjoon clenched his jaws.

Namjoon caught Seokjin’s reflection from the metallic toy figure he had on one of his speakers. The smile on Seokjin’s face irritates him to a certain degree. Seokjin stood up abruptly and told him he was leaving and reminded Namjoon to deliver that message to you. Namjoon came home to an empty house. So he sat with his thoughts for about an hour or so.

His mind drifts back to when Seokjin sat with Jimin in the lounge sharing a pudding, Namjoon stood eaves-dropping by the racks. “And her father told her, that if her older step siblings come over and asked her for the land gerund, here’s what she had to do... and I told her, you’ll need a lawyer for that. So I gave her a phone number...” Seokjin slurps on the pudding while Jimin exhales, “Wow she really had it tough. And all we see whenever she’s around, is how carefree she is. I can’t believe she’s going through all that shit alone. Glad she has Namjoon-hyung around.” Seokjin agreed aggressively. “I mean how can those people ask her father to pay the 10K debts that they make, they are all old enough to make their own money...why pester her and her father?” Seokjin sounded very angry. And it humbles Namjoon.

Seokjin knew all this and he, a husband, didn’t? It’s unfathomable. And who is to be blamed for this? Why haven’t you tell him all this? Were you waiting for a good time to? Why did you hide all this from him? Why does Seokjin get to have this part of you? Why even Jimin knows this?

Why not me?

He thought about it so hard that he gotten ill for it. He came down with a fever in a middle of the night last night, so you turned the air-conditioner down low, tuck extra blankets on his side, woke up at 2.30AM to make him a warm honey lemon tea for him to take. He couldn’t move and he was shedding cold beads of sweats on his forehead and halfway down his face. You had to rub your hand up and down his arm, resting your forehead in between his shoulder blades, just so he could stop shaking. The next morning you called Seokjin to inform that he won’t be able to come to work when the truth was you forced him to rest and took his phone away while he was still weak. “Are you serious right now, Namjoon... I don’t want to scold you but you’re very unfit to work and you’re telling me that you’re okay? I’m sorry, BigHit won’t collapse to ashes just because you missed a day or two. Lie down.” You strictly pressed your palm down the middle of his chest.

“I have a few more tracks to go...” he mumbled weakly, lips pale and chapped, his palm, cold and the rest of his body is extremely warm. There’s really no stopping him, is there?

“I’ll let you work from home. Where I can make sure you aren’t dying. I haven’t used my annual leaves and I’m using it for this emergency.” You shot and Namjoon blinks away to the view of the curtain, knowing that there’s nothing he could say to make you change your mind.

“I can’t believe you overworked yourself,” you stomped out of the room and Namjoon lay in bed on his back, resting his wrist on his forehead, feeling the heat, emitting from his body like he was set on fire. Half of the day is gone and he finally found the strength to move his heavy body to the chair when you were doing the laundries. You brought the basket and walked past his open door. Slightly relieved that he left the door open so you can observe how he was doing. He almost always worked with the doors closed. It helps him concentrate more but he understood that you would hate that, so he didn’t. Something about your concerns about him makes him feel good about himself. That’s something he doesn’t like to share with anyone else—your attentions.

You noticed he moved from the bed so you unravelled the bedsheets and changed to a clean one. It’s essential to keep the bed sheets regularly changed, especially when someone fell sick. It was also a habit your mother had when you were younger. “Call me if you need anything...” you sang at him, passing by the door for a bit before going inside the laundry room, and threw all the bed sheets into the washing machine before taking out a vacuum.

Namjoon answered with a groggy, “Yes.”

With his half drunken honey lemon tea left on the desk, you took the mug away when he was reaching for it. “It’s cold. I’ll get you a new warm one and don’t let it sit. It brings you no good if it’s cold, Namjoon, please listen to me.” You hummed softly and disappeared. Namjoon rested his head to the desk that’s pounding out of context, arms dangling, his nose runny but no liquid is expelled, his entire body still aches even after consuming a painkiller and there’s heat all over his eyes area, making him feel impeccably miserable. It felt like he had been hit by a lorry and survived.

