#poltical hot topics

[desturnoska]

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but  [ DESISLAVA SAXE-COBURG ], a [ 36 ] year-old [ CIS WOMAN ] has lived in [ WEST VILLAGE, MANHATHAN ] for [ ALL HER LIFE ]. This is the city of dreams and [ SHE ] knows it, because they came to NYC to be a/n [ LAWYER ]. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like [ TROIAN BELLISARIO ]. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!

TW: DRUGS, ALCOHOL. CAR CRASH, CHEATING, FAKE DATING

      Desislava had never been an ordinary girl. Born in New York, in the family of Kaloyan Saxe Coburg, Knyaz of Turnovo, and Elizabeth Wilson, she was going to be an successor of the Bulgarian throne, if her grandfather Tsar Petar wasn’t abdicate in 1945 and Bulgaria became a republic. But even when she wasn’t going the rule the country, she and her sisters were raised as royals since the rest of the world still accepted them as royals, and because of the fact they still was in the line of the successors of British throne since their grand father was forth cousin of queen Elizabeth II.

      Desislava, as Knyaginya of Turnovo, didn’t have exactly carefree childhood. Yet, she was born with a silver spoon in her month, but this came with relevant responsibilities - she had to learn bulgarian and french before she even started elementary school, attending different dancing classes, and studied Bulgarian and world history in every free minute and this continue until her teen years, when she finally raise her voice and call it it quit, wanting to be a normal girl. Her parents wasn’t happy about it but at the end they didn’t have any other option but agree with her, hoping it would be just a phase and she would remember her responsibilities as Knyaginya.

     Finaly being able to live as an ordinary girl, Desislava was able to do whatever other oeople her age did - she started going out more often, had different friends most of which was not the best company parents wanted for their kids. The money of Saxe-Coburg family had attractive force for any freeloader who were able to do anything to be around somebody famous and rich. Soon the young Knyaginya started to downfall - the parties she attended became more wild surrounded by a lot of drugs and alcohol. Pictures of these parties started appear regularly in the tabloids and Desislava became a hot topic. Kaloyan and Elizabeth did everything possinble to cover the stories but when Desislava and her best friend became a reason for a huge car crash luckily no casualties, Saxe Coburgs had to do something and they sent the oldest Knyaginya to a rehab at UK and then for a year in Bulgaria where desislava had the opportunity to think a lot about her life and her role in the Bulgarian royal family realizing how much this meant to her but also that she needed to do something more with her life and when she returned to USA she started study law at Columbia University. Along with her education, she also took her role as Knyaginya of Bulgaria seriously becoming a face of few charitable organisations.

      Desislava met Aaron, a son of investment banker, when she was 30 and they started dating.They was like a dream couple abd few years later Aaron proposed and she was happy to say “yes”.  The newly engaged couple was favorite to tabloids and they followed them around but Desislava didn’t mind to show their love being sure they could be inspiration for other people, But it seemed the happy fairtail was not going to last long. The poltical crisis in Bulgaria and the fact the court gave back some of the lands in Bulgaria to Kaloyan led to some death threat to the whole royal family and they were forced to hire security guards. Desislava was not happy because it took away her freedome especially since she couldn’t stand her guard Alexander which seemed mutual, Her only consolation was her fiance but everything fell apart when one late night she came home only to found Aaron with another women in their own bed. Not knowing how to handle it, Desislava ran away only with Alexander by herself and she didn’t even know how she ended up in Las Vegas, but more more surprising was her marriage to Alexander. 

