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sstrongstyle · 5 years ago

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𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Adam Cole x OC, mentions of Seth Rollins x OC 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After nearly a decade of being the golden girl of WWE, Adaline Marin wants out. Their ring was no longer home, haunted by her first love and upon reaching her thirties, the face behind "Aspen Glory" wonders if the passion she once had was still ablaze. Instead, she gets sent down to NXT to join the Undisputed Era. The next three hundred and sixty-five days, all captured by cameras for the history books, become a year of revival, reinvention, and realization with her legacy at stake and a new flame from the past emerging. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: All characters are referred to by their real life names (for the most part) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I love feedback! Please send some my way! <3 Very background heavy chapter, no real fun, but more to come. If you’re interested in being added to a tag list, let me know!

CHAPTER THREE.

June 8th, 2019

Adaline couldn't believe that she didn't just agree to this, but agreed for it to be done for an entire year. It wasn't like she cared about being in management's good graces and volunteered to do it, but she somehow got hoodwinked into agreeing to a 365 special on herself. She was the last person in the world to enjoy having cameras on her when she was out of the ring and no longer Aspen Glory. Doing interviews out of character for Adaline felt like pulling teeth. She avoided Total Divas at all costs. Even appearing on stuff like Ride Along and UpUpDownDown was difficult for her.

"Just call me the modern day Undertaker," Adaline rolled her eyes, but she smiled a bit, as she sat down for the camera.

She liked her privacy as much as any other wrestler that had cameras constantly on them, but especially since fans liked to pay extra attention to her life for whatever reason. Adaline attributed it to her once long term relationship with Colby, highly publicized at several points because of whatever dirt sheet rumours and private leaks that were thrown their way. She was quiet at all times, her Wikipedia page only covering her wrestling career, as she had been as vague about her childhood as possible in the past.

Raising an eyebrow at the producer, Craig, a few feet away, Adaline wasn't sure where to begin. "I can just talk about anything?"

Anything but the few things on the "no mention" list. Most were contributed by WWE, but a lot of other things were provided by Adaline. This included her past relationship with Colby outside of kayfabe and especially anything to do with Nikki Bella.

"Start with talking about your career so far. You can name drop companies and non-contracted performers, but only because we'll be editing whatever we don't want aired, anyway."

"Right," she shifted slightly, unsurprised. "Well, I'm turning thirty-two this fall, so this will be into my sixteenth year of doing this thing."

She wasn't exactly sure why the Network executives wanted to give her a 365 special. As far as she knew, most of the episodes were focused on wrestlers overcoming serious injuries or taking the next great step in their careers. Was this what NXT was supposed to be for her?

Craig's expression remained blank, as he pushed his semi rimless glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "You started at sixteen years old?" His eyes never left the clipboard in front of him, where she assumed was a list of prompts to ask.

"Yeah, I dropped out of high school in the tenth grade and I worked retail and other random part time jobs for two years while training and working local shows in Toronto. Bingo halls, high school gyms, random parking lots, you know," Adaline explained further, still trying to loosen up her tense shoulders. "When I turned eighteen, I dropped everything and moved to the United States because I knew I was limited, wrestling where I was wrestling. I was an illegal alien with no plan and just a few hundred dollars—the dumb indie wrestler dream."

It'd been so long since she looked back at that time in her life. Once embarrassed by her roots, Adaline felt a warm, fuzzy feeling at the pit of her stomach and couldn't ignore the swelling of pride in her heart. She'd come far.

The look on Craig's face induced Adaline to continue, so she took a deep breath. "My early work happened in Pennsylvania, where I fought my way into gyms and I mean fought. It was really hard at that time for a woman to be taken seriously. It was guys like Drew Gulak and Jon��" Although Craig said that she was allowed to name drop non-contracted performers, she was positive that uttering the former Dean Ambrose's name wasn't worth it. "—um, who helped me learn the ropes and culture in that area. Chikara's Wrestling Factory really helped me out and I did stuff for them and other places like CZW. Drew was the head trainer at the CZW at the time and was one of the first mentor figures I had."

If Adaline had to put her money on it, she would have said that Craig was bored out of his damn mind, but then again, he had the same expression on his face ever since he walked into the room. "Did you just stay in the northeast for that portion of your career?"

"I ventured a bit more west as time went by. Definitely lingered around Illinois for a while, since it's where the top independent women's promotions were at the time. Funnily enough, I ended up living in Chicago for about ten years after that." To be with her boyfriend, but she didn't mention that. "I did some time on the west coast, not as much as I wish I did, but I definitely had some fun doing stuff in California and for a split second, Mexico. Three years into working in the States and I somehow, by a miracle, land myself in the locker room of Florida Championship Wrestling."

To this day, Adaline wasn't exactly sure how she got in. The tape that she sent the developmental recruits was god-awful and her tryout promo was more than cringy. However, looking at other people in her recruitment class, it was clear that officials and scouts looked at potential over everything—how well could they be molded into the WWE standard, the ceiling of their entertainment value. She wasn't sure if she should feel flattered that they saw that in her or not or if they simply saw that she could be easily manipulated.

"It was definitely a time down there. Difficult, yes, but I learned so much." Adaline could recall nights crying into her pillow out of frustration for where her training was going and how she was treated by the other talent. Girls often claimed how hard they were judged for being models and dancers before coming to FCW, but it was just as hard being an "arrogant indie schmuck." There weren't many women from back then who could relate to the garbage that she went through.

Craig asked, "Do you think performers then had a harder time in FCW than the recruits down in the PC and NXT today?"

She paused, taking the question in. "Not a harder time, per say, but the process is much smoother now, while being more of a burden. We have the state of the art Performance Center now, compared to that warehouse we used to train in. NXT gets so much more exposure now that it's harder to reinvent yourself at your own pace." Adaline said. "In a way, because NXT is now its own brand, I would say that talent from the FCW era were much more catty in the sense of starting drama and wanting to move up to get on the road with the main roster talent. The divas division back then was a very different culture to the women's locker room here at Full Sail, which is now very welcoming. Everyone wants to help each other, not drag them down."

There was nothing Adaline wanted to do more than expose certain names, but she held herself back. The catty environment, the hazing, the drama and sabotage, was too much for her. She was just glad that she move on from there quickly, as her memories in developmental hurt her as much as they did help her.

"And after FCW?"

Adaline grinned. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows what happened after that."

For the first few years, she was afraid that the only reason she got lumped in with The Shield was because she was Colby's long term girlfriend and that they assumed he would be most comfortable with her as their valet. After all, Adaline wasn't exactly progressing as a character in FCW. She was scared of that, and only being considered as eye candy and a side item for the boys. It took years of understanding from other people and seeing the product in the eye of the executives that they truly must have seen potential in her.

And if all of the above were true anyway, then Adaline made damn sure to prove herself to be otherwise in the past few years.

"My time with The Shield was everything I could ask for and more. I'm glad I spent that portion of my career with those guys, I don't think I could have found my way around without them. We were all definitely kind of lost, but we had each other, and we were really family." She wanted to say are family, but things were different these days.

Adaline talked to Joe the most, at least up until her move to the yellow and black brand. He texted and checked up on her often while she was off TV. Jon came here and there, but things were different. She only kept up with him through Renee, since the man clearly had yet to discover how to reply to a text.

Then, there was Colby.

Things were good the first couple months after the big finale. As fine as they could be, really. They were on different brands leading up to Wrestlemania, which contributed tremendously to the smooth sailing. After the Royal Rumble, though, things got. . . weird and of course, she hadn't known it yet, but it was around the time he started seeing Becky.

"Hey, Becks, some of the girls are going back to my hotel room after the show," Adaline had tapped Becky on the shoulder after catching her outside of the trainer's room during the later hours of Elimination Chamber. "You gonna come and kick my ass in Mario Kart?"

For whatever reason, Becky's expression dropped. "Oh, uh, actually, I'm just gonna head back to mine. Call it in early, y'know?" Tripping over her words, the fluster in her voice was a tad suspicious to Adaline, but she brushed it off.

She'd proceeded with her plans with Pamela and Leah, playing video games into the early morning. Adaline didn't even think of Becky and her obvious excuse until Leah mentioned that she ran into Becky on her way back to her own room.

"It was written all over her face! Someone definitely got lucky that night," Leah mused at the makeup table, two days later at Smackdown. "Who do you think the guy is? She's definitely not one for random hookups."

Adaline knew that she wasn't owed an explanation to Colby's new love life, but she was a little disappointed that she figured it out on her own. The little things, the rumours she heard backstage, all pieced together for her to realize what was going on between the two of them. Maybe Adaline wouldn't have felt so ruffled about it if it wasn't made to be so weird and secretive. She didn't tell anyone what she found out, keeping it to herself until they announced it themselves.

"Stop making excuses for him, I know why he's late." She didn't even look up from her phone, as she waited in the passenger's seat of the group's rental car. "He's with her, right?"

This was at the tail end of The Shield's farewell era in February earlier that year. Though, Adaline was not heavily involved in the storyline as some expected her to be—the escalation to her own Wrestlemania feud had been going on and she had duties to fulfill on the Smackdown brand. She wasn't there for the buildup throughout the month on Raw, but she was able to join the reunion at Fastlane. It was the group's last match together and the group begged personnel to let her be apart of at least the final moments.

Joe and Jon simply exchanged looks with each other in response. They clearly knew about the couple and probably found out from Colby himself. While nobody said anything to Adaline about it, deep down, they all knew that nobody needed to. She knew Colby more than possibly any other person in the world and the two weren't surprised that she figured it all out.

"Right." Jon was the one who chose to break the awkward silence. "Well, he can meet us there. Let's get this show on the road, we got some beautiful people waiting to see my beautiful face at that bar." It felt a little wrong to not wait for Colby on their way to the roster's "Goodbye Shield" party at a local watering hole, but even Joe was sick of waiting and started the engine.

"We had the time of our lives in that initial run. There's just too memories that I'll cherish forever, you know. But, my memory of all time is surprising the fans at Fastlane, when I showed up to accompany the boys to the ring one last time and having that farewell embrace as the show went off air." Adaline quickly blinked back the tears, as sensitive as ever, but she didn't like showing that side of her to the camera. "I swear to god, time seemed to just completely stop for those few minutes. It was out of this world, nothing like it."

The most magical part of wrestling was the crowd, there's no denying that. On the eve of Fastlane, Adaline felt mountains of love and excitement from the fans, knowing that they were witnessing the end of an era. All four of them knew it was the end of an era, in many ways more than one. Adaline and Colby, who were always known as a collective, rather than individually, were now apart and were now moving on from each other. Mox chose to chase his dreams elsewhere, away from the three that became his family. Joe's legacy in the industry was building and building, year by year. They were no longer the people they were in 2012, having finally gotten a taste of wealth and glory after early years of struggle when the four used to share a single hotel room to save costs.

She'll always be grateful for her run with The Shield. At the beginning, she was just happy to be in a main roster storyline. She was just happy to be able to maximize her time with Colby. Beyond that, Jon and Joe became her family. Bickering over who's turn it was to drive after long house shows, getting to know Joe's kids, playing video games in the locker rooms and every hotel room, and nobody leaving the trainer's room until everybody was clear. No one got left behind.

Back then, it was like that. Now? Adaline can't help but feel like she's come to that point, without any of the three by her side for the first time in a decade.

Craig sighed a little too loudly, rolling up his sleeve and glancing at the shiny watch on his wrist. "We're running out of time. We'll touch on your time with The Authority and everything since then for our next interview day, maybe also dig a little deeper into your new alliance with Undisputed Era." Adaline tried not to breathe a sigh of relief, already worn out from the questions. "Last thing. What are your expectations going into NXT, considering all that you've gone through in sixteen years?"

A question that she didn't know the answer to.

"It's good catching up with you. You have your locker number?" Coach Bloom stood up from his chair from across the desk, extending his hand for Adaline to shake.

She nodded, taking his hand. "Yes, sir. I'll be on my way, then."

Being called into the head trainer's office was similar to the feeling of being called into the principal's office and she had more fear in her body than someone who had just arrived should have had. That was the feeling that Bloom gave off to all NXT residents, but she knew that there was always care behind his tough demeanour. He simply wanted to welcome her properly to the PC on her first official day.

Meanwhile, Serena had been sitting to the side of the two of them and she couldn't confine the grin stretching across her face. When they had shook hands, she instead pulled her old friend into a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy you're here," she whispered into her ear, not caring that Bloom was rolling his eyes at them, mumbling about something for the two women to take it outside of his office.

They had only reunited so few times since Serena signed on as a coach for the Centre a year ago and it only made the moment feel so much sweeter. At the very beginning of Adaline's career, Serena had served as such a helpful mentor figure, even going into their short lived time in the FCW women's locker room together. To have their paths intersect once again, at yet another pivotal part in Adaline's life, seemed poetic in a sense.

Adaline walked out of the office, in tow with Serena. "I guess I'll be responding to your drills again, huh?"

"And you better do it damn well," she raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "I'm still in shock that you're here. They really didn't want you going anywhere else, huh?"

Shrugging in response, the Canadian sighed. "I'm in shock, too—considering that NXT wasn't apart of the plan." Adaline was getting tired complaining about how the wool was pulled over her eyes during her contract negotiations, but it was starting to fully settle in. Meeting the guys in Hunter's office softened the blow. It was time to shut up and accept the facts.

"People everywhere watched what you did all over the world during those two years that you were gone. You don't need this company to be a star, they need you," Serena said. "Have you maybe considered that you're here because you did all you could do on RAW and Smackdown?"

Those words echoed in Adaline's head, as she trudged into the women's locker room.