If this illness had come to this extent because all he did was overthink about you and your relationship with Seokjin, he’ll have to say something about it. He would have to let it leave his guts. He’ll have to voice it out. Only then, he’ll feel better.

Question is, how should he do that without sounding too harsh and possibly ignite another unwanted fight?

You came back with a new mug and warm tea. This time you placed a plate of cookies next to it and set them within his reach, before taking the WTAPS hoodie that he purchased and fold them in your arms. “...is this for Taehyung?” You asked and patted it twice, gently. Namjoon nodded once, clearing his throat while skimming his eyes over an article he was reading, on his PC. “Knowing Taehyung’s style, I wonder if he’ll be okay with something cheaper. That boy has a very expensive taste. This costs quite a lot too, right?” You asked. “Taehyung would be grateful for anything, really.” Namjoon’s croaky voice will need some getting used to. It’s like you’re speaking to a desert monster. The thought made you giggle. A cute desert monster.

Then, this monster called your name, gently. “Hmm?” You replied.

Namjoon beckoned you to come closer when he himself stood up and made you sit on his chair and him, cross legged on the floor so he looks up at you. His large hand covered both your knees as he spun the chair so you face him.

Then his hands fall in his lap, while his eyes shot up at you. “What’s happening, sweetie?” You smiled affectionately, drinking in his entire face and beautiful soul with your eyes. “You know I love you right? You’re everything to me...you take care of me, my food, my clothes, etc. etc...” Namjoon swayed his head to either side, as he speaks. Simply dazzling. “Namjoon,” you blinked at him. And by the looks in your eye, you knew that he’s beating around the bushes. You hoped that, with a stern call of his name, he would stop, and tell you straight what he’s been thinking about.

Namjoon inhales and exhales deeply as if he’s preparing himself to drop a bomb. “It’s about Seokjin.”

Your gaze fell to your fingers in your lap, knotting the together, just as you thoughts begins to the same. “He knows things I don’t. He speaks about stuff I know you should be telling me and not him...You tell him you’re going to the spa, you didn’t tell me that. I want to have surprise lunch with you too. I want to know about your family affairs. I want to—I just, I want to be a part of it. A part of you. I want to be included...too.” He blinks twice, eyes fidgeting to the sides as if he’s made a mistake or uncertain if he made the right choice of words.

Your hand extended to caress the side of his face, affectionately. Hoping that emotions you feel for him exudes through the touches. He clasp his hand over yours, and moved your hand to his lips to kiss your inner palm. “Sweetie...” you whispered. “I just don’t want to trouble you. You have your duties. You’re piled with work, I’ll only be an inconvenience to you... I never thought that you would feel... left-out...” you sighed.

“Please trouble me. Please continue to be an inconvenience to me. When we agreed to do this, when we agreed to marry, we promised to be each other’s strength and driving force. And we were doing so well, but I got busy and you thought I won’t give you attention when you need it and it just got to this point where—,” he pauses and just by a glance, you know he didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to understand what he meant, so he quipped, “But don’t give Seokjin, my job. You can talk to me about anything... I’ve talked to you about stars and constellations at 4AM—all my bullshit and nonsense, and you’ve embraced every each of it without a complaining one bit... so why won’t you let me do the same to you?” He sneezes. Very loudly.

You hurried to grab a tissue box and handed one to him. “My poor sweet baby angel,” you murmured, “I’m starting to think that you got sick because you’re jealous.” You chuckled. He opens his mouth to say something only sneeze again. “I am.” He sniffed, voice all nasally from the nose block. “This step sibling thing...” he started.

You held your tongue and told him that maybe, you’ll tell him after he gets well. It’s a lot of information to process. Egos, emotional turbulence, court callings, etc. It’s just too much for Namjoon’s poor health. But you know that you have to be careful. Taking too long to tell Namjoon the whole lot will bring up uncertainties and doubts in him, and the conversation you have today, will repeat itself. You told him to stay in bed until you get home from the outing with Seokjin. You promised him some red bean paste filled bun when you get home, so he held on every word.