Wanted connections:

best friends

partying buddies ;; a friendship that relies on nothing more than  going out and having a wild time

assistant;; someone who could help her with her work and also the charities she works on.

frienemies ;; they’re nice to each others faces and act like friends but are constantly talking badly about each other

friends turned enemies ;; they have been pretty close, but something changed and they couldn’t stand each other

exes ended on bad terms

exes ended on good terms

neighbour ;; they could live next door, across the street. maybe they hang out? maybe not? maybe there is some attraction, maybe they just find each other annoying?

a new friends;; people Desislava recently met but they are pretty close

casual hook up ;; they aren’t friends, but will call each other whenever they need a lil sexual intercourse. basically like a booty call.

relatives of her husband ;; family, friends, ex-lovers; it’s going to be interesting interaction so plese give it to me

co-workers

gym-buddy

a sibling she had no idea about - could be on her mother or her father side

[desislava-saxecoburg]

FULL NAME: Desislava Saxe-Coburg

NICKNAMES: Desi, Des. D

PRONOUNS AND GENDER: she/her, cis woman

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

HOUSING: Coral coast

OCCUPATION: Attorney at Fairford law

TRIGGER WARNING(S): DRUGS, ALCOHOL, CAR CRASH, CHEATING, FAKE DATING

ABOUT:

   Desislava had never been an ordinary girl. Born in New York, in the family of Kaloyan Saxe Coburg, Knyaz of Turnovo, and Elizabeth Wilson, she was going to be an successor of the Bulgarian throne, if her grandfather Tsar Petar wasn’t abdicate in 1945 and Bulgaria became a republic. But even when she wasn’t going the rule the country, she and her sisters were raised as royals since the rest of the world still accepted them as royals, and because of the fact they still was in the line of the successors of British throne since their grand father was forth cousin of queen Elizabeth II.

   Desislava, as Knyaginya of Turnovo, didn’t have exactly carefree childhood. Yet, she was born with a silver spoon in her month, but this came with relevant responsibilities - she had to learn bulgarian and french before she even started elementary school, attending different dancing classes, and studied Bulgarian and world history in every free minute and this continue until her teen years, when she finally raise her voice and call it it quit, wanting to be a normal girl. Her parents wasn’t happy about it but at the end they didn’t have any other option but agree with her, hoping it would be just a phase and she would remember her responsibilities as Knyaginya.

  Finaly being able to live as an ordinary girl, Desislava was able to do whatever other oeople her age did - she started going out more often, had different friends most of which was not the best company parents wanted for their kids. The money of Saxe-Coburg family had attractive force for any freeloader who were able to do anything to be around somebody famous and rich. Soon the young Knyaginya started to downfall - the parties she attended became more wild surrounded by a lot of drugs and alcohol. Pictures of these parties started appear regularly in the tabloids and Desislava became a hot topic. Kaloyan and Elizabeth did everything possinble to cover the stories but when Desislava and her best friend became a reason for a huge car crash luckily no casualties, Saxe Coburgs had to do something and they sent the oldest Knyaginya to a rehab at UK and then for a year in Bulgaria where desislava had the opportunity to think a lot about her life and her role in the Bulgarian royal family realizing how much this meant to her but also that she needed to do something more with her life and when she returned to USA she started study law at Columbia University. Along with her education, she also took her role as Knyaginya of Bulgaria seriously becoming a face of few charitable organisations.

   Desislava met Aaron, a son of investment banker, when she was 30 and they started dating.They was like a dream couple abd few years later Aaron proposed and she was happy to say “yes”.  The newly engaged couple was favorite to tabloids and they followed them around but Desislava didn’t mind to show their love being sure they could be inspiration for other people, But it seemed the happy fairtail was not going to last long. The poltical crisis in Bulgaria and the fact the court gave back some of the lands in Bulgaria to Kaloyan led to some death threat to the whole royal family and they were forced to hire security guards. Desislava was not happy because it took away her freedome especially since she couldn’t stand her guard Alexander which seemed mutual, Her only consolation was her fiance but everything fell apart when one late night she came home only to found Aaron with another women in their own bed. Not knowing how to handle it, Desislava ran away only with Alexander by herself and she didn’t even know how she ended up in Las Vegas, but more more surprising was her marriage to Alexander.