It had almost ten years since she started this journey in this company and it seemed like almost everybody that started with her had already grown tired of it. Her first road wives, April and Celeste, were long gone. Danielle decided that she was worn out and was gone. Trinity had recently taken time off and wasn't sure when she was coming back to the ring. Saraya, someone who Adaline thought would be wrestling in her sixties, was retired. Even the goddamn Bellas weren't around anymore. Ninety percent of the division from a decade ago was gone. Wasn't she exhausted, too?

She envied women like Becky and Pamela, who were still hungry for more. There were others who had just made the main roster and some down with her in NXT now, who suffered through the struggles of the indies and were still ready to claw up to the top. Adaline wondered where that drive was for her.

Every locker was labelled by ring name, some with more long-standing plates—mainstays like Io Shirai and Bianca Belair. Meanwhile, others simply had a laminated piece of paper slapped on top of the metal. These were the recruits who had yet to prove themselves, the names that Adaline couldn't recognize.

A shiny, new plate shone on the locker that sat at the corner of the room. Aspen Glory, it read, in all of its permanent lustre.

She slammed her gym bag onto the bench, the impact echoing throughout the empty room. The process felt foreign, making a locker home when Adaline spent so many years travelling to probably hundreds of different arenas and treating each space and moment as temporary. She wasn't sure where to begin, as she unlocked the door and was met with a clean, baby blue interior.

There were some basic things that she brought, like extra socks, a water bottle, and shower shoes. Adaline quickly filled the locker up with these contents and it still appeared so barren to her. What the hell else was she supposed to put in it? She shrugged, not thinking too much about it. Then, she heard the door creak open.

Somewhat hidden away from the front of the locker room, Adaline could hear a distinct voice that seemed to be talking to someone over the phone and a smile formed, hoping it was who she thought it was.

"Yeah, that sounds good for dinner. I just got into the PC, I think Cheree's already waiting for me. You know how she is, she's always early. Alright, bye, Johnny, I love you. See you."

A flash of blonde hair only confirmed Adaline's suspicions. It was Candice LeRae, who hummed the melody of a 90s pop song and chewed bubblegum, as she strolled over without noticing the other female in the room. She easily unlocked her name plated locker, which was across from Adaline's, and nearly everything spilled out from it being too full.

She groaned. "Oh, crap," Candice said, trying to chase a bottle of dry shampoo that had begun rolling across the floor, only to be met with Adaline's bemused expression.

"Hi."

"Hey," Candice replied with a grin, a little perplexed.

Almost instantaneously, they pulled each other into a hug. Knowing that she would be diving head first into the unknown, Adaline was aware that she couldn't navigate all on her own. The two Breezango idiots were too busy figuring their own things out and she couldn't voice her anxiety to her new stable mates, wanting to give off a confident face. There were only so many people that Adaline could turn to outside of them, so she gave Candice a heads up that she was now reporting to the Performance Centre.

Adaline bent down and reached out for the lavender can for her shorter friend, passing it to her. "Your shit's a mess, girl."

"Yours will be, too. Give it a month," she rolled her eyes and peeked over her shoulder at Adaline's belongings on the bench. "You're moving in today?! I honestly did not expect to see you here so soon."

"I told you that I landed a few days ago, didn't I? I've been in meetings all weekend," Adaline replied with a groan. She had only been in Orlando for such a short amount of time and the amount of work and settling she had to do was taxing. The NXT tapings hadn't even begun, yet.

Candice said, "Yeah, it doesn't really slow down for another week or so. You'll love it here, I promise." As everyone else had promised Adaline, who clearly wasn't convinced.

The blonde turned around and put the can back into its place—if it even had one, in that mess of a locker—and began rummaging through her personal possessions. Candice let a out a soft a-ha! when she found what she was looking for at the back of the space, a Minnie Mouse hairbrush. Adaline chuckled softly at the sight and turned around, closing her own locker.

"Are you off to go workout?"

"Yeah, Cheree's wanted to get some cardio in. Any more meetings today?" Candice replied.

Adaline shook her head. "No, just moving in." She gestured to her gym bag and locker.

"Well, while you're here, the taping schedule is posted up by the west wing double doors, you know, the ones to the main gym. We can check it out together. Actually, would your name even be on there?" Candice thought to herself, considering that she was one of the few people who were made aware of Adaline's presence. The taping schedule wasn't usually subject to the change unless there was an injury, but producers were known edited the cards last minute to accommodate random returns and debuts before, at least once the talent found out.

The woman in question just shrugged in response. "Beats me. It doesn't hurt to look, right?"

"Then, we can check out the travel schedule. Ooh, I hope you're coming with us to the midwest loop at the end of the month!" Candice became giddy. "We'll hit the road together, no men! I wish we got to do that more often when you were in Cali."

Adaline didn't get the opportunity to do so often, but she loved wrestling in The Golden State and especially in PWG. When she worked with them in the past, she always travelled and hung out with Candice.

"I don't think so, but probably the next one?" she shrugged.

The two began chatting more for the next few minutes, mostly about Adaline settling in and her new house. Always the lazy type, she'd been procrastinating and the boxes in her home were left untouched, despite her promising herself that she would get it all out. The small talk about something other than wrestling for once settled the restlessness in Adaline, a small distract of sorts.

It wasn't like she disliked talking about wrestling, rather it was all that seemed to be on her mind for the past while since Wrestlemania. Somehow, it was the first time Adaline really took notice of that, considering she lived, breathed, and ate wrestling for the past sixteen years of her life. A part of her felt worrisome for the sudden awareness of it, wondering it had any relation to her other career concerns.

Unfortunately, the brief, sweet wrestling-free moment was cut short when the locker room door slammed open.

Everyone knew who Shayna Baszler was, or at least, every woman in the company did. After all, the current NXT Women's Champion was probably next in line to overtake your spot in the animal kingdom. Management wanted to push her to lead the division once she would inevitably leave NXT and become a box office draw for all of the big pay-per-views and tours and media.

Some said that Shayna was one of, if not, the most intimidating women on the NXT roster and bore a vicious gaze. Even upon entering the locker room that was nearly empty, her presence demanded attention. All eyes drew to her so naturally and so quickly as they tore away from her out of fear.

"Out of my way," was all she had to say to Adaline, not even flinching at the sight of the veteran and former women's champion.

Adaline zoned out for a moment, completely baffled by the attitude that she was just given. She couldn't help but scoff, trying to process the disrespect that was being shown to her.

She narrowed her eyes at Shayna. "The hell did you just say to me?"

In between them, Candice just sighed. It seemed like that she wanted to end what was going to be an ugly dispute early, but something held her back. Adaline hoped it wasn't out of intimidation by the former mixed martial artist.

Shayna stared back at the woman in front of her. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you got this brand on lock? They get tired of you on the main roster and Japan couldn't offer you enough money, so you come down here to fuck around?"

Adaline wanted to find out how Shayna found out that she was going to be here, but that wasn't the main concern of hers. Her jaw nearly dropped to the ground, hearing Shayna's words. Clearly, she didn't like her or some rumours already began to float around backstage. Regardless, Adaline was already on the bad side of the de facto locker room leader.

With the fury running through her body, though, she didn't give a damn.

"I'm going to say this once, so you better listen up," Shayna began, "I think you're entitled. I think that you've ridden on the coattails of your ex-boyfriend for your entire career. So, I don't like you. Plain and simple."

"You think you know me?" Adaline's voice began to rise, but Shayna held up a hand and didn't let her finish.

She said, "Maybe for you, being here is like a little vacation before someone like Ashley Flair gets injured and creative will need another spoiled brat to bury their women's division with on Smackdown. For some of us, NXT is our entire lives. Don't mess that up for us."

With that, Shayna bumped Adaline's shoulder when she walked away to the other side of the room and behind a wall to another area of lockers. All she could hear after was the stomping of boots and the slamming of a metal door open. Meanwhile, she was in complete shock of the conversation that just happened, wondering if she just imagined it.

Looking at Candice's sheepish expression, though, it confirmed that Shayna Baszler did indeed strut right up to Adaline and cussed out one of the scariest warnings that the latter had ever heard in her life.

"Honestly, she gives that talk to every new girl," Candice said in a low voice, as she ushered Adaline out of the locker room.

"You can't be serious," Adaline shot back, still worked up over what happened. It took all the will in her body to not barge right back in and swing at Shayna's smug face.

The target was now on her back and she had yet to even step into the yellow brand's ring. If she was being honest, it was definitely a wake up call to where she was now and the expectations weighing down on her shoulders. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. She didn't even want to be here. Adaline wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was terrified for the first time in years.

#adam cole imagine #adam cole fanfiction #adam cole x reader #wwe fanfic #nxt fanfic #wwe imagine #hm series

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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1. Do you like having your picture taken? No.

2. Have you ever done a photo shoot, professional or non? I’ve had pictures taken at photo studios and I have a cousin who’s a photographer that did my college graduation photos.

3. If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go and why? I mean, nowhere right now. BUT, there’s a lot of places I’d love to visit one day. Various countries and places here in the US. I just want to be able to travel a lot one day.

4. Who would you take with you on this little adventure? My family.

5. What would you say is the most daring thing to do in a lifetime? That’s going to be different for everyone of course, but basically something that pushes you out of your comfort zone. Conquering a fear.

6. Would you ever do that? I don’t know.

7. Have you ever done crossword puzzles? Yeah. I much prefer word searches, though.

8. Ever actually completed one? Yeah.

9. Pick up the closest book and write a sentence at random from it. There isn’t a book near me.

10. Do the same with a lyric from either a cd or the radio. Nah.

11. Have you ever tried to analyze your own dreams? Yeah, many times. I’ve tried to look up what some things symbolize and what it might mean for me.

12. Would you put up posters in your room? Yeah. I have some things hung up.

13. Can you sing? I can’t sing well at all. I wish.

14. Do you ever sing to yourself while doing everyday tasks? Yes.

15. What's your favorite color of post-it note? Pink.

16. How many cassette tapes do you own? Zero.

17. How many cd's do you own? I don’t have any CDs anymore.

18. Ever bought a cd for just one song? I probably have.

19. What would your perfect day consist of? Beach days are nice. Or since it’s winter, renting a cozy cabin in the snow sounds lovely.

20. Have you ever lied to get off the phone or out of talking to someone online? Yes.

21. Have you ever written a survey? Once. It was several years ago during the Xanga days. I wish I still had it saved.

22. How about a song? If so share it. No.

23. Or maybe a poem? If so share it or one of them. I dabbled with poetry when I was 16. I am definitely not sharing one, they’re super cringey.

24. Is your vcr flashing 12:00 all the time? I don’t have a VCR. Wow, cassette tapes and VCRs how old is this survey?

25. Do you read your horoscope? No.

26. If so, do you base your day on it? No, I’ve never been into astrology. I used to read it when I was younger like in an magazine, but it was always just for fun.

27. Would you rather chew gum or use mouthwash and why? Chew gum. Mouthwash is way too strong to me and I find it irritating for my mouth and yeah it’s just not a pleasant experience.

28. Do you floss? No. :X

29. Are you addicted to napster like me? Okay, now you’ve mentioned Napster so this survey is super old. Napster was like late 90s and early 2000s.

30. How many times a year about are you sick? I rarely get things like a cold, which I find interesting because I feel like my immune system is crap, but I feel sick and crappy often for other reasons.

31. Ever been in an airplane? Yes, a few times.

32. If so where were you flying to? Georgia and back and to Disneyland and back.

33. What radio station to you listen to most? It’s been a few years since I’ve listened to the radio.

34. What color are your shoes? I wear my black Adidas the most.

35. Was fuzzy wuzzy a bear? He was. He had no hair, though, so he wasn’t actually fuzzy.

36. Do you know how to play dominos? I’ve never really played.

37. Or do you think I just mean pizza by that? No, I know what dominos are.

38. Speaking of pizza, what's your favorite kind? (toppings and/or place to get it from) My favorite is from this local place. I like to get white sauce, feta and ricotta cheese, crumbled meatballs, garlic, spinach, and pesto and olive oil drizzles. I’ve been really craving that lately.

39. What color are your eyes? Brown.

40. How many surveys have you filled out this lifetime? Oh pffffft, I am not even going to attempt to figure that out. There’s no way I could. I’ve been doing surveys for so long and sadly so many of them are gone because they were done on Myspace and Xanga. :(

41. Describe your bedroom, include all details. Okay, you want details? Here we go...

It’s small and has way too much stuff. For one thing, there’s giraffe stuffed animals all over, including a 4 ft one in the corner. There’s a dresser by the window that has my TV and Christmas decorations on it. To the right of that is a 6-cube shelf with some of the aforementioned giraffe stuffed animals as well as giraffe knickknacks, some coloring books and coloring supplies, a mini Christmas tree on top, a few more giraffe stuffed animals, a nice picture frame with my dog, Brandie, who passed away, and my BB8 droid I made at Disneyland. Above the shelf is an I Love Lucy wall clock. My closest is nearby and is full of medical supplies, 3-drawer file thing with random stuff I insist on holding onto, my shoes, and all my jackets and sweatshirts. To the left of my dresser is my bookshelf with a lot of books and other figurines and knickknacks of various things I like and hey surprise, surprise, more giraffe stuffed animals! Across from the bookshelf and dresser is my bed, which is also my desk cause I keep my laptop on it, my chargers, my phone, a coloring book, a couple packs of colored pencils, my Bible study stuff, my remotes, and my Nintendo Switch. I have a pile of clothes, too, cause dresser and closet are too full. I have like 8 throw pillows, a body pillow, a back pillow, and a couple actual pillows. I have a few stuffed animals that sit on my bed as well, which are a huge squishmallow giraffe, a small squishmallow pug, a small squishmallow Dumbo, a small squishmallow Baby Yoda/Grogu, and a Baby Yoda/Grogu plushie. To the right of my bed is a TV tray that has my bottles of water, my medicine and pill crusher, a box of straws, a glass, a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink, chapstick, my wallet, a Zip-loc bag with half a glazed donut and half a chocolate one, and a small bag of shortbread cookies. Behind the TV tray is my 3-drawer bedside table, which has a makeup storage thing on it that I plan on cleaning out and getting rid of cause I don’t wear makeup anymore and could use that space for something else, a bottle of lotion, a couple little room sprays from B&BW, and a jewelry tray. Hung up on my walls around the room are a few giraffe framed paintings, a couple beachy canvas paintings, two Alexander Skarsgard calendars, a bulletin board with various stuff pinned to it, and a marker board. There’s also a hamper in here, a floor lamp, a ceiling fan/light, two fans, and an ottoman.