“It’ll be short.” You smacked his lips with another kiss while his hand sliding down your hips, butt and thigh. He stayed laying on his side hugging his favourite Ryan plushie on one side of the bed. He had painkillers, puts on his colourful rainbow socks, and a book, nearby him in case he got bored. You took his phone away with you, “I’m taking this with me. Stay put. Use the house phone to call me, here.” You placed it next to his TV remote control. “I love you. Rest well. And I’ll be home as quick as I can.”

Namjoon nodded, bundled up in thick blankets, warm and fuzzy. Only his eyes were peeping through. He mumbled something but you couldn’t hear him so you pulled the blanket down a bit, just passing his lower lip. He groggily said,

“Can you keep me close,

Can you love me, most?”

Seokjin had probably reached here already but you took a moment to sit by the bed, your hand on the edge, drowning in Namjoon’s puffy blanket while he gaze to you, intently. You giggled and glanced down to the tip of his nose, “How does it feel like?”

He asked, “What?”

You murmur, and placed your face closer to his, “To be the reason behind someone’s ultimate happiness?”

Namjoon’s hand appeared from the depth of the blanket, to you, to fix the bang of your hair with the tip of his index finger, muttering, “I could ask you the same thing.” He gave a dimply smile that you simply couldn’t resist kissing.

You love Namjoon the most. The most endearing creature in the universe.

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dailykhaleej · 4 years

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Coronavirus: The trials and triumphs of UAE residents

Trials and triumphs of the COVID-19 fight Picture Credit score: DailyKhaleej

Dubai: The first case of coronavirus within the UAE was introduced on January 29, 2020. That’s round three-and-a-half months in the past. Time flies, you’d ordinarily be inclined to assume. However these are extraordinary instances.

Ever for the reason that beastly virus unfold its ugly tentacles, every little thing we’ve been pondering, saying or doing has revolved round COVID-19. However past the final fatigue that we’re all starting to really feel, there isn’t a denying that life as we all know it – why, even dying – has modified eternally.

Prayers being carried out for Jeuel G. Jomay in Kerala. The ceremony was watched by his household right here within the UAE on Fb.

Gasping sufferers gone with no goodbye; relations watching funerals of family members on Fb; contaminated {couples} having to depart younger kids within the care of others; tables turning on docs and nurses … COVID’s attempting tales are heart-wrenching.

However the unimaginable trauma however, there are those that are counting their blessings too, whether or not it’s a brand new mum beating the virus together with her just-born; a affected person coming off the ventilator after 20 days; or the UAE’s well being care group clocking file testing charges and its researchers reaching a remedy breakthrough.

A have a look at the trials, tribulations and triumphs of UAE residents for the reason that COVID-19 fight started:

The final trial

It’s dangerous sufficient to lose a cherished one, however not with the ability to bid goodbye takes away even the sense of closure.

THE WAY IT IS

World protocols on heath security, hygiene and social distancing stipulate that coronavirus sufferers should get handled in isolation, and even depart alone.

World protocols on heath security, hygiene and social distancing stipulate that coronavirus sufferers should get handled in isolation, and even depart alone, so one has no selection however to let go.

When Bangladeshi expat Tofail Alam, 51, handed away in Abu Dhabi final week, his spouse Nausheen advised DailyKhaleej her husband went to see a physician at a hospital in March as a result of he had a foul chilly.

Tofail Alam

“But he was admitted the same day and transferred to a public hospital for treatment. We lost the pillar of our family to the coronavirus pandemic. It is so devastating that I simply have no words.”

A pal who tried to contact Alam in hospital stated, “The calls never went through. So all I could do was ask the nurses about his condition.” Someplace alongside the road, he learnt that the daddy of two was no extra.

Funeral on Fb

Even in non-coronavirus instances, flight suspensions in latest instances have meant that some residents haven’t been in a position to attend funerals of family members in different nations.