 The marriage brought a lot of attention and the new couple as well the whole royal family had to deal with,  It was like a nightmare for Desislava and she decided she had to leave New York. “Knyaginya Desislava and her husband Alexander decided to took few weeks off and would spend their honeymoon at Alexander’s home town Fairford" said the message send to the press by the royal family but it was a lie since the new family continue to hardly stand each other but the town seemed like a good place for Desislava to spend some time away from the tabloids. But once Desislava came in the small town she felt in love with the place and she decided she wanted to stay permanently

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

- best friends - partying buddies ;; a friendship that relies on nothing more than  going out and - having a wild time - assistant;; someone who could help her with her work and also the charities she works on. - frienemies ;; they’re nice to each others faces and act like friends but are constantly talking badly about each other - friends turned enemies ;; they have been pretty close, but something changed and they couldn’t stand each other - exes ended on bad terms - exes ended on good terms - neighbour ;; they could live next door, across the street. maybe they hang out? maybe not? maybe there is some attraction, maybe they just find each other annoying? - a new friends;; people Desislava recently met but they are pretty close - casual hook up ;; they aren’t friends, but will call each other whenever they need a lil sexual intercourse. basically like a booty call. - relatives of her husband ;; family, friends, ex-lovers; it’s going to be interesting interaction so plese give it to me - co-workers - gym-buddy - a sibling she had no idea about - could be on her mother or her father side

[exclusivenyc]

We just spotted DESISLAVA SAXE-COBURG ( TROIAN BELLISARIO ) hopping off a plane in the City that Never Sleeps! Make sure to send in your account within 24 hours and read our NEW MEMBER CHECKLIST before getting settled. Can you make it in the Big Apple?

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but  [ DESISLAVA SAXE-COBURG ], a [ 36 ] year-old [ CIS WOMAN ] has lived in [ WEST VILLAGE, MANHATHAN ] for [ ALL HER LIFE ]. This is the city of dreams and [ SHE ] knows it, because they came to NYC to be a/n [ LAWYER ]. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like [ TROIAN BELLISARIO ]. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!

HEADCANONS:

TRIGGER WARNING(S): DRUGS, ALCOHOL, CAR CRASH, CHEATING, FAKE DATING

  Desislava had never been an ordinary girl. Born in New York, in the family of Kaloyan Saxe Coburg, Knyaz of Turnovo, and Elizabeth Wilson, she was going to be an successor of the Bulgarian throne, if her grandfather Tsar Petar wasn’t abdicate in 1945 and Bulgaria became a republic. But even when she wasn’t going the rule the country, she and her sisters were raised as royals since the rest of the world still accepted them as royals, and because of the fact they still was in the line of the successors of British throne since their grand father was forth cousin of queen Elizabeth II.

  Desislava, as Knyaginya of Turnovo, didn’t have exactly carefree childhood. Yet, she was born with a silver spoon in her month, but this came with relevant responsibilities - she had to learn bulgarian and french before she even started elementary school, attending different dancing classes, and studied Bulgarian and world history in every free minute and this continue until her teen years, when she finally raise her voice and call it it quit, wanting to be a normal girl. Her parents wasn’t happy about it but at the end they didn’t have any other option but agree with her, hoping it would be just a phase and she would remember her responsibilities as Knyaginya.

 Finaly being able to live as an ordinary girl, Desislava was able to do whatever other oeople her age did - she started going out more often, had different friends most of which was not the best company parents wanted for their kids. The money of Saxe-Coburg family had attractive force for any freeloader who were able to do anything to be around somebody famous and rich. Soon the young Knyaginya started to downfall - the parties she attended became more wild surrounded by a lot of drugs and alcohol. Pictures of these parties started appear regularly in the tabloids and Desislava became a hot topic. Kaloyan and Elizabeth did everything possinble to cover the stories but when Desislava and her best friend became a reason for a huge car crash luckily no casualties, Saxe Coburgs had to do something and they sent the oldest Knyaginya to a rehab at UK and then for a year in Bulgaria where desislava had the opportunity to think a lot about her life and her role in the Bulgarian royal family realizing how much this meant to her but also that she needed to do something more with her life and when she returned to USA she started study law at Columbia University. Along with her education, she also took her role as Knyaginya of Bulgaria seriously becoming a face of few charitable organisations.