42. Name one person your life is made better by. My mom. She’s my best friend.

44. How about someone else's? Huh?

45. Can you do math with ease? Ha, noooo. Me and math never got along.

46. What size is your computer screen? It’s 13.3 inches.

47. If you could only talk to one person online who would that be? Someone from the survey community on here.

48. Name your favorite type of music and why. I like a variety of music--various genres and decades.

49. Are you a vegetarian? No.

50. How about an aspiring actor/actress? Not at all.

51. What famous person dead or alive would you interview if you had the chance? Alexander Skarsgard.

52. Which movie can you watch and say the lines along with the actors? There’s a lot of movies I could do that with. I try not to cause it gets annoying, but it happens.

53. Name one of your passions in life. I don’t know. :/

54. What's your least favorite time of day? Evening time.

55. Who's your favorite member in a band, singer, guitarist, bassist, drummer, and why? The singer, typically.

56. Do you use hairspray or gel? I use neither.

57. Describe your favorite meal. Wingstop’s boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings. I also really enjoy my nightly bowl of ramen.

58. What color is the inside of your head when you close your eyes? Black.

59. Ever listen to classical music? Not typically, but it is nice.

60. Have you ever said lol in real life without thinking about it? No.

61. Do you find you use internet language when writing notes irl? I use “wtf, “wth”, “omg”, and “lol.”

62. What songs would be on your ideal cd? Like I said, I like variety, so a mix of songs.

63. Say one thing you've learned today. Nothing, really.

64. What is the best present you've ever given someone else? I don’t know.

65. What is the best present someone else has ever given to you? I’ve been given many nice gifts throughout my life. I’m appreciative of all the gifts I’ve received.

66. So hey, what's your full name? Stephanie is all you need to know.

67. Describe yourself while drunk. I was chatty and annoying.

68. How big are the windows in your house? Regular, common size? .

69. Do you wear a watch? Nope.

70. What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done with someone else? Nothing.

71. What's the largest age difference between you and someone you've dated? Just a year.

72. How many mirrors do you have? Just one in my room.

73. Write one sentence stating what you want people to say about you after you've passed on. I don’t know, man.

74. Have you ever sailed? Nope.

75. How fast can you run? I used to be able to go pretty fast, but not now. I don’t have the upper body strength or energy I used to have.

76. What do you believe in? I believe in God.

77. How long does it take you to get ready to go out? Not long at all. I just change clothes, quickly do something with my hair, brush my teeth, put on deodorant, put on my shoes, and then grab my bag and mask and go. And a coat if needed.

78. Do you shower daily? If not how often? No, I shower 3-4 times a week.

79. What one thing would you change in your life if you had the power to do so? I’d make it so I had good health.

80. Describe the ideal superpower and what you would do if you had it. Teleportation. I’d travel all over.

81. Are candles romantic or a fire hazard? They can be both.

82. Name something you've done in the last 24hrs no matter how big or small. I had coffee and donuts. Exciting stuff.

83. Do you wear necklaces, bracelets, anklets, earrings, rings? I haven’t worn any in awhile.

84. What colors are you wearing right now? Just black.

85. How often do you change the sheets on your bed? Twice a month.

86. Have you ever gotten lost? Not alone, thankfully, but yeah.

87. What's on your computer desk? I mentioned in the question about my room that my bed is also my desk and I listed the things on it.

88. How many folders are on your desktop at the present moment? Zero.

89. When your talking do you ever use your hands to do quotation marks in the air when saying certain words? Sometimes, if I find it necessary to do so.

90. Which landmark would you climb if you could? None.

91. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I read the Chicken Soup For The Soul books when I was younger but that's it. <<< Same.

92. Ever seriously questioned your sanity? Yes. 93. Can you breakdance? No.

94. What's in your fridge right now? Food and drinks. I’m tired from listing everything in that room description question lol.

95. How many people do you live with? I live with 3 people and a doggo.

96. Have you or would you ever do anything more than kiss in a public area? No.

97. What is the strangest thing you've ever done? Uhhh. I don’t know.

98. Name an instrument you've never played but would like to. Guitar.

99. Have you ever been on tv or the radio? Myself, as well as my story, was on TV after my accident happened.

100. What is the worst thing anyone could ever do to you? Physically hurt me.

101. Are you a fast typer? Yes.

102. How high have you counted before getting bored? I don’t know, but probably not very high. I probably would get to 100 and be over it.

103. Describe how you sleep. (ie. your position and/or how you fall asleep) I sleep slightly propped up and turned to my left side. I have indigestion and post-nasal drip issues, so I can’t sleep flat. I have a whole nighttime routine consists of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR until I feel tired enough to fall asleep.

104. Are you straight, bi, gay? I’m straight.

105. Do you ever do something else while on the computer? If so what? Sometimes I’m watching TV.

106. What is the most expensive item you own? My MacBook Air.

107. How about the least expensive? My little knickknacks.

109. What do you do online? Check my social medias, watch YouTube, scroll through Tumblr, and do surveys.

110. Name some stores you've bought clothes in before. Boxlunch, Hot Topic, Kohl’s, JCP, Target, H&M, Macy’s, Forever 21... those are a few that come to mind.

111. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? I struggled with mythology. I just couldn’t get into it, so that definitely didn’t help, and it was hard to follow.

112. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yeah. Whenever that happens I jump on Google and read up on it afterwards.

113. Do people pick up your slang language more than you pick up theirs? I pick up lingo from others most often.

114. Are you easily influenced by other people, or current trends? No, I wouldn’t say that.

115. What makes you unique in your own opinion? I don’t feel very unique.

116. Name your worst quality. Where to start... .

117. Name your best. I like that I’m open-minded.

118. What would you like to do with your life? I need to get myself together and figure that out.

119. Do you blowdry your hair? Nah.

120. How many clocks are in your house? We have like 3 wall clocks and there’s digital clocks throughout the house on appliances and electronics.

121. Are they all set on the same time? The phones and electronics are. The others are a few minutes fast. My parents set their digital clock like 15 minutes fast.

122. Have you ever intentionally set a clock ahead or behind the actual time? Like I said, we set some of them a few minutes ahead.

123. What do you think about when you first wake up in the morning? "What time is it?"

124. Which browser do you use? Google Chrome.

125. Do you bite your nails? Ugh, I don’t bite them but I pick and clip at them with clippers constantly.

126. Would you ever leave little notes to your gf/bf? Sure, I think that’s cute.

127. Ever been to a farm? Yes.

128. Tell me about your dream last night. I don't remember. I rarely ever do. What typically happens is I’ll remember when I first get up, but then it like vanishes. My dreams are like Snapchat. If only there was an option to save or screenshot them like Snapchat.

129. Ever seen a shooting star? No, actually.

130. Say one thing about yourself you've never told anyone. Uhhhh. I’m so boring, I can’t think of something interesting to share.

131. Do your days fly by or seem to last forever? It often seems like the days go by slow, but then before I know it it’s already been a whole week again and I’m like wtf it was just Monday? That’s how the years tend to feel, too. There’s definitely some days that just really seem draaaaag, though. And there’s something about January that always feels super long.

132. Have you ever stayed in a fancy high class rich hotel? Yes. 133. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? No.

134. What in your opinion is the best advertising slogan out there? If they get stuck in your head then they’re doing something right. It’s gotta be catchy. Jingles work well.

135. When they start sending rockets to the moon for us civilians, will you be on the list to go? Noooo, absolutely not.

136. How are you feeling right now? Tired, kinda hungry, and lonely.

137. Have you ever written anything on your skin? Yeah.

138. If so what? Random stuff. That was something a lot of people seemed to do in like middle school and high school for some reason.

139. Which website do you frequent most often? Tumblr and YouTube.

140. What color are most of your clothes? Black.

141. Do you own any plants? Nope.

142. Are things as bad as they seem? They sure seem bad to me.

143. Describe the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you. My mom is amazing. She’s sacrificed so much. I’m 31 years old and require aid with some things and here she is still taking care of me and doing so much for me on top of working a full-time job, being a caregiver for a family friend as well, taking care of us as a family and of things at home, and she very rarely has anytime for herself. She’s spread very thin and works so hard and yeah I just could never thank her enough. She’s the absolute best and I would be so lost without her. I couldn’t keep going if it weren’t for her.

144. Ever looked directly at the sun? Yes.

145. Have you ever made a pin hole camera to watch the eclipse? No.

146. What's your favorite cereal? All the main sugary ones, ha.

147. Who do you miss? My loved ones who have passed away.

148. Name something you just can't forget no matter how hard you try. Uh, a lot of things. My mind doesn’t like me to forget things like that. It likes to remind me of them often. Things like that hit at random times as well, like my brain will be like, ‘hey remember when...’ and I’m like, ‘ugh, yes I remember you won’t let me forget.’

149. Describe the worst fight you've ever been in whether physical or verbal. I’ve never been in a physical fight, but there were some verbal ones. I don’t want to get into them right now.

150. Say something else about yourself you've never told anyone before. Noooo.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #150 questions

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Different People (Different Arguments), 2/14 (Branjie/Jankie) - Ortega

a/n: a big thank u and loads of love to everyone who’s reading so far!!

fic summary: Brooke Lynn is a political advisor for a government department where she has to contend with an incompetent Minister, maintaining her stone-cold bitch image, working alongside a press team of slackers, and the Prime Minister’s ever-so-slightly terrifying enforcer breathing down her neck 24/7. So when a familiar face from her past arrives as her new boss, she’s not exactly thrilled to add another problem to her ever-growing pile.

And then she admits she’s got a crush on her coworker.

Last chapter: Brooke helped Bianca set up Darienne’s resignation and the new Secretary of State Jacqueline Cox arrived.

In this chapter: Brooke and the rest of the advisors accompany Jackie to a series of press interviews in a bid to make her a household name. But it’s not all smooth sailing when they’re blindsided by a rogue interview and a sensationalist, right-wing newspaper article.

Trigger warning: d slur

***

Brooke thought that old saying was pretty much spot on- a week was a long time in politics. More fittingly, a week seemed like a year in politics when nobody was talking about you at all, which was exactly the case for Jackie Cox. The expenses scandal had taken up most of the headlines for the past seven days as it had emerged that Darienne apparently hadn’t been the only one that had been doctoring them. There had been a lot of reshuffling within the party as a result of the various resignations that had ensued and Bianca had been close to a massive coronary for the whole week trying to make order out of chaos.

The worst thing about the whole situation was having to watch Nicky Doll on the BBC lunchtime news, sat in front of Chi-Chi Devayne and shaking her head solemnly as she gave their whole party a damning verdict, saying how out of touch with the electorate they were and how much they lacked empathy for the British public. It still made Brooke’s blood boil; the fact that Nicky could accuse them of being out of touch when she grew up on acres of land, was privately educated her whole life and had basically been awarded the job in the Shadow Cabinet by her father and his Etonian schoolboy clique. The irony was almost painful.

Still, a week had been and gone and Jackie hadn’t quite made the splash that Bianca had been hoping for. She’d been given about the equivalent of a column inch across the tabloids and a couple of mentions on TV as part of the reshuffle, but apart from that they might as well have appointed an stuffed aubergine as Darienne’s replacement and the media wouldn’t have given two fucks. Jackie, for her part, seemed suitably disappointed. It was definitely interesting having her in the department, Brooke thought. She was an improvement on Darienne; efficient, motivating, determined. Productivity in the department seemed to have risen by quite an amount and for the first time in months Brooke could actually see Adore’s desk, the clutter and unfinished work almost gone. Jan had certainly started to throw herself into her work a lot more in the past week, which was intriguing for someone who had wanted to quit the job before Jackie arrived. Vanessa, if anything, was just on edge. She was constantly paranoid that Darienne was going to bomb threat Dosac as a result of their betrayal. Much as it made Brooke laugh, she hated seeing Vanessa genuinely worried and had to remind her almost daily that if Darienne could barely be bothered walking across the office to the water cooler then she probably wouldn’t go to the effort of creating an elaborate Guy Fawkes-esque attack on the department. Brooke’s stomach had flipped when Vanessa was finally reassured and flashed her a little shy smile, but that was probably just the result of something she��d eaten.

Definitely not anything to do with Vanessa.

Although not everything about Jackie’s arrival was positive. Jackie was incredibly strict on the way she wanted things done around the department and was never shy of calling meetings with her three advisors and Nina to clarify protocol or to smack them all over their heads with her latest thought process. For Brooke it reminded her of how annoying she found Jackie, but the other girls in the department seemed incredibly enamoured with her. Scarlet liked her makeup, Adore loved her humour. Vanessa was impressed with how organised and on top of things she was, Yvie admired her knowledge of a variety of different languages. Jaida liked her fashion sense, Nina appreciated how friendly she was to everyone that worked there. Jan seemed to hang off every word she said, nodding enthusiastically at any suggestion Jackie came up with, giggling like a fucking child at any joke she made. It was weird, Brooke thought. Admittedly Jan greeted most things in life with an excitable enthusiasm to match her bullet-train pace of speaking and her energetic movements, and whenever she was around Jackie she was the same but with a hint of something different to it all. She was always so alert, the first to speak up in meetings and give a pro to any con of an idea of Jackie’s. Brooke supposed that must have been the effect Jackie had on people. Well, people who weren’t her.