Amongst them: A Keralite household within the UAE who watched the funeral of their cancer-stricken son Jeuel G. Jomay, a Grade 10 pupil at a Sharjah college, on Fb on April 16. They might not accompany his physique when it was flown to native Kerala beneath lockdown.

One from the album: A household image with Jeuel Picture Credit score: Provided

Jeuel’s funeral ceremony again dwelling started at 4am within the UAE. His cousin advised DailyKhaleej her household and Jeuel’s household watched the five-hour ceremony on Fb whereas the St Mary’s Church in Sharjah supplied a hyperlink to the YouTube livestreaming on its web site for members right here to look at the service.

“None of the flights was getting sanctioned soon. Jeuel’s father wanted to fly with him. But that was not possible,” the cousin advised DailyKhaleej on the time.

Equally, on April 17, Dubai-based Pakistani expat Ghulam Mustafa Awan watched the funeral of his father Malik Nazir Ahmad on video. Ahmad had died of a coronary heart and lung situation.

“I tried everything, but I couldn’t go and see the face of my father one last time,” stated Awan.

I attempted every little thing, however I couldn’t go and see the face of my father one final time.

– Ghulam Mustafa Awan

In each instances, COVID-19-related restrictions prevented their journey.

Double whammy

Telling a younger COVID-19 mom of three that her husband, additionally a coronavirus affected person, has handed on can on no account be simple.

However that’s exactly what Dr Samara Khatib, Marketing consultant Household Drugs and workforce lead on the COVID-19 ward at Mediclinic Parkview Hospital in Dubai, was tasked to do lately.

“We had to take the help of mental health professionals to break the tragic news to the patient, who is in her 30s,” stated the American physician of Syrian origin. “It shook us as healthcare workers.”

We needed to take the assistance of psychological well being professionals to interrupt the tragic information (that her husband had died) to the affected person, who’s in her 30s.

– Dr Samara Khatib

Coronavirus has struck different {couples} too within the UAE, which has meant they’ve needed to depart their kids within the care of others.

Dubai-based Suman Manning, who examined optimistic alongside together with her triathlete husband Shane Manning, stated her sister took care of her triplets throughout the ordeal. Though she confirmed no signs, she needed to isolate herself and inform her children and sister to avoid her, whereas her husband was recovering in hospital.

Suman and Shane Manning Picture Credit score: Provided

“It was a particularly trying time as the kids had just started the first week of remote learning and needed some kind of support,” she advised DailyKhaleej earlier.

‘We’re not invincible’

Engaged on the frontlines within the face of an invisible and yet-to-be-conquered virus, docs and nurses are in all probability on the highest danger of contracting COVID-19. Ask Reem Yousef, who works as an emergency nurse supervisor on the Emirates Specialty Hospital in Dubai.

It’s actually arduous. I’m actually carrying my coronary heart on my sleeve for my baby, Relle.

– Reem Yousef

“The Lebanese mum, who is still breastfeeding her nine-month-old baby, told DailyKhaleej: “It is really hard. I am literally wearing my heart on my sleeve for my little one, Relle. Yes, there is fear of contracting COVID-19 as we work 12-15 hours a day for five days. We try our best to manage. When I go back home, I take utmost care to completely sterilise myself before I hold my baby in my arms again.”

Reem Yousef with nine-month-old Relle Picture Credit score: Provided

Dr Khatib stated she checks herself for the virus not less than as soon as a month. “I am also very particular about hygiene. It’s almost as if I suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). There is no respite on the front line and when we see our own colleagues falling prey to the virus, we feel emotionally distraught. It makes us realise we are not invincible. But we have a responsibility to stay safe and healthy as we can pass on the virus to other patients or our families back home.”

Regardless of the very best efforts although, the tables do get turned typically. And when that occurs, the resolve to fight coronavirus solely will get stronger.

As a physician duo at Zulekha Hospital Dubai, Dr Nishath Ahmed Liyakat and Dr Unni Nair, who’ve recovered from COVID-19 testify, there was no manner the virus would have held them again from doing their responsibility as soon as that they had obtained the remedy and accomplished their quarantine.