  Desislava met Aaron, a son of investment banker, when she was 30 and they started dating.They was like a dream couple abd few years later Aaron proposed and she was happy to say “yes”.  The newly engaged couple was favorite to tabloids and they followed them around but Desislava didn’t mind to show their love being sure they could be inspiration for other people, But it seemed the happy fairtail was not going to last long. The poltical crisis in Bulgaria and the fact the court gave back some of the lands in Bulgaria to Kaloyan led to some death threat to the whole royal family and they were forced to hire security guards. Desislava was not happy because it took away her freedome especially since she couldn’t stand her guard Alexander which seemed mutual, Her only consolation was her fiance but everything fell apart when one late night she came home only to found Aaron with another women in their own bed. Not knowing how to handle it, Desislava ran away only with Alexander by herself and she didn’t even know how she ended up in Las Vegas, but more more surprising was her marriage to Alexander.

The marriage brought a lot of attention and the new couple as well the whole royal family had to deal with,  It was like a nightmare for Desislava and she decided she had to leave New York. “Knyaginya Desislava and her husband Alexander decided to took few weeks off and would spend their honeymoon at Alexander’s home town Fairford" said the message send to the press by the royal family but it was a lie since the new family continue to hardly stand each other but the town seemed like a good place for Desislava to spend some time away from the tabloids. But once Desislava came in the small town she felt in love with the place and she decided she wanted to stay permanently

( rose, 28, gmt, she/her )

[herradhighpriestess]

Deliberate Exchange

Summary: Elka Green is at work the morning the Exchange. She is one of the hostages pulled onto the motorcycles and not released. Elka is married to a conservative judge, in a loveless marriage, there's all sorts of drugs, sex and violence and political references/quotes that could offend, I hope you enjoy, xoxo I don't own any of these characters etc.

Chapter One: A Personal Note

Elka Green climbed the steps of the Exchange building, her eighteen hundred-dollar Gucci heels sounded in staccato clicks on the pitted and well traversed steps of the Exchange.

She tossed her hair back and adjusted the silk scarf that was loosely wrapped around her slim neck. Elka’s dark blonde hair fell long past her shoulders.

A sharp breeze blew in her direction, and a single tendril of her macadamia nut oiled hair caught in the loose knot of her scarf. As the wind died down, the single strand of warm blonde hair pulled free of her scalp and settled in the silken valleys of the designer fabric.

Elka paused at the top of the steps when she heard someone call her name.

“Elka, hey Elka!”

She forced her lips into a welcoming smile as Jerry Reynolds jogged over to her.

“Hey Elka, how was your weekend?”

“Good morning Jerry, it was pleasant. Thank you for asking.”

Jerry ran a manicured hand through his seventy-five-dollar haircut. Elka started walking again and kept her matte lipstick smile fixed in place as she headed in the direction of an organic coffee cart.

Jerry kept pace and prattled on about his weekend, completely oblivious to Elka’s disinterest. She struggled to not roll her eyes as Jerry rattled off story after adventure about his wild weekend.

Elka’s smile turned genuine when Albert Phinney pressed a white lid on a recycled paper cup and passed it to her as she walked up. “Good morning Mrs. Green, I hope your weekend was well,” he added as she accepted the hot cup from his hands.

Albert watched her intently as she took a sip of the steaming soy concoction. She smiled warmly when the sweet espresso flooded her mouth and coated her taste buds.

“Today, it’s a soy hazelnut macchiato with a dusting of cinnamon and nutmeg.”

Elka took another sip as Albert whispered that he had added some light agave syrup. Monday through Friday, Albert made Elka a mystery espresso. It was a tradition that had started more than seven years prior and showed no signs of stopping unless one of them ceased to live.

It had been Elka’s first day at the Exchange, she had started on the lowest part of the totem, barely clinging to its wooden splinters. She had been obscenely early for her first day, not many people had been around. Albert had been brewing coffee and unwrapping and arranging sweet pastries and Bavarian cream filled delicacies onto plastic platters.

Elka had straightened the stiff collar of her stark white blouse and pinstriped blazer as she approached Albert’s coffee cart. He had offered her a warm smile and didn’t tell her that he wasn’t quite set up for business yet when he saw her nerves peeking out from behind her statuesque and stoic facade.