When Jackie bounced into the department on Monday morning behind Vanessa, she was wearing a black pair of suit trousers, a cream shirt and a matching black suit jacket, and carrying two full trays of Starbucks coffee.

“Good morning, ladies!” she sang, her bright smile dissonant with the grey drizzle outside and the fact that it wasn’t even 9am. “Thought we could all use some coffee this morning, a bit of caffeine to cure those Monday blues! Jaida, I’ve got a skinny latte for you!”

Impressed, Jaida jumped up out of her chair and took the coffee from Jackie with a grateful smile and a polite thank you.

“Yvie, I knew you liked your cappuccino with a shot of hazelnut, and Scarlet without,” Jackie continued, handing out coffee cups like Santa in a shopping mall’s sub-par grotto. “Adore, I got you a hot chocolate, Nina, I couldn’t remember whether or not you liked green tea or camomile so I got you raspberry and apple, is that okay?”

As Nina’s face lit up and reassured her that raspberry and apple was fine, Brooke found herself rolling her eyes. If Jackie wanted to get them all onside with drinks which essentially served as props for the Instagram photos of little white teenagers then she could be Brooke’s guest, but she wasn’t about to start buddying up to her anytime soon. She watched as she handed Vanessa a caramel latte, something inside her burning fiercely as she saw Vanessa flash her angelic smile Jackie’s way. The Minister then moved on to Jan’s desk, her cheerful demeanour suddenly becoming a little repressed, as if she was holding back out of embarrassment or fear or something else that wouldn’t make any sense at all. Brooke and Vanessa seemed to be the only ones watching as Jan looked up at Jackie from under her lashes.

“Hi,” Jackie began, smiling almost tentatively at the other girl. Jan tucked her long, blonde hair behind her ears and returned the smile.

“Morning, Jackie,” she replied brightly, her voice seeming a little nervous too.

“I got you a peppermint hot chocolate,” Jackie held out the cup nervously as Jan’s face lit up. “I remembered you saying the other day that you liked mint and chocolate together so…I thought you might like it.”

Brooke screwed her face up. That had been a conversation that had taken place last Friday, where Brooke had insisted the entire concept of pairing chocolate with what was essentially just a leaf was insane, and Jan passionately defended the gross combination. It was a silly debate, the kind that could probably be overheard in an infant school playground, and the week had worn them down so their level of intellectualism hadn’t exactly been high. They’d been in the car on the way to Prime Minister’s Questions and from what Brooke could remember Jackie hadn’t even taken part in the conversation. So how could she remember that?

“I did say that,” Jan beamed excitedly, looking up at Jackie with sparkling eyes. “Thank you so much! That’s really sweet.”

Jackie gave an awkward little salute which made Jan giggle, and then moved swiftly on to Brooke’s desk.

“You always liked black coffee at Uni, so…I’m hoping that hasn’t changed,” she shrugged, smiling hesitantly as she rested the cup on Brooke’s desk. Brooke regarded it for a second then turned to face Jackie.

“You shouldn’t buy coffee from tax-dodging companies. It reflects badly on the party,” she said bluntly, feeling a sense of schadenfreude as Jackie’s smile faltered somewhat. That’ll teach her to make Vanessa so goddamned happy.

Wait, where the fuck had that come from?

Feeling a little guilty and coming to the conclusion that she could really use some coffee, Brooke shot Jackie the tiniest smile before adding, “Thanks, though. I guess.”

Satisfied, Jackie turned and walked quickly into her office with her own coffee. Brooke exhaled deeply as she relaxed a little in her chair. She was being a bitch, she knew that, but in her eyes Jackie still had to prove herself to her. Buying them all coffee and staying out of the public eye was hardly going to cut it.

Brooke hadn’t even noticed Vanessa wheeling her way towards her on her swivel chair until she was right at her side.

“Morning, Ms Crocodile,” she smirked playfully, nudging Brooke with her shoulder. Brooke narrowed her eyes at her in response.

“Ms Crocodile?” she sighed, too tired to even try to play along.

“‘Cause you’re so snappy,” Vanessa giggled at her own joke, her caffeine-induced cheerfulness completely unwavering. Brooke tilted her head and fixed her friend with an unimpressed glare. Nonplussed, Vanessa bopped her on the nose with her finger. “Is someone a lil’ jealous of our new Minister friend?”

“Jealous, please,” Brooke scoffed. “In all the time you’ve known me have I ever been jealous of anyone?”

“Yes,” Vanessa said simply. Brooke rolled her eyes.

“I have not!”

“Have too, bitch.”

Brooke sighed, desperate to move the conversation out of the back-and-forth bickering that it had turned into. “Shut up. How was your weekend, anyway?”

“Oh, not bad. Me, Scarlet an’ Yvie went for lunch with Silk an’ Kiki on Saturday at that new Italian that opened up in Soho. Service was shit but the food was incredible so we’re for sure goin’ back. You should’ve come with us!”

Brooke grimaced. “You know how I feel about anyone who works for Nicky Doll, V.”

“Aw, c’mon, Brooke Lynn. Silk an’ Akeria work for the civil service, not Nicky,” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I mean, look at those girls and tell me honestly if there’s anyone sat at those desks that’s party loyal.”

Brooke cast her eyes over to the comms team. Scarlet and Yvie had fashioned the assorted litter on their desks into a mini game of table football, Nina was reading some form of gossip magazine. At first glance it looked as if Adore was actually doing work until Brooke realised the phone she was talking into was definitely not a work phone, the huge fluffy pink phone case giving her away. Jaida was painting her nails red.

Knowing that Vanessa had her defeated, Brooke cast her gaze to the keyboard surreptitiously. “Things might be different at Nicky’s end, though.”

“Brooke, Kiki told us that last week Nicky and her advisors went to the treasury and the entire comms team played jousting with their wheely chairs across the office until they got back.”

“Even Asia?”

“The whole thing had been her idea! C’mon, we’re goin’ for drinks tonight after work. Please come? Please?” Vanessa pleaded with a pout, taking Brooke’s hand and in turn sending an electric charge straight to her heart. “I always miss you when you ain’t with us.”

Well. This changed the whole situation. Vanessa missed her, and so clearly if Brooke came out tonight that would make her happy. All Brooke really wanted was to make Vanessa happy. No- that sounded weird, like she had a crush on her or something- all it was was that Brooke just loved seeing Vanessa smile and the prospect of having that smile directed at her was worth spending time with the opposition. Taking a long sip of her coffee, Brooke was amused by the way Vanessa’s face was frozen in suspense.

“Okay, I’ll come tonight. But!” Brooke held a hand up, attempting to silence the excited Vanessa who was jumping up and down in her chair like an energetic puppy. “- I’m not staying too long, and you’re buying me a drink.”

“Sweet!” Vanessa beamed, giving Brooke’s hand one last squeeze and letting it go. Beginning to wheel her chair back to her own desk, she threw her head back and groaned. “Man, I can’t wait for this day to be over now!”

Trying to recover from her interaction with the human cocker spaniel herself, she turned her attention to the comms team.

“Do you guys not have some actual work to be getting on with?”

“Look around you, Brooke. This place is like dark ages Russia,” Yvie stretched out in her chair lazily, distracted from her game. “There’s no phones ringing. Nobody gives a shit about Dosac at the moment, they’re still too busy going over the finer details of everyone’s expenses and why Coco Montrese claimed for a duck house.”

Brooke had to give the media that; Coco’s duck house did seem to win the award for most ridiculous claim made, and the very fact that it had cost £850 was front page-worthy in itself. Sighing, she stood up from her desk and started to walk towards Jackie’s office.

“I’ll go talk to her,” she reassured the girls, who were no longer paying attention and had resumed their game of table football. Knocking on Jackie’s glass door, she could see her lounging in her chair, her feet up on the table as she scrolled at her laptop, bored.

“Come in!”

Brooke opened the door and made her way inside. Not bothering to sit, she opted instead to lean against the wall. “Do you want to give those girls out there something to work on instead of just coffee?”

Jackie gave her a disgruntled glare, swinging her heels down off the desk and onto the floor with a heavy clunk.

“They’re not working on anything because there isn’t anything to work on. I can’t get anything I want off ground until the media actually acknowledge my existence. I mean, am I a real person? Am I a ghost?”

“Well you’re not transparent. But then again I don’t actually know what a ghost looks like, so that doesn’t totally rule you out. They do take on human form sometimes, don’t they?”

“Brooke, I’m serious!” Jackie snapped at her, Brooke biting back a laugh and apologising. “I mean, what do you have to do to get on TV these days? Soil myself? Eat a used tampon? I don’t know what the minimum requirements are anymore.”

“Please don’t do either of those things.”

“You know what I mean. I mean, where’s Bianca been? I’ve not seen her since my first day.”

“She’s been too busy drinking the blood of those old Ministers she had to fire and reshuffling the entire party like some horrific human card deck. You’ll see her again, don’t worry. She probably has a plan for this whole radio silence the media have decided to pull on you,” Brooke found herself reassuring Jackie, who was slumped forward with her head in her hands looking disappointed. Obviously comforted somewhat, she sat up straight in her chair and smiled at Brooke.

“Thanks, Brooke Lynn. I guess I could start preparing for that incapacity benefits debate on Friday?” she shrugged, pulling her laptop in front of her decisively.

“That’s the spirit,” Brooke gave the air an anaemic punch as she strolled out of the office again. Sitting back in her chair and sighing, she hoped that Bianca would show up before the day was out.

***

Bianca did have a plan.

She turned up to the office at around nine-thirty, around half an hour after Brooke had spoken to Jackie, and greeted everyone with milder insults than normal which made Brooke think that she was in a good mood. As she called for Nina, Brooke, Vanessa and Jan to come to the office, something told Brooke that the day was about to get a lot more high-octane.

Bianca liked Jackie from what Brooke saw of their first meeting. She supposed “liked” was the wrong word- “highly tolerated”, or just simply “didn’t want to strangle her” would be more appropriate. Brooke thought it was probably because Jackie had that way of being pleasant enough without coming across as an ass-kisser or a bullshitter, two things that Bianca despised.

“Right, the Loose Women panel,” she began, casting her hand across the girls in the room. “I’ve noticed that Jackie is getting about as much attention as Jedward’s third album. Nina I know you’re not quite up to speed with popular culture so in layman’s terms, that’s fuck all attention.”

Nina bristled with offence as the other girls laughed. “I’m not a damn fossil, thank you very much.”

“Anyway, all that is going to change today,” Bianca turned to face Jackie, looking her directly in the eye. “I’ve got you three interviews with major newspapers.”

“What, nothing on TV?” Jackie cried, frustrated. Brooke saw Vanessa visibly stiffen out of the corner of her eye in preparation for the oncoming hellfire Bianca was about to unleash.

“Oh I’m sorry, Marilyn Monroe! In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a cabinet minister, not a fucking film star,” Bianca spat, her eyes glinting as she put Jackie in her place. “I’ve been busting my fucking ovaries to get this massive expenses fuck-up sorted and you want to argue the toss between having your face plastered over the papers or beamed into people’s living rooms? Calm the hell down. You have a fucking bundle to learn, let me tell you.”

Vanessa immediately hopped in, eager to dispel the tension that Bianca had created in the room. “Do we know who the interviews are with, Bianca?”

“We’ve got a print piece with The Independent. Laila McQueen is doing that one, she’s still young and will probably do the interview hungover so you should be alright. The second is for a supplement in The Times and it’s got an accompanying photoshoot. I think Fame is in charge of all that.”

Jackie laughed derisively, raising a single eyebrow in disbelief. “Fame?”

“Yes, Fame! That’s the bitch’s fucking name, and also what you’ll be avoiding for the rest of your career if you try to take the piss one more time!” Bianca folded her arms in defiance. Calming slightly and returning to her point, she continued. “Your last one of the day is with The Daily Mail.”

Brooke involuntarily sucked in a breath of air through her teeth. The Daily Mail had the potential to be a danger depending on who was conducting the interview.

“Do we know who we’ve got for that one?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“We don’t yet but it’s definitely not Gia Gunn. She’s away in Spain covering Yara Sofia’s wedding or some other tat,” Bianca curled her top lip, clearly unimpressed with the current standard of journalism.

“Thank God. I don’t think I could sit listening to her speak through her nasal passages for a whole half hour,” Jan massaged her temples, already looking exhausted.

“Anyway, that’s an online interview so at least you’ll reach a larger audience. Your interview with McQueen is at 10.30, after that you’ll have a car to transport you and fucking Little Mix here to the next two. Are you clear on what the line is for everything?” Bianca asked, training one nail on Jackie’s face like a sniper.

“Yes,” Jackie said immediately.

“You’re still pushing what we spoke about last week?”

“Respond more compassionately to the refugee crisis, cut the banker’s bonuses and stop the war on benefit claimants,” Jackie fired off passionately, reminding Brooke of every single uni debate she’d ever taken part in.

Maybe she was going to be a force for good for this party after all.

“Jesus, nobody could accuse you of being wishy-washy,” Bianca raised her eyebrows, the closest thing to impressed Brooke had seen her in weeks. “Okay, go out into the world and make your mark! Make sure it’s not a skid mark. I’ll be back to check in at 4.”

With that, Bianca was carried away by her Jimmy Choos before Brooke could even wave her goodbye. Heaving a huge exhale, Jackie sat up in her chair and drummed her nails on the desk in what was either excitement or nervousness.