Dr Nishath Ahmed Liyakat, left, and Dr Unni Nair Picture Credit score: Provided

Victor and the virus

Sure, the dismal well being disaster surrounding us does have its share of excellent news. Because the official tracker posts new instances day-after-day, there are appreciable recoveries too, with every corona warrior, irrespective of whether or not they’re a light or essential case, rising as an emphatic victor in opposition to the virus.

Communicate to sufferers who’ve turned the blind nook, and their phrases encourage you. Whereas some will let you know coronavirus isn’t a “death sentence”, others will say they don’t want their “hellish experience” even on their worst enemies.

I prayed arduous to God and positioned my belief within the medical workforce. Now, I’m getting higher day-after-day and can solely bear in mind these weeks on the ventilator prefer it was yesterday.

– Wilfredo

Both manner, there isn’t a bitterness and no taking away from the large sense of aid and gratitude on the highway to restoration.

“I hardly had any symptoms and it never felt like a death sentence. But now that I have completed my quarantine, I thank God it’s over,” stated one younger Indian lady who didn’t need to be named.

Wilfredo Picture Credit score: Virendra Saklani/DailyKhaleej

Wilfredo, a Filipino expat, who got here out of the ventilator after 20 days at Al Zahra Hospital, Sharjah, stated, “I prayed hard to God and placed my trust in the medical team. Now, I’m getting better every day and can only remember those weeks on the ventilator like it was yesterday.”

In Abu Dhabi, Raneen Abu Zaher, a Palestinian homemaker, and her new child son, Jad, who additionally beat coronavirus, encourage hope.

Child Jad Picture Credit score: Provided

The duo had been identified with the an infection when Jad was only a day previous. However two weeks later, once they bought the all-clear, the mom of three advised DailyKhaleej, “I tried to hold on to my faith, and prayed for my entire family.”

‘UAE will not let you down’

If there’s one factor any affected person within the UAE will vouch for, it’s the truth that they may not have been in higher arms. Whether or not it’s Liu Yujia, a 73-year-old customer from Wuhan, China, who was the primary affected person to have totally recovered within the UAE or Aubrey Escano, 27, a Filipina from Abu Dhabi who’s at present beneath quarantine, there was solely reward and gratefulness for the UAE for the style wherein coronavirus instances are dealt with.

One of the primary coronavirus sufferers to get well within the UAE Picture Credit score: Provided

Escano in her message stated, “I would like to tell COVID-19 patients not to lose hope, not to worry and continue the fight because the UAE will not let them down.”

The exemplary affected person care aside, the UAE has additionally hit worldwide headlines for finishing up a file quantity of laboratory checks for coronavirus. Based on the Ministry of Well being and Prevention, the UAE leads international coronavirus testing with 1.5 million checks performed for the reason that starting of the outbreak. The UAE each day testing common equals a four-month common of COVID-19 testing in different nations.

I wish to inform COVID-19 sufferers to not lose hope, to not fear and proceed the combat as a result of the UAE is not going to allow them to down.

– Aubrey Escano

Addressing a UAE Authorities distant assembly right now, Minister of Well being and Prevention Abdul Rahman Bin Mohammed Al Owais stated, “The UAE’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic is unique and different from other countries. The UAE has shown exceptional management of the crisis, whilst leveraging other countries’ experiences. However, the level of response was different, given the demographic composition in the country, which is home to more than 200 nationalities, and its distinct resources, readiness and experiences in many sectors.”

On Might 1, docs and researchers on the Abu Dhabi Stem Cell Centre additionally achieved a significant breakthrough with a promising stem cell remedy for COVID-19 sufferers.

The analysis workforce on the Abu Dhabi Stem Cell Centre Picture Credit score: WAM

The Ministry of Economic system even granted a patent for the event of the revolutionary methodology, which was administered to 73 COVID-19 sufferers, all of whom had been cured of the virus utilizing stem cells.

Researchers, who’ve accomplished the preliminary section of scientific trials, at the moment are engaged on demonstrating the efficacy of the remedy.

Now that’s no imply achievement, by any measure.

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