Elka stood a little over 5’8 and in her Jimmy’s, she came in just a hair under six feet. Albert’s smile broadened when Elka couldn’t decide on a coffee and held up a wrinkled, liver-spotted hand to pause her indecisive litany.

“Allow me to make you a drink not on the menu,” he had whispered in a low conspiratorial tone and bustled about steaming soy milk and adding an amber colored sweet syrup.

Elka had smiled gratefully and accepted that first drink which started the long-running weekly tradition of Albert creating her morning coffee. She always abstained from one of the tempting and delicious looking buttery pastries. Every great once in a while, Albert would top one of her morning espressos with whipped cream and fat light-brown raw sugar crystals.

Elka put a few dollars in the battered paper tip cup and headed to the large revolving doors of the Exchange with Jerry hot on her highfalutin shiny, leather heels.

Elka breathed a sigh of relief when Jerry said he’d catch up with her later and hopped into an already packed elevator to head to the bustling seventh floor. She casually waved at him and continued in her preferred solitary fashion of the carpeted floor of the Exchange.

She sipped at her macchiato and reveled in the sweet coffee as she readied her mind for the day.

Elka was Mrs. Elka Alsina Green. Married just under four years to Justice Calvin Patrick Green of the Supreme Court.

They had met when Elka had been a key witness in a defense case against a legal firm CEO caught up in a masterful Ponzi Scheme. Judge Green had waited until the verdict had come in and had slammed his gavel down before asking her out for dinner.

In their short marriage, Elka’s bullish behavior and competitive drive led to her being promoted to her current position of an Information Systems Analyst Supervisor. Her intense focus at the Exchange led to people loving or hating her, unfortunately Jerry was head over heels for her, smitten beyond belief, despite Elka’s multiple reminders of her marriage.

She hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings by adding that she held zero attraction towards him.

Elka swirled the coffee in the dull green paper cup as she stalked through the Exchange and paused to say hello or offer a few passing words to several colleagues. After she finished the coffee, she fished a pack of gum from her burgundy Louis Vuitton bag. Soon the sweet and artificial peppermint coated her tongue and chased away her coffee breath.

Elka adjusted the shiny plastic badge over her heart as a familiar and delightful nervous energy filled her body, leaving a vast tingling in its wake that danced through her limbs as she waited for the opening bell to ring.

As Elka’s heartbeat increased and she snapped her gum faster, Jerry had remained at the Exchange entrance and looked down at the older man running a stiff bristled brush over the tops of his shoes.

Jerry could nearly see his reflection in the buffed surface of his shoes.

“You can’t short the stock because Bruce Wayne goes to a party,” Jerry said loudly to the man sitting next to him. The man whose name Elka couldn’t seem to remember. Dennis.

“Wayne coming back is change. Change is either good or bad. I vote bad.” The man who Jerry was looking down upon in his current sitting position as well as in life was a very loyal man with five grown daughters. Esau pretended to be every part the simple-minded man who was shining the shoes of the pretentious, all in hopes for a few crisp bills and shiny coins to rain down around him.

Esau continued to work the brush over the tops of Jerry’s gleaming shoes, urging a glow to swim to the surface. As Jerry and Dennis continued to discuss Bruce Wayne, Esau let his eyes wander over to his black nondescript backpack which held a loaded automatic weapon.

“On what basis?” Dennis asked.

“I flipped a coin,” Jerry answered casually before adding. “Come on let’s go scalping,” he said as he tossed a fresh five-dollar bill to land next to Esau‘s leg.

Esau watched Jerry adjust and smooth down his royal purple tie that stood out proudly against his bright blue and white striped shirt.

While Elka covered a deep yawn, Scott Carthwright pulled a creased ten dollar bill out of his pocket when the delivery guy from Antonio’s, a stellar delicatessen, walked up with a brown paper bag.

Scott opened the bag and pulled out the parchment wrapped sandwich that was supposed to be a mortadella on wheat with a fat pile of pungent pepperoncini and thick rings of Vidalia onion. He was looking forward to the olive oil and balsamic dressing that would soak the bread and impregnate it with the progeny of sweet, bitter, spicy, and savory. Scott let out a dramatic exasperated sigh and looked at the delivery guy who sported sharp features and a hooked nose. “It says rye, I said no rye man.”