“Look at you, Miss Cox! A photoshoot already for the next big thing in politics? You must’ve done somethin’ right,” Vanessa beamed at her, relaxing against the filing cabinet she had been standing beside. Jackie raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“She’s right, this is a big deal, Jackie! You’re going to be Jan-tabulous,” Jan grinned, Brooke barely containing the way her eyes rolled at the awful pun.

Jackie’s cheeks became a little flushed as she gave Jan a hopeful smile. “You think so?”

Jan looked to the floor momentarily, tucking an unruly section of hair behind one ear as her own cheeks began to go a little pink. “Of course you will! Believe in yourself, I believe in you! I mean…we. We all do.”

The room was suddenly silent as Jackie unsuccessfully tried to hold back a massive smile, Jan still blushing and looking at the floor timidly. Looking to Nina incredulously, Brooke decided to swiftly move them all on from whatever the fuck this was.

“Told you Bianca would have a plan, didn’t I?” she raised her eyebrows smugly, stretching out in her chair like a cat.

“You did indeed, Brooke Lynn,” Jackie indulged her, smirking a little.

“Much as I’d love to join in the Brooke Was Right All Along celebrations, we do only have half an hour until we need to be at The Independent,” Nina clicked her pen impatiently, prompting a flurry of activity within the office. Vanessa was asked to phone for Jackie’s driver, Jan and Brooke were to collect any and all relevant notes that could be useful for the interviews, and Nina was asked to stay and go over the media briefing with Jackie one more time. As the girls rushed around the department getting things ready, Adore shouted over from the comms team asking what in the real and actual fuck was going on.

“Bianca’s kickstarting Jackie’s career so we’re going to be running around various media offices all day. We’re paying your girlfriend a visit, by the way,” Jan smirked, laughing at the way Adore blushed slightly and turned her attention back to her keyboard.

“Hey, you’re in no position to speak, girl,” Brooke lowered her voice as she joined Jan as she flicked her way through a massive filing cabinet. “What the hell was that in there? Ohh, we all believe in you Jackie, you’re going to do great, my eyes are actually made of heart emojis!”

Brooke immediately regretted her comments as Jan suddenly hit her with a massive lever arch file, her face unimpressed. “I’m simply trying to be nice and supportive. You know, being nice? You maybe did it once back in 2001 or something?”

Unable to help herself, Brooke let out a peal of laughter. “Shut up. Let’s get moving before Bianca comes back to yell at us for being late.”

With the five girls all assembled, they began to make their way to the lift. Jackie looked every inch the confident, successful politician in her smart outfit, shining, polished patent heels, and perfect makeup. However inside Brooke knew she would be terrified and that in turn terrified her. As much as she still didn’t have a huge amount of faith in Jackie she hoped and prayed she wouldn’t fuck up. As they were about to step into the lift, Brooke felt a sudden tug on the sleeve of her coat. Turning round, she saw Adore looking a little nervous.

“Brooke,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder at the rest of the comms team anxiously. “I’m not really seeing Laila McQueen…well, not seeing seeing her. But, uh…if you catch her. Could you tell her I said hi?”

Giving her a quick look up and down, Brooke could tell Adore was serious.

“Don’t tell me you’ve developed feelings for her? Because this could be a total mess, Adore. If you get into a relationship with her and put one foot out of line our party’s going to be all over the papers like cat piss,” she warned her sternly. Adore seemed to already have considered this, and tugged down the sleeves of her smart shirt over her knuckles.

“I know what I’m getting myself into. Just…let her know, okay?”

With that, Adore turned on her six-inch heels and walked back to her desk, her face hiding any trace of the conversation ever having happened. Still slightly thrown, Brooke walked into the lift just as the doors closed behind her.

“Timed that well, genius,” Jan quipped as Brooke quickly fixed her hair in the mirror.

What was happening to the office, Brooke wondered. Scarlet and Yvie were all loved up, something (God knows what) was going on with Jan, and now Adore was trying to make things serious with a journalist, of all people.

At least she could say that she’d never get herself into something as ridiculous as a workplace relationship.

***

Sitting at the sidelines and watching Jackie’s interview with Laila McQueen wrap up, Brooke breathed a huge sigh of relief. It had gone well. Really well, actually. From the moment Jackie had walked in and greeted the young journalist, it was clear that Laila was impressed by her and the interview had seemed more like a friendly chat if anything. No matter how well it had gone, though, it hadn’t stopped Vanessa being on edge and she’d sat and picked at the split ends in her hair for the entire hour, completely tense. Jan had sat enraptured by the entire thing, her elbows resting on her knees and her head resting in her hands as she listened to Jackie talk. Nina, on the other hand, had slowly made her way through the entire plate of biscuits The Independent had provided them, seemingly not the least bit bothered whether Jackie succeeded or failed.

Remembering her promise to Adore, Brooke went up and greeted the journalist just as they were all making to leave.

“Ms McQueen.”

“Brooke Lynn, right?” she smiled, holding out an overly-formal hand for her to shake. Brooke took it tentatively.

“Um, yeah. How did you-”

“Sweetheart, I work in journalism. We make it our business to know everything about anyone who’s anyone, or who knows anyone who’s anyone even remotely,” Laila reeled off cryptically.

“Uh, great. Anyway, I just came over to say that Adore says hi. Clearly she’s not in any way bothered about seeming desperate,” she added at the end as she inwardly despaired of the junior comms officer. Laila shook her head and gave a funny sort of laugh.

“Well. Tell her she’s got my number if she ever wants to tell me herself,” she smiled flirtatiously as she swaggered away, as if she’d been talking to Adore herself. Cursing herself for allowing herself to be intimidated by some fresh-out-the-womb journalist, Brooke quickly caught up with the other girls in the car.

Interview number two and the accompanying photoshoot was less perfect. Jackie had the detriment of being interviewed by the infamous Fame, who asked her a lot more hard-hitting questions. Jackie gave as good as she got and fired back counterattacking statements, facts and figures as the four other girls sat and watched the verbal tennis match that was unfolding in front of them. Still, the photoshoot went a little better and Jackie seemed pretty confident in front of the camera. If Brooke was feeling generous she would even say that the Minister looked good, but it was already half past one and she’d still not had any lunch so to say she was feeling irritable was putting it mildly. With a curt nod and a handshake from Fame they were out of the building and into the car to the next interview, Jackie squashed between Vanessa and Jan and Brooke and Nina sitting opposite them. With a groan, Jackie immediately pulled off her heels.

“Oh God, Jackie, could you at least wait until we’re not in the car to do that? You’re not at home in front of the TV, this is a Cabinet Minister’s Bentley,” Brooke turned her nose up.

“Hey, lay off! These heels are just hard to break in. God, I’m already exhausted,” Jackie sighed, tipping her head to the side and resting it on Jan’s shoulder. Brooke watched as Jan’s eyes grew momentarily huge, then as she stayed painfully still as if Jackie was a little bird or butterfly that she didn’t want to scare away.

“Nina,” Vanessa asked as she leant forward in her seat and furrowed her brow. “You got any word on who’s doing this interview yet?”

“I only know what Bianca’s told us, I’m afraid. When I know, you’ll know,” Nina replied lazily, scrolling through her work phone with boredom. Vexed, Brooke frowned at her.

“Nina, what actually is your job title? Communications officer with the society for the deaf, blind and dumb?”

“Okay! Okay, God, I’ll send a few texts. Chill,” Nina rolled her eyes, beginning to tap at her phone.

“She’s going to send a few texts. Some really groundbreaking stuff here, folks.”

“Will you two stop with the bickering?” Vanessa hissed, slamming her folder on her knees for emphasis. “We still got ten minutes in this car, can’t we all arrive at The Daily Mail without any limbs havin’ been hacked off?”

There was a frosty silence in the car as it rumbled along the streets of London, every so often getting caught in inevitable traffic and being crowded up in between huge, double-decker buses and black cabs. Brooke was worried. Bianca usually knew by now who was conducting the interview and the fact that she apparently didn’t yet, or had just neglected to tell them, wasn’t good.

After a few minutes in which the silence was only broken by the rumble of the car’s engine, Nina spoke again.

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

All four of the others turned to face Nina, who was looking at her phone quizzically. Obviously taking their concerned faces as a prompt, she continued talking.

“The interview is with…Shangela Wadely?”

The silence continued, only this time everyone’s faces became somewhat more crumpled up.

“Ring any bells with anyone?” Nina asked tentatively.

Brooke was stumped. She had been expecting perhaps Delta and had been bracing herself for a rocky interview at best, but she had never heard of this Shangela girl before. She must have been new on the scene, which was a worry because now they had no idea what to make of how this interview would go.

“Whoever the bitch is, I’m sure the interview will go amazin’,” Vanessa eventually smiled, her optimism and positivity making Brooke worry a little less.

“Jan-mazing!” Jan piped up happily, earning her a groan from the four other women in the car.

Eventually arriving at the offices of The Daily Mail, they were ushered through various corridors by a receptionist who was clearly rushed off her feet. She deposited them in some form of lobby, told them that Shangela would be with them in a few minutes, and after that they were left on their own. Trying to get her bearings, Brooke took in her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that everything was eerily pink. The odd sofa-slash-bench things they were sitting on were pink, the carpet was a light pink, the walls looked like something in Barbie’s dream house. It was as if they’d turned up to be interviewed by Delores Umbridge. As each minute passed, Brooke became less and less able to take her surroundings seriously.

“How the hell is this the décor in a newspaper office? I feel like I’m sitting inside a womb,” she eventually said, not without a generous helping of disgust.

“Well, Bianca did say it was an online piece. Maybe they’re more lax about their offices in the web department?” Jan shrugged, scrutinizing the furniture around them.

Something about it still wasn’t sitting right with Brooke. However, she barely had time to think too much about it as a bright, bubbly woman emerged from a pink corridor to greet them. She was wearing a short, blue shift dress which complimented her dark skin and glossy brown hair, and her makeup was perfect. This girl seemed miles away from the journalists Brooke knew, most of them all usually hungover or sporting their makeup from the night before or bad-tempered. The girl introduced herself as Shangela and showed them all through to another eerily pink room but this time set up and equipped for an interview, another girl getting various things ready inside. To Brooke’s delight there was a sandwich platter sat on a table at the back of the room. Reaching for a plate, she began piling them up on top of each other, reigning it in with embarrassment as she saw Vanessa standing beside her. Looking at her friend, she noticed a small, worried frown on her face.

“Hey. This will go fine, okay? Jackie’s got this.”

“I know. I’m just nervous, Brooke. I’ve been to the web offices before, we both have, when we were with Darienne. This looks like we’re in the wrong place,” Vanessa whispered, tugging on a lock of hair.

“Yeah, well, maybe Jan’s right. Maybe this is just an extension or another section of the offices or something. We’ll definitely be in the web department, even if it looks like the inside of Sharpay Evans’ locker. Don’t worry,” Brooke gave Vanessa a brave smile.

“You’re so good at calming me down. Sorry for bein’ a mess,” Vanessa smiled back somewhat apologetically. “Thanks, Brooke Lynn.”

Before Brooke could even open her mouth to reply, Vanessa had sat down on the ridiculously pink sofa beside Jan and Nina, waiting for the interview to begin. All appetite suddenly gone, Brooke replaced the plate of sandwiches on the table and joined Vanessa on the sofa. She was so warm and the room was so cold and Brooke had to fight the urge to cuddle up to her.

She watched as Shangela sat down in the chair opposite Jackie, the random girl who was clearly her assistant handing her a bottle of water, her notes and her recorder.

“So we’ll just get straight into it and we’ll edit bits out and together as necessary, okay?” Shangela smiled at Jackie, who nodded a little nervously and shifted in her seat. Picking up her recorder, Shangela pressed a single button and sat back in her seat. “Interview with Jackie Cox, commencing at 15.07 on the 14th of October, 2016. Hi Jackie, it’s so good to have you with us today!”

“It’s good to be here, Shangela. I’m just excited to show your readers what I’m about and what they can expect from the party with me as head of the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship,” Jackie reeled off, smiling pleasantly back at her.

This was a good start. Shangela seemed cheerful enough, relatable and happy and keen to present Jackie in a good light.

“I have to say, I’m absolutely loving this outfit you have on, Jackie. Can you tell me a little bit about it, why did you choose that particular one today?” Shangela asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Brooke furrowed her brow. This wasn’t exactly ideal- Jackie was here to talk policy, not the contents of her walk-in wardrobe. Reminding herself that these sorts of questions were unfortunately expected if you were a woman working in politics, Brooke tried to relax. This was just one stupid question about fashion to try and endear her to the female electorate, she was sure Shangela meant well. Jackie looked somewhat like a deer in the headlights as she cast a quick glance to her advisors sitting on the sofa. Brooke nodded rapidly and enthusiastically, circling her hand in a bit to move Jackie along.

“Um, well it’s black and white. And…it’s a nice suit. And I chose it because I liked it and I needed to look smart for work, I guess?” she shrugged, smoothing down her trousers self-consciously.

“It’s gorgeous. Where did you pick it up?”

“Um…from the hangers in my wardrobe?” Jackie laughed awkwardly, glancing again to the girls on the sofa. “I’m sorry I don’t, um…?”

Shangela laughed with her, slightly falsely, Brooke noted. That tight feeling in her stomach returned again, and she willed Shangela to start asking her about Jackie’s actual job sooner rather than later.

“I have to say, Jackie, you’ve got a great sense of humour, some great style- the guys must be falling over each other to snap you up! Tell me, is there a man in your life at the moment?” Shangela continued, reaching for her water bottle. Jackie’s mouth dropped open a little bit, something between a laugh and a cough coming out. She looked clearly offended, and if she was being honest Brooke didn’t blame her. The archaic questions were beginning to wear thin, and Jackie was obviously keen to start talking about what she was actually there for, instead of whatever this was.

“Well, I’m not interested in men at all actually, so no,” Jackie replied curtly, her face completely unimpressed and her upper lip curled. There were two ticks of silence where it was Shangela’s turn to look taken aback, and Brooke didn’t dare turn her head to gauge the reactions of the other girls. Shuffling through her notes Shangela continued, the false smile back on her face again.

“So, you’re a woman in politics- a lesbian woman in politics-” Shangela corrected herself, adding in the extra word as if it was somehow relevant to what she was about to ask her. “Are there any other women around Westminster whose style you’re particularly jealous of at the moment? Or indeed, anyone that you’ve got your eye on?”

Jackie raised both her eyebrows and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth very deliberately, as if she was considering what she was about to say. “I don’t really know how this is relevant at all, to be quite honest. Can we move on?”

Brooke jumped as Vanessa’s hand flew out and grabbed her wrist, her nails almost digging into her skin. Glancing quickly at her, Brooke saw that Vanessa’s face looked absolutely terrified, like she’d just been thrown off a ski jump blindfold.

“It’s okay, she’s got this,” Brooke whispered to her, Vanessa nodding ever so slightly but still not releasing her grip on Brooke’s arm.

She could live with that, even if it was starting to cut off the blood circulation to her hand.

“Of course, no problem,” Shangela nodded, glancing at Jackie through narrowed eyes and looking once more at her notes. Soon enough the fake smile was back on her face. “So, as a Cabinet Minister, you’re obviously in a position where you’re sometimes out of the department working all day.”

Delighted that Shangela had finally deviated from asking her such pointless questions, Jackie immediately launched into an answer.

“I’m so glad you brought that up because just today I had an interview with The Independent, where we spoke about my targets over my time in office. I want to make sure that the party is-”

“Ah, so even today you’ve been on the go!” Shangela cut her off, and Brooke thought she couldn’t sound more patronising if she’d tried. “So when you find you’ve got a day like this, what sort of things do you keep in your handbag to make sure you can confidently go about your work and slay whilst doing it?”

Jackie looked momentarily as if she’d been slapped. Ignoring the question, she turned to directly face the girls, and Vanessa’s nails dug into Brooke’s skin once more.

“Is this interview definitely with The Daily Mail or for a 1950’s edition of Cosmo?” she laughed, her eyes dark. Brooke heard Jan suck in an enormous breath of air between her teeth. Vanessa froze. Nina looked like she hadn’t a clue what to say. Brooke was rarely stuck for how to react, but even she was lost for words. Shangela was looking at her assistant with wide eyes, as if she didn’t know either.

“Miss Cox, these questions are simply designed to appeal to the female electorate and help portray you in a favourable, relatable light,” Shangela explained through gritted teeth.

“Well, here. Start maybe by not dumbing them down so much and assuming that the only way they can understand politics is through the finer points of my damn washing basket,” Jackie snapped, standing up from the chair and grabbing her bag decisively. “Ladies, come on. I’m not hugely interested in giving these people any more of my time.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph I feel like I’ve just been pushed out of a plane,” Vanessa whispered breathlessly, frozen to the sofa.

“Jackie, maybe Shangela has some different questions-” Brooke began, desperately trying to placate both the Minister and Shangela. Already the journalist’s face was scheming, as if she knew what headline she was going to run already.

“Screw that, I’m not staying here! If I wanted to sit through half an hour of painful misogyny I could just go and stand outside a building site wearing fishnets and a push-up bra. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Jackie insisted, wrenching open the door. Dutifully, Brooke stood up and followed her, Vanessa not once letting go of her wrist. She couldn’t see Jan’s face, but somehow she already knew it would be similar to her own. As Jackie stormed through the offices and back outside like a tornado, Brooke started thinking less about the diabolical interview and more about how they were going to firefight the inevitable aftermath.

Finally outside, Jackie took a deep breath as the other girls watched her nervously.

“Nina, phone the driver please and tell him if he’s not here within the next two minutes I’m going to cut off his face, turn it into a mask and wear it to the next fancy dress party I get invited to,” she finally blurted out, still clearly angry and shaken by the interview.

“I’ll, um. I’ll maybe just tell him to be as quick as he can,” Nina reasoned, shuffling off to a quieter stretch of the street to make the phonecall.

“What the flying pelican hell was that?!” Jackie cried, staring at the three advisors with incredulity. “Did we time travel? Are we suddenly in the 1950’s? Christ, I thought that these days they’d at least be subtle about sexist bullshit like this, but no!”

“You know you’ve just massively fucked up, right? You can’t just storm out of an interview like that and expect it not to be all over the front pages tomorrow. You’re not any better at just learning to keep your mouth shut now than you were eight years ago, are you?” Brooke snapped, her last sentence out before she knew it. Vanessa was upset, and in Brooke’s view Jackie was the one that had made her upset, so therefore Jackie was getting all of her blame right now and not that airhead journalist.

“So I was just supposed to sit there and answer all that crap like a good little Stepford politician?! Jesus, Brooke, do you not understand just how patronising all of those questions were?”

“Jackie’s right,” Jan spoke up slowly. “To sit through an interview like that would’ve portrayed her as someone that’s never going to be of any threat in Westminster whatsoever. This is going to paint her as someone that should be taken seriously, someone that doesn’t fuck about.”

Upon hearing Jan’s words Jackie seemed to calm down by a good 50%, and smiled at her gratefully. In response Jan’s cheeks flushed and she looked to the ground. Brooke couldn’t help but roll her eyes. This was absolute madness, and she couldn’t be the only one that was terrified at how the fallout of this would affect Jackie’s position in the party. Giving up on both of them, she turned her attention instead to Vanessa, who was sitting alone on the steps leading up to The Daily Mail’s offices.

“V,” Brooke murmured as she sat down beside her. “You okay?”

Vanessa sat up slowly, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm herself down. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Jeez, I’ve been through some stresses in this job but that was just…a new level. I’ve never seen anythin’ like that before. She’s going to get slaughtered by them, Brooke Lynn. What are we gonna do?”

Without thinking, Brooke put her arm around Vanessa’s shoulders, pulling her in close in an attempt to help her relax. “We’ll do what we always do, baby. Spin the entire situation. And you’re going to be the best at it out of us all. You’re clever and creative and crafty, and you’re going to be an asset to us this afternoon. And probably this evening, to be honest, I doubt this is all going to be sorted in a matter of hours.”

Brooke’s heart hammered as Vanessa looked up to her, her eyes wide and dark and so gorgeous that Brooke briefly lost her breath. She felt suddenly as if she should say something to her, tell her something, but she didn’t quite know what.

Brooke’s gaze was averted from Vanessa’s eyes by a sleek black car pulling up on the road in front of them.

“Jackie, the car!” Brooke yelled up the steps, standing up and taking Vanessa’s hand without thinking.

“This’ll all be okay, right?” Vanessa asked, squeezing Brooke’s hand tentatively.

“Hey. We’re the dream team, remember? This’ll be easy,” Brooke smiled, stepping into the car and praying inwardly that she was right.

***

It was front page of The Daily Mail’s main website in a matter of hours.

EXCLUSIVE: AS JACKIE COX WAVES HER SEXUALITY IN OUR FACES AND STORMS OUT OF INTERVIEW, WE SAY…PLUG THE DYKE!

“Wow. I knew they were sensationalist, but I didn’t realise they’d be quite so flippant about plastering a slur all over their website like that,” Nina said awkwardly, as the other girls sat open-mouthed in front of their own monitors.

“I…actually can’t believe they published this,” Vanessa whispered, clearly in shock.

Brooke couldn’t believe it either. She knew that the world hadn’t suddenly been cured of all bigotry just because women had rights and the LGBT community could vote, but she was amazed that the newspaper had managed to get away with something quite so blatantly homophobic.

“Is Jackie okay…?” she spoke up, casting an eye to the glass office where Jackie appeared to have her head in her hands. Immediately, Jan sprang up from her seat.

“I’ll go talk to her,” she said, already halfway across the office on her way to Jackie’s door.

Even Bianca was silent, perched at Vanessa’s desk like a bird of prey. She’d practically lain in wait for them at the office, somehow already aware of what had gone on at The Daily Mail, and had given that one single blood vein on her forehead a good exercise as she yelled at Jackie until she was purple-faced. It turned out that with a simple Google search, Shangela Wadely could be identified as the editor-in-chief of Femail, the Daily Mail’s online section devoted entirely to women. Brooke couldn’t even summon the energy to be mad at Nina for not doing her research. If she was being honest, knowing the segment of the website they were doing an interview for beforehand wouldn’t really have changed the situation. The questions would still have been ridiculous, like some mad parody of a TV show created 60 years ago, and Jackie still would’ve probably not wanted to answer them.

Once Bianca had finished incinerating them all she had worked together with Jackie and the advisors to sort out a line. The dilemma soon became clear; did Jackie come out and address misogyny in the media as an important issue to be tackled or would that make too much noise for a minister who’d only been a week in office? Jan had been enthusiastically pushing the pro-feminist stance, googling those This Is What A Feminist Looks Like t-shirts before the cons of the argument could even be established. Brooke had been wary of it herself, scared of what the dangers of being so outspoken could pose.

“You could really split the electorate with this, Jackie. You know what the public are like, half of them still see the word ‘feminist’ and sharpen their pitchforks before you can even explain what the word actually means. It’s risky,” she’d mused, biting on the end of her pen. She’d looked up at Bianca, about to ask her what she’d thought when Nina had yelled that The Daily Mail had the story up on their website, and they had all dashed to their monitors to check.

Most of them were still staring at the headline in shock.

“Bianca,” Brooke said, quietly but not so that she couldn’t hear. “What the fuck do we do now?”

Bianca was deep in thought for a few seconds, then suddenly she sprang up from Vanessa’s desk, thundering across the floor. “Okay, this is what we’re going to run with! The homophobia and misogyny in the British media is rife and today it has reared its ugly head. Call for condemnation of The Daily Mail, set fire to their houses, fuckin’ eat their children, I don’t care! But just let everyone know that if they even so much as try to make Jackie look like the bad guy in this situation, then they’ll have me to answer to!”

Brooke immediately took to her phone, opening up her list of contacts and settling first on Dida at The Telegraph. Bianca didn’t usually fully show too much kindness to members of the cabinet, but maybe she was a fan of Jackie after all. Brooke had never seen her get quite so defensive over one of her Ministers before, but then again that headline had been disgusting and she wasn’t surprised that Bianca was enraged. As Jan dashed out of Jackie’s office and hit the phone, Brooke found herself hoping that Jackie was alright. Just because she still wasn’t sold about her as a Minister didn’t mean she had any right to put up with shit like that from any news outlet.

A series of conversations and constantly ringing phones later and Brooke still hadn’t reached the halfway point in her list of contacts or was even a quarter of the way through. Her throat was bone dry from repeating the same thing over and over again, and from the looks of it everyone in the office felt the same. Even Bianca seemed to be at risk of carpal tunnel from the force at which she was typing things into her phone. It had reached almost five o’clock and it didn’t appear as if the newspapers were going to let up, or indeed if any of them were going to be heading home anytime soon. So when Nina’s phone rang for what seemed to be the thousandth time, nobody paid any attention at first. That was until she ran over to Bianca.

“Bianca! Bianca, this is important!” Nina hissed, the phone cord stretching to inhuman proportions as Nina leant over to where Bianca stood. “I’ve got Widow Von’Du on the phone.”

There was suddenly a moment where everyone in the department held their breath, then immediately made their excuses to whoever they were on the phone to and hung up.

“Jackie, get out here!” Bianca yelled into Jackie’s office. Obviously bracing herself for more bad news, Jackie trudged out of her office, her face holding a brave smile despite the defeat in her eyes.

“What’s the development, then? Is The Daily Mail’s front page tomorrow just a huge portrait picture of me with another massive slur in capital letters and size 72 font?” she joked despairingly. Jan was the first to speak, clearly excited at the prospect of cheering Jackie up.

“No, Jackie, this is good! Nina has Widow Von’Du on the phone!” she whispered, as if she was conscious that Widow could hear them through the phone.

“What?!”

“Yes! She’s in my hand right now! Apparently she admired your stance against the sexism that’s still so rife in politics and she wants you on the six o’clock news to discuss it with her!” Nina beamed, the phone still pressed to her chest.

Jackie’s entire face immediately changed, her expression first shocked, then sort of confused, and then finally relieved happiness as she struggled to get her words out. “Tell her I’ll be there!”

“Jackie, are you sure this is a good-”

“Tell her I’ll fucking be there, before she hangs up! Oh my God, Widow Von’Du. I’m going to be interviewed by Widow Von’Du, fuck!” Jackie squealed excitedly, spontaneously crushing Jan in a tight hug.

Brooke couldn’t help but smile fondly at Jackie. She was clearly happy, excited at the prospect of turning the day around. Part of her was apprehensive about the fact she was about to be interviewed by Widow Von'Du, though. To compare Widow to somebody else would be foolish- she was incomparable, a standalone figure in the world of journalism, the Nelson’s Column of interviewers. To be interviewed by her was a bit like being asked for an audience with the queen.

“Right, we need to do a lot of things very quickly. Vanessa, you need to phone for the car to Broadcasting House. Brooke, locate some makeup and spruce this bitch up a bit, okay? Jan, you’re gonna go with Jackie to the interview, start grabbing any notes you can get your hands on, anything relevant. Scarlet! Yvie! Jaida! I want you ladies to start phoning anyone and everyone you know, I don’t care if it’s Raja Gemini or Ellen DeGeneres’ cat. Get some fucking hype going around this, this is big, this is the splash we want to be making! Oh, and Adore!” Bianca finished, looking Adore dead in the eye and consequently making her look as if she’d wet her pants.