The salt and pepper haired delivery man, Joshua, flicked his eyes over to the clock before his gaze landed on Scott’s plastic badge and ID number, G13689.

While Scott continued to bitch about his sandwich, on the marble landing of the carved staircase, Karl pushed a wooden handled mop along the floor after a pair of traders walked past. His beige monochromatic clothing made him almost disappear in the sea of ostentatious bustling busybodies with their platinum money clips, excessive caffeine consumption and high blood pressure.

Karl glanced down at his sunny yellow mop bucket filled with sudsy water.

Submerged in the soapy water was a matching automatic weapon to Esau’s, which laid in deadly dormancy, waiting to take lives.

Elka glanced up at the large clock and made her way to her glass-walled corner office, which was sprawling and spacious, she smiled at the fresh peonies her secretary Janice had left on the corner of her desk.

No sooner had Elka taken her seat and booted up her computer, when her life changed irreparably by a masked man in a leather jacket.

The metal detectors began to blare their alarms as Bane walked into the lobby of the Exchange, armed guards milled about with their federally issued .40 caliber handguns.

Bane’s broad shoulders were encased in a well-worn and creased leather jacket. DCS Downtown Courier Service, was emblazoned across the back in dull brick red letters.

Bane’s thick and heavily corded muscular neck and body were obscured by the fire engine red helmet that drew the attention of Sandra, a full-time member of the Exchange’s security team.

Sandra approached Bane and began to recite her repetitive litany for newcomers to the Exchange.

Her dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and she struggled to not roll her eyes in irritation at yet another person not being able to read the sign that clearly stated to remove all headwear, from hat to motorcycle helmet.

“Hey rookie, lose the helmet. We need faces for camera.”

“Come on,” Sandra managed before the red helmet was off Bane’s head and smashing into her face. The bridge of her nose exploded, and she saw bright blue stars before losing consciousness.

She would awake in a narrow emergency room gurney a while later, a plastic IV line in one arm, keeping the pain down to a dull roar.

In a brutal display of startling power, Bane moved to the right and swung the helmet in an arc, catching another guard in his forward momentum. He dodged left and avoided the next man’s reaching arm and gun. Bane slipped around the man’s extended arm and forced him to discharge his weapon before dropping him to the ground.

Bane looked around at the fallen guards, his veins and arteries swelled and became engorged with lethal toxicity. His body moved with the feral grace of felines stalking in the tall brush of the Serengeti.

“This is a stock exchange, there’s no money you can steal,” Jerry said in a tone that still held the repugnant tone of his obnoxious silver-spooned upbringing.

“Really? Then why are you people here?” Bane rebutted quickly and pulled Jerry roughly by the neck to a nearby desk. Bane slammed Jerry’s soft featured face onto the desk’s paper cluttered surface and ripped the plastic access badge from his chest.

Dennis tried to sink into his seat and disappear off of Bane’s radar, his sweating fingers struggled to not drop Bane’s red motorcycle helmet onto the ground. He felt like he was going to piss his pants, sphincter tightening. His stomach threatened to reject his liquid latte breakfast, acidic bile burned at the back of his throat.

While the metal detectors continued to blare their alarms as the masked group of men stormed the lobby. The masked men were all heavily armed and swarmed the offices and took up post by the elevators.

One of the men sprayed a line of bullets in the ceiling and the abrupt gunfire quieted a lot of screams.

Another anonymous man lifted a bullhorn to his masked mouth and began to speak. His voice reverberated through the lobby and reached Elka’s ears as she crawled under her desk and hugged her knees to her chest, through the glass walls, Elka could see that Janice had taken the same position under her own desk.

“Disobedience will be punished by death,” the masked man began and in a brutal display of startling power, grabbed one of the crying interns who was wailing incessantly and pulled her to her feet. He swung the bullhorn in an arc, catching the crying woman in mid-sob and knocking her unconscious to the floor.