“Yes, Bianca?” she asked, terrified.

“…get me a fuckin’ Fanta!”

***

The tension and excitement were palpable in the air as Brooke, Vanessa, Bianca and the entire comms team all sat huddled around the huge LCD TV in the corner of the offices. Brooke’s stomach felt as if it was an atrium full of butterflies. If Jackie pulled this off, this would be amazing for her career. If she crashed and burned, she may as well just resign now.

“What time’s it?” asked Vanessa, her voice anxious.

“Five fifty-nine,” said Scarlet, looking up at Vanessa from her space on the floor beside the sofa. “Do you want me to do a countdown?”

“What is this, a fucking space exploration? I just want us all to sit and look at the fucking TV and shut up until Jackie’s home and dry, is that too much to ask?” Bianca cut in, clearly unimpressed by how chilled out Scarlet was. Put out, Scarlet instead cuddled close to Yvie and rested her head on her shoulder.

For a moment Brooke was jealous of them both, jealous of what they had. She sometimes wanted someone to curl up to if she was tired and someone to go home with at the end of the day because despite how much she tried to argue otherwise, she did fleetingly get lonely. Her studio flat often seemed like a giant hen coop and perhaps it was the tiny enclosed space that worsened the feeling, but often it was hard pretending she was such a stone-cold bitch all of the time. It was hard working all day with someone like Vanessa and knowing that she was so beautiful and kind and intelligent and such a ray of sunshine and the complete opposite of her, and that she could be snapped up at any moment by any fucking ridiculous guy that wanted her and that shouldn’t bother her, fuck, why did it bother her?

Brooke was wrenched out of her increasingly spiralling thought process by Adore hitting her shoulder repeatedly. In a daze, Brooke’s eyes focussed on the TV screen where the all too familiar “pips” of the BBC news at six began to play. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, even Bianca.

Dun-dun. “Desperate for shelter- as the refugee crisis worsens, the BBC asks how much longer is the Prime Minister going to ignore it?”

Dun-dun. “Could house prices be getting worse instead of better? Chi-Chi Devayne finds out if you should be selling up or staying put.”

Dun-dun. Brooke sat bolt upright in her seat as a huge, blown-up screengrab of the Daily Mail article filled the screen, backed with the recording of Jackie’s interview in which she walked out. “And, is Britain’s treatment of women only going backwards? In the wake of her interview with The Daily Mail, Minister for the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship Jackie Cox talks to Widow Von'Du about why this should serve as a wake-up call to journalists across the country.”

As the intro began to play and Widow was revealed sitting in front of her desk, Brooke still wasn’t able to relax. Jackie probably wouldn’t be on for another fifteen minutes but that wasn’t going to stop her worrying. Looking up at Bianca she saw that she was looking at her phone.

“Bianca. Any word from Jan?”

Snapping her head up from the screen, Bianca gave some semblance of a reassuring glance. “Just got a text from her. She says that Jackie’s raring to go, already met Widow and they got on like a house on fire. She says it’s very unlikely that we have anything to worry about.”

“Great, so am I good to go home now?” Nina asked, lazily lifting her head up from the huge cushions of the sofa. Bianca only had to fix her with a withering glance and her head was immediately back down again.

Turning her head around from the item on the TV, Jaida suddenly spoke up. “So, why hasn’t the PM actually spoken out about the refugee crisis anyway?”

Seemingly glad for a distraction, Bianca sighed. “It’s not without me trying. I’ve practically been on my hands and knees begging to get him to say something, anything, I don’t know. Even a whisper that sounds something vaguely like “refugees” but could actually just have been him saying “cheese” would be better than nothing. At least we could turn that into a fucking soundbite.”

“Surely he can’t stay silent forever?” Yvie snorted, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Well, until he does speak I’m going to have to use all these fucking Ministers as sock puppets for the things I want him to say. That’s why I’m hoping this interview is going to go well, so that when Jackie is finished she’s going to be so well-loved by the public that they’ll hang off her every word. Hopefully by the time this interview ends, the PM might as well just be fucking redundant.”

“Shh! Guys!” Vanessa hissed, flapping one hand excitedly at the TV screen and holding on tightly to Brooke’s arm with the other.

Fuck, why did she need to do that?

“…joined by secretary of state for the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship, Jackie Cox. Miss Cox, welcome,” Widow smiled at her, her face genuine and warm and making Brooke want to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Hi Widow, it’s good to be here,” Jackie smiled back. She seemed at ease and pretty relaxed. Jan clearly hadn’t been bullshitting them.

“So, obviously today you’ve been subject to a lot of scrutiny, certainly online. Could you perhaps explain what happened to our viewers who may not know what it was that occurred?”

“Of course,” Jackie nodded, leaning forward a little in her seat. “I was basically given an interview by a journalist at The Daily Mail, which I thought would be covering my career and my policies and short term and long term goals- you know, things like that.”

Widow nodded sagely from her chair.

“It turned out- I didn’t know this at the time- but it turned out that the story was for the section of the website targeted at women. What basically happened was the journalist asking me questions that I didn’t think were in any way relevant to my status as a politician, as a secretary of state, as a Minister.”

“What sort of questions were those?” Widow asked, obviously knowing full well.

“Things such as what I kept in my handbag, if I was jealous of any other women in Westminster, if I had a boyfriend…that sort of thing,” Jackie explained, laughing a little humourlessly. Widow smiled.

“Now obviously we’re laughing but it’s an incredibly prevalent issue in the media at the moment- the underlying, often subtle sexism in the media directed to female politicians,” Widow frowned, Jackie animatedly sitting up in her chair and beginning to speak before Widow had even asked her a question.

“Well absolutely, and often it’s very blatant too! For example, the sort of language The Sun used when they wrote about Nina Flowers after it emerged that she wouldn’t stand in the by-election as she had suffered a miscarriage. Also a lot of the opposition’s leadership contest was shambolic in that sense as well. There were three women in the running so obviously every paper referred to it as a catfight, in fact I think The Star photoshopped the heads of all three candidates onto cats?” Jackie ranted, Widow just letting her speak and nodding repeatedly throughout. “Oh and lest we forget that infamous line from Nicky Doll; that Manila Luzon shouldn’t be the next leader of the opposition because she dresses like a blind ape throwing clothes around in a Primark. It’s really quite disheartening, Widow.”

“Absolutely, and all very relevant and indeed current examples you gave there,” Widow agreed enthusiastically. “So what sort of effect does this then have on women in politics- in fact, let me revise that. What sort of effect does this then have on women in general?”

Jackie paused to think over the question. “Well, the main issue I have is how this will affect kids. The way that boys will think it’s okay to talk about girls, the way that girls will think it’s okay to talk about each other. I mean, that entire opposition leadership contest was a chance to show the country the finest example of intelligent, strong women, and to see it reduced to a mud-slinging contest over who had the best hair and makeup was really quite insulting. It might put off women who want to enter politics if they think they run the risk of being talked about by both the media and other politicians alike in such a disparaging manner which has nothing to do with their policies at all.”

Widow nodded understandingly before asking the next question. “So going forward then- what would you personally like to see done to tackle this sort of behaviour from the media?”

“Well, I’d like a great big hamper and an apology from the Daily Mail,” Jackie joked, earning a genuine laugh from Widow. “No, in all seriousness, I’d just like them to think about what language they use. Today for example, the wording of that headline was just…it actually did leave me lost for words because it was blatant homophobia used in plain view of the public. A lot of the problem with the way things are reported is the language used to do so, so just that little bit more scrutiny can go a long way. This isn’t even just an issue exclusive to homophobia and sexism, often there’s so much language that’s shockingly racist or just plain bigoted too. Another thing I think everyone in politics should do is call media outlets out about things like this. I’m not saying women from opposing parties suddenly have to be the best of friends but if you notice someone else getting spoken about in such a way that’s degrading to women, even just fire off a simple tweet about it. Stuff like that gets noticed and if we all act together, it’ll eventually combat this kind of reporting in the media.”

Widow smiled and gave a sort of conclusive nod. “Jackie Cox- thank you.”

Vanessa almost leapt out of her chair with excitement. “Guys! That went so well! That couldn’t have gone any better at all! Right, Bianca?”

“She was certainly very eloquent. And she managed to smear the opposition without even noticing, I think. A win on both counts in my book,” Bianca gave a rare genuine smile, now immediately on her phone. Looking up, she nodded to everyone. “Right, my work here is done and so, I guess, is yours. You can all fuck off home if you like.”

Shrugging, Bianca turned around and made her way out of the department. Saying a quick goodbye Nina, Adore and Jaida all left to pack up their things too, leaving Scarlet, Yvie, Vanessa and Brooke all huddled around the TV. For a moment they were all silent, too tired or relieved to even speak. After a few seconds, Yvie broke the silence.

“Right. Pub?”

***

The bar was dimly lit, hues of red from the filtered lights giving a small amount of illumination to the corner that the girls had curled up in. Scarlet and Yvie were on the sofa against the wall, Yvie’s arm slung around her girlfriend’s skinny frame. Scarlet kept stifling yawns, indicating that she was flagging after their stressful day. Vanessa was their polar opposite, re-telling the story of Jackie’s interview with Shangela animatedly and frantically waving her arms. Jan had joined them and she was sat on the other sofa beside Brooke, smiling with amusement at Vanessa’s tipsy story-telling. Silky sounded as if her lungs were about to give out from laughter, her vodka cranberry swaying dangerously in her grip.

Silky was actually alright, Brooke mused. She was loud and crazy and talked more than she listened but as a mutual friend on a night out she wasn’t horrible. She’d greeted Brooke warmly enough, the two only having spoken briefly before tonight. Maybe Vanessa had been right. Silky just seemed like a standard working girl just trying to make it through to the weekend, who incidentally seemed pretty comfortable bitching about her boss and her other colleagues.

As Vanessa finished off her story, Silky took a long sip of her drink and leant back in her chair. “Good for Jackie, bitch! The Daily Mail needs taking down a peg or two anyway, it’s the fuckin’ worst. Between us girls, though? I would look out for your boss. Nicky is shook. She was not happy with Jackie’s lil’ dig at her in that interview and I feel like there might be some kinda storm brewing.”

Brooke and Vanessa shared a brief, concerned glance. Turning to Jan, Brooke noticed that she looked fearful and had reached out to grab Silky’s arm.

“Wait, what’s she planning?” Jan asked, clearly nervous. Silky simply raised her eyebrows, picking up her whiskey and swirling it around in her hand.

“Well hell, girl! I’d be damned if I know, I’m a civil servant! Do you think they tell me anything? Do they tell you anything?” she turned to Yvie and Scarlet, questioning her ruling party counterparts. Yvie let out a derisive laugh as an answer while Scarlet gave a sleepy shake of her head, clearly a hair’s breadth away from sleep or death (Brooke couldn’t tell which). Satisfied with their answer, Silky simply cast a hand to Brooke’s two colleagues and held it there, clearly satisfied at having made her point.

“If you hear anything though, Silk,” Vanessa insisted, knitting her brows together. Her friend simply cut her off before she could finish.

“Of course I’ll let you know. I am, after all, the ruling party’s unofficial corporate spy. Y’all can thank me later.”

Yvie and Scarlet clapped appreciatively and Silky gave a little bow. Brooke was still troubled by what she had told them, though. If the opposition did have a plan things probably weren’t looking good for the week ahead, least of all if Bob was behind it. Even if she was known as “the less savage Bianca”, Bob was cunning and sly and could wreak some severe havoc across the party. Having been the party’s spin doctor for some years now, she knew every trick in the book and paired with Nicky, her scheming advisors, and Asia (Nina’s opposite number), there certainly could be some amount of shitstorm brewing.

Some form of compere had taken to the “stage” beside the bar (a single dim halogen light, a microphone and one speaker) and was announcing the start of an open mic night. Silky’s face lit up excitedly as she leapt up from her chair, only to be immediately shoved back down again by Yvie.

“For the millionth time, you’re not doing an acoustic Whitney Houston greatest hits medley,” she said with a long-suffering shake of her head. A scraggy sort of guy with a long beard took to the spotlight.

“My name is Alex, and this one is called Wonderwall.”

Brooke’s entire table groaned.

“Fuck me senseless. I’m going for a cigarette,” Yvie announced, hurriedly escaping the bar.

“I’ll join you,” Brooke shrugged, the prospect of social smoking preferable to sitting through the inevitable dirge that was to come.

Bursting the door open and gasping a little as the cold air hit her bare arms, Brooke leant against the cold brick wall and sighed deeply. Lighting up, Yvie looked at her with a funny sort of smile.

“What?” Brooke asked.

“Nothing. Just wondering when you’re planning on telling Vanessa about that huge teen girl crush you have on her.”

Brooke’s insides dropped about 50 metres to the ground. Was it really that obvious? No- no, it couldn’t be obvious, because her so-called crush didn’t exist. What gave Yvie the right? She was jumping to stupid conclusions and just because she and Scarlet were happy together didn’t mean that love was all around them like some fucking Wet, Wet, Wet song. Keeping her face blank, Brooke simply looked Yvie in the eyes.

“The crush that doesn’t exist? Yeah I’m telling her tomorrow, we’ve got an appointment at 4.”

“Brooke, come on. You think I don’t recognise that behaviour? You look at her like you want to protect her, whenever she makes a joke you’re the first to laugh. You care about her more than anyone else, you’re more patient with her than you are with any of us. Whenever anything goes down at work, you’re the first to make sure she’s okay. Just admit it. You’ll feel better.”