“Cooperation and silence are what will allow you to retain your life.” Elka peeked around the corner of her desk as the masked man looked around at the people shaking in fear, the veins and arteries in his muscular neck swelled and became engorged with lethal toxicity. His body moved with the feral grace of felines stalking their unsuspecting prey in the tall brush.

Elka ducked back under her desk as the man’s gaze took to sweeping across the faces of the scared men and women standing in trembling huddles. They were corralled by their own fear, nearly paralyzed with the thought that the next bullet fired was going to kiss them between their shoulder blades.

Elka took a sharp intake of breath and nearly felt the weight of the masked terrorist’s eyes pass over where she was hidden from view. She flinched when she heard his voice grow in volume as he moved down the hallway, his men had spread out and were dragging people from their offices and impromptu hiding spots.

Elka pressed her lips together and inhaled deeply through her nose, she tried to remember all the jargon her yoga instructor spouted about finding a place of calm and being able to breathe away anxiety. She closed her eyes; her heartbeat was pounding in her ears with a dull roar and she couldn’t shake the image of the masked man. A short film on perpetual repeat, danced behind her eyelids of his predatory stalking around the Exchange floor, his eyes found every weakness among the hostage masses, from their red blood cells to their very warm, wet core.

Elka risked another peek around her desk just as the armed man did another visual sweep. His eyes landed on Elka when her face appeared around the mahogany desk. Elka found herself unable to move, trapped under his warm caramel colored eyes.

As the dangerous man approached her with light footfalls despite his heavy boots, he watched her expression fill with fear. He smiled behind his mask as he closed the distance between them, walking towards her with deliberate and painful slowness.

He stopped in front of her, “stand up,” he ordered and pointed to the floor in front of him. He watched her struggle to stand and found he barely had to drop his eyes to return her wide-eyed stare. His eyes fell to her plastic badge indicating her supervisorial capacity.

The next few moments were a blur for Elka, she was startled back to reality by the feel of his massive hand enclose around her bicep.

From the closeness of his proximity, his voice caused her stomach to clench and her mouth went dry.

“How much longer does the program need?” the intricate metal asked man asked Esau, with his eyes completely trained on Elka and the rapid and rise and fall of her chest.

“Eight minutes but they cut the fiber, cells working,” Esau said as he watched the progress of the computer program weave its way into the monetary network.

She flinched when she heard his voice call again to the man that had until not too long ago, shining shoes.

“Time to go mobile,” sounded the masked man’s musically toned voice as he closed a large hand around her upper arm. From the closeness of his proximity, his voice caused her stomach to clench and her mouth went dry.

The next few moments were a blur for Elka, she was startled back to reality by the feel of his massive hand yank her around by her bicep.

Elka heard the shouting of the masked man’s counterparts and fresh gunfire erupted as she was pulled towards the exit doors of the Exchange.

“Everybody up!” a deep male voice shouted and was followed up by a spray of bullets. Some hit yielding flesh with a meaty smack.

“You two, move.”

Bane paused in front of Dennis and pulled at the red helmet that he was clutching like newborn stock options.

“Thank you,” Bane said in a haunting and melodic tone as he pulled the helmet from Dennis’s sweating hands.

Elka seemed to wake up as the physically imposing man pulled her towards a line of waiting motorcycles.

She began a futile attempt to pull free of his grasp.

He didn’t audibly respond to her feeble attempt at resistance, instead he tightened his grip until he forced a hiss of pain from her lips and yanked her towards the closest bike.

Bane didn’t relinquish his stranglehold on Elka’s arm, even as he swung his leg over the bike and settled on the padded seat. He spared a glance at Elka before he pulled her to perch in front of him.

Her fears were renewed when he started the bike’s engine and began to let it idle as the other men with him gathered the remaining hostages at the exit doors and got on the bikes as they gunned the engines to life.

Outside, SWAT and police milled about and argued about the best approach to the terrorists.

Foley and Blake had their firearms leveled at the Exchange as one of the rooftop snipers squinted and called out. “I’ve got something.”

“Steady….” Foley called.

“Steady.”

The hostages started down the steps of the Exchange and the security chief shouted over the growing Gotham Police Department’s adrenaline buzz.

“Hold your fire, they’ve got hostages.”

In the midst of the shouting, Elka tried to slide out of Bane’s grasp, she almost squealed with victory when the toe of her shoe hit the ground. Her joy was fleeting as Bane wrapped a powerful arm around her and pulled her back until she was flush against his chest. She was forced to shift her body until the smooth, metal gas tank was cool against the inside of her trembling thighs.

As Bane and his men tore through the city on their motorcycles, they dropped their hostages one at a time.

The police force erupted in chaos and officers tried left and right for a clean shot at any and all of the terrorists, while trying desperately to avoid the innocents.

Some of the unlucky guys and gals landed poorly and Gotham’s emergency room had a slew of broken wrists and ankles to grit-filled road rash.

The original objective had been to take temporary hostages in order to ensure a safe escape from the Exchange.

As Bane urged the bike’s speedometer higher, Elka squeezed her eyes shut.

Bane kept his grip on her strong and unyielding, through the razor thin vents of his mask, he could detect the sensual aroma of a high-end parfum, sold only in overpriced blue glass bottles.

The fragrance held the sweet and citrus undertones of rosehips and bergamot.

Bane inhaled a lungful of the subtle fragrance as he continued to maneuver the motorcycle through the city.

As he steered them further from the Exchange, Elka began to fall still under her body’s shock response.

“Where are you taking me?”

Bane was genuinely surprised when Elka’s voice sounded above the wind rushing past them. He responded immediately and without delay as soon as her last spoken syllable had tumbled from her lips.

His single word response caused her vocal cords to temporarily cease to function.

“Home.”

[megafandombandgeekgirl]

Wouldn’t it be amazing if the world had equality? If we all had choices and freedom? Now I know what some of you are going to say Going to preach Going to cry We are equal But I disagree And the thousands of people who know I’m right disagree Because equality isn’t waking up one morning in November to find out that your’s and the people you loves lives are now in danger. Equality isn’t splashing cold water on a face the world hates to try to make the nightmare go away. Equality isn’t peaking out the window, glancing up the street, wondering what you have to fear today. Equality isn’t deciding to stay home, frost cracking the windows of the apartment you can barely afford, watching the horror on tv, shuddering as child after teen after adult after person takes their life because they know the world is against them. Equality isn’t studying your not white skin - again - wondering how what’s on the outside changes what’s on the in. Equality isn’t being dragged out of your car, beaten and then murdered, for following the orders the white cops gave you. Equality isn’t knowing and accepting that whatever sexual organs you were born with determines who you are in the world. Equality isn’t fearing that the certain kind of sex you are or choose might just get you raped because some people think it’s ‘okay’. Equality isn’t being terrified to hold her hand in public, or being scared of the beating for kissing him, or the collapse of hopes when you’re told “Your love doesn’t count. And you’ll never be allowed to get married.” Equality isn’t dancing, laughing, enjoying your time, only to be attacked, cornered, and killed in a place of safety. Love. Hope. Equality isn’t watching all the places that are supposed to be yours be destroyed. Torn apart. Shattered like broken glass. Equality isn’t crying for being kicked out of all the places you’re not allowed to go to anymore. For being barred from that job. For being banned from your proper facilities or treatments that make your life livable. And all because of the people you love. The identity you choose. The religion you worship. The shade of your skin. Things that are you that you could never change. Would never want to. And should never have to even think about changing. Equality isn’t hiding yourself or your opinions because the person next to you might kill you for it. Equality isn’t fearing that person next to you or the walk home at night simply because you’re female or trans or gay or latino/latinx or muslim or black or everything else that is refuted in this world. Equality isn’t the continual need to push against the aforementioned horrors, to fight the chaos against those who believe they are better. And all because they think being white or straight or christian or another “MAJORITY NORM” is better than the uniqueness and beauty we bring. Equality isn’t being scared of who you are. So don’t preach to me about equality. I know what it is. And we don’t have it.

mythoughts