“Yvie, I know it might be hard for you to get your head round and I know you can barely see because of the fucking hearts blocking the way of your pupils…but I’m not interested in Vanessa,” Brooke scowled. For a second she regretted it. Yvie was clearly only trying to help, but what exactly was she going to do? Brooke wasn’t about to ruin things with Vanessa or ruin the atmosphere in the workplace by admitting that…admitting what? There was nothing to admit.

Smirking, Yvie stubbed out her cigarette on the wall and dropped it to the ground. “Alright, well. Keep telling yourself that. See how far it gets you.”

As she walked back inside, Brooke instead tipped her head back against the cold, damp bricks and exhaled shakily. She was doing fine on her own, she didn’t need anyone, but the more Brooke thought about it the more she considered the differences between need and want. Every thought she had seemed to be followed up by Yvie’s voice, now warped and mocking in her head. Keep telling yourself that. Tearing a hand through her hair Brooke looked up to the dark sky, feeling momentarily like she wanted to pray.

Instead, she turned and walked back inside the bar.

Returning to her seat, she found the girls all laughing uproariously at something Silky had said. She was still talking, all excited and hyped up, and even though she commanded the attention of everyone at the table Brooke still found her eyes being drawn to Vanessa, Yvie’s words playing in her mind. She was smiling at Silky; the glitter dusted onto her cheekbones, the shine of her hair, and the gloss on her lips catching the light. She looked happy and carefree and gorgeous. Just then, Vanessa’s gaze was on her, and Brooke was caught having been looking at her first. Snapping her gaze to the floor, Brooke felt around the table for her vodka and coke and gripped it with one white-knuckled hand. Feeling her heart race inside her chest and wiping the sweat away from one hand on her leggings, two things became clearer to Brooke than ever before.

Yvie was right, and she was completely and utterly fucked.

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skruttet · 5 years ago

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I flicked through the Tuula Karjalainen book and read bits and pieces of it already and there’s this one section about homosexuality in it that I found really interesting so I thought I’d post it here, even though it’s a bit long oops, in case any of y’all were interested in reading it! Like, I never knew Tove had a gay cousin whom Tove was supportive of in terms of her lesbian identity and whose partner wrote a dissertation on Tove’s books?? So fascinating! Also was not expecting the sentence “The Hattifatteners resemble a wandering flock of penises or condoms”; usually they’re referred to more subtly with words like ‘phallic’ but not here xD

OPEN AND CLOSED

Many researchers have looked for references to homosexuality in Tove’s writings. Although she did not talk about it in public, she made no attempt to conceal it either, and her relationship with Tuulikki Pietilä was known to everyone. The two women took part in official state events such as the President’s Independence Day ball, where they were clearly the first to attend the event officially as a lesbian couple. Their relationship was so open and obvious it was that it was not newsworthy. It was hard to build a scandal on something that everyone knew - even the press, which liked to chase stories of that kind.

Psychological explanations of various kinds often have a chapter of their own in the analyses of Tove’s books, and sometimes unusual views have been expressed. The Swedish scholar Barbro K. Gustafsson earned her doctorate in 1992 from Uppsala University’s Theological Faculty with a dissertation on Tove’s books for adults. She made a special study of The Doll’s House, Sun City, ‘The Great Journey’ and Fair Play, and although her thesis also covered the Moomin stories, they were dealt with more briefly.

Perhaps surprisingly, Tove agreed to be interviewed by Gustafsson during her research work, and even participated in it actively by attending Gustafsson’s dissertation defence. The fact that Tove was prepared to do this may partly be explained by a family connection: Gustafsson was the partner of Tove’s beloved cousin Kerstin. When Kerstin, from a religious family, had realised that she was lesbian, Tove had been extremely supportive. Tove and her friends also helped Kerstin with many issues related to her lesbian identity.

Tove refused to give any public interviews about the dissertation defence, and did not want to talk about her private life or relationships. She returned to Finland as soon as the defence and the celebrations for Gustafsson’s Ph.D. were over, though she did issue a press release. In it she followed convention, thanking Gustafsson for the clarity of her book and her extensive knowledge of the subject - she had, Tove thought, succeeded in uncovering a rarely explored area of the unconscious. She also said that though much was written about authors, it was perhaps best done after their death, if at all. As if to soften the blow, she stressed the degree of trust between herself and Gustafsson. She said that following the progress of the research had been like an adventure, and that it had almost allowed her to see herself as a pioneer.

In her study, Gustafsson focuses on a dream that Tove had in the 1930s and found strangely threatening. In it she had seen large, black, wolf-like dogs on a seashore at sunset. A psychologist had explained to her that the dream was about repressed drives and forbidden sensuality.

In her thesis, Gustafsson is perhaps prone to detect elements of homosexuality too easily in very ordinary matters connected with the sea and archipelago life. She also discussed the wild animals that Tove often returned to both in the Moomin books and in her works for adults. In Moominland Midwinter the dog Sorry-oo wants to join the wolves and learn to howl like them. The story concerns the desire to leave the species into which one has been born, something that proves impossible. In The True Deceiver, the wolfhound plays a central role in the power relationship between the two women. Numerous readers have seen allusions to homosexuality in the comic strip about a little dog that falls in love with a cat. It realises that the love is wrong and becomes depressed. In the end the cat turns out to be a dog in disguise. This time the problem has a simple solution.

In Tove’s books there are repeated descriptions of people or Moominvalley creatures becoming ‘electric’, and this is clearly an important theme in her writing. The Hattifatteners resemble a wandering flock of penises or condoms - in thunderstorms they become electric, and then burn anyone who gets close to them. It is very easy to imagine that the electrification is an allegory for oestrus. The Mymble is also able to become electric - with her countless children she is the most sensual character in Moominvalley. The Whomper Toft in Moominvalley in November is the master of thunder and lightning. He lets the Creature out of a locked cupboard, and all that remains is a smell of electricity. The Creature runs away and grows even larger during thunderstorms, when lightning fills the sky, but is too big, angry and bewildered to be so big and angry. In ‘The Doll’s House’, electrification brings about a drama of jealousy between three men that leads to violence. There is a similar outcome in ‘The Great Journey’, where the mother feels the electrifying presence of her daughter’s female friend, whereupon the daughter becomes jealous.

Fair Play is a book about the relationship between two women in their seventies who are set in their ways, and their daily life together. Gustafsson uses the narrative to examine their mutual roles in the light of the old custom of categorising lesbians either as ‘femmes’ or ‘butches’, the latter having more masculine traits - a way of seeing a relationship between two women as a copy of a heterosexual one. Jonna and her prototype Tuulikki correspond to the ‘butch’ profile. Tove also portrayed Tuulikki as Moominvalley’s Too-ticky, a rather burly, masculine figure who keeps a knife in her belt.

Quoting Lord Alfred Douglas and the line of verse that was mentioned at the indecency trial of Oscar Wilde, Gustafsson writes that homosexual love is the love that does not dare speak its name. Although the time in which Tove lived was quite different from Wilde’s, there were similar prejudices and tensions in society - and, of course, they influenced her writing. Over the centuries women were not expected to write blatant erotic descriptions, but had instead to express themselves in allegorical terms. It was supposed that they did experience such feelings - and even more so when they were the result of unlawful love.

Tove’s books contain no openly erotic episodes or writing of a sexual nature and in this her writing is typical of women’s literature of her time. Sometimes it feels as though the characters in her books have to some extent been freed from sexuality. Their relationships are based more on understanding and friendship than on ardent passion, though their jealousy can sometimes take violent forms. Many things are veiled in highly metaphorical language. In the books that Tove wrote for adults, male and female couples are portrayed interchangeably without particular emphasis. In many of her books, as in her life, homosexuality was so natural that there was no need to make a fuss about it. While it was not to be denied, it was not to be given a high profile either. It was almost as though she backed out of dealing with her sexuality too openly, and in fact she forbade her biographer to write about her love affairs. Since the biography was written for children, this kind of advance censorship was possible.

In the story ‘The Great Journey’ (’Den stora resan’), two women in their seventies, Rosa and Elena, together with Rosa’s mother, live a life of humdrum joys and sorrows and work on their creative tasks. Among all three, physical love is a taboo subject. Elena asks Rosa: ‘What does she know, in any case? Nothing. She doesn’t know anything about such matters.’ The two women are unable to show their feelings for each other if Rosa’s mother is present. They plan a holiday together, but Rosa changes her mind and goes away with her mother instead. She remembers the promise she made in the nursery: ‘I’ll take you with me, I’ll steal you from Papa, we’ll go to a jungle or sail out on the Mediterranean... I’ll build you a castle where you shall be queen.’

Organisations that promoted sexual equality in Finland and the Nordic countries gave Tove awards for her pioneering work on behalf of sexual minorities, and she has certainly been an extremely important role model and author in the gay community. She had the ability to be completely open, yet at the same time quite private - as in the case of the dissertation, when she gave Gustafsson interviews and took part in the defence, but would not agree to answer questions from journalists who were interested in her private life. In relation to her lesbian identity, as shown by this very situation, she sometimes came out of the closet, and at other times she concealed the truth.

Tove’s homosexuality inspired a great many researchers and readers to look for the most varied interpretations. Perhaps her slightly sardonic attitude to this excessive interest can be seen in her song ‘Psychomania’ (’Psykofnattvisan’), written in 1963 for the revue Krasch and set to music by Erna Tauro. The song is like an obscure parody, in which psychoanalytic terms form a wild, cacophonous reality all of their own. It is as though she is drifting among people who are intently looking for something and who begin to see the signs of it everywhere. In fact, they can no longer see anything else because their heads are filled with ‘psychomania’. The song is a lengthy one, and operates on many levels. It also demonstrates that its author was familiar with the psychological terminology of the day - Tove had always been fascinated by interpretations of the human mind and she knew the terminology back to front, so well in fact that she could play with it:

I pore and pore and where I pore the symbols gather more and more I sink right through the floor into depression and tendentious apperception...

-Tove Jansson: Work and Love by Tuula Karjalainen

#tove jansson #moomins #LGBT+#krasch #work and love

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fmdxsujiarchive · 4 years ago

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summary: it’s another suji song about something non-romantic that gets disguised as a love song anyway date: various dates throughout 2020 word count: 2,590 words, excluding the lyrics notes: creative claims (full lyrics, full composition, partial production) for when we were two! mentions of duri and jae since they’ll be a part of the song.

“what’s with all the rapping features in your songs?”

suji’s in the middle of scribbling down a sudden thought that had popped into her mind because she’s certain it could be transcribed into some thoughtful lyrics later on when minwoo’s voice interrupts her thought. the pen in her hand stops moving, and she looks up from the notebook to give him a look. a look that reflects that she hadn’t realized that her songs so far have been rich with rap features.

“isn’t that how a lot of female ballad songs go when it’s not being sung completely solo?” she does not have a solid answer for minwoo’s question and instead hums to herself before sketching out some incoherent drawings at the corner of her notebook. why does she have so many rap features in her songs? she begins to wonder if it was a conscious choice or if it was more along the lines of suggestions being thrown out to her about how a rap feature would sound nice in her songs. it’s most likely a good combination of both.

a familiar beat is playing in the background, and it’s only then that she notices that minwoo is going through a mock tracklist that suji had come up with for her next album. though it’s a tad bit early to be sure whether or not all the songs will be confirmed or not, she likes to think that she at least has a good ear when it comes to her own albums. humming along to the melody of one of the songs, she goes silent when the rap feature comes on.

“what about a vocal feature? have you ever done that before?”

“just last month, i released that portal.” it’s not meant to sound defensive, but suji can’t remember if she’s done anything beyond loveship when it comes to any type of vocal duet.

for a moment, minwoo doesn’t say much before going onto the next song which also was written with a rap feature in mind. he presses pause on the computer before pulling up the other computer chair in the studio and sitting right across her. “i think a vocal duet would be nice for this next album since you have a lot of songs with raps on it anyway. it might even be easier to write. this way you don’t have to wait around and just write the lyrics on your own.” she wants to say that she doesn’t mind waiting for her featuring rappers to send their raps for her to confirm, but it has been a bother in the past especially if the featuring artist was busy which they usually were. with a purse of her lips, she simply nods once before pressing the space bar once more to play her tracks.

with fuse and individual schedules, suji had found it difficult to find the time to write. it’s been a couple of weeks since her last time at minwoo’s studio, and this time she seems to be alone. the lights are off as she punches the passcode and lets herself in. the notebook that she’d left behind from last time is exactly where she left it, and she can’t help but smile at how minwoo just seems to leave her things where they are though she’s told him over and over again how he can push it to the side during the days she has to leave in a hurry.

sitting down, she looks at the notebook in which she had scribbled down some notes. she couldn’t finish it that day as her thoughts were occupied by minwoo’s words, but she remembers where the inspiration came from. it’s typical suji to get inspired by movies and dramas. just from her notes, she can replay the scene she got inspiration from in her head: the female lead looking out the bus window and wiping away her tears as a smile starts to form on her face.

for someone with not a lot of love experience, suji has a tendency to write songs about love and relationships. not particularly a choice seeing that a lot of songs out there pertain to such topics, but sometimes she surprises herself with how often she finds herself writing about such things. it’s what prompts all those questions in her interviews about whether or not her lyrics are personal or not. they are personal, yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s one hundred percent something she’s been through herself.

her life’s not that interesting enough anyway.

looking back at her notes, she remembers the story about how the female lead had tried again and again to get back with her ex-lover, hoping to reconcile things between them. the constant flashbacks to their happier moments and the warm feelings that would seep through her body whenever she thought of him. or at least that’s what she thought.

it took meeting someone that actually cared for her and listened to her for her to realize that it wasn’t the person that she missed but the times. that’s something that she can relate to. there’s a couple of friends that she remembers from her childhood, and they were the ones that are always lingering around in her childhood memories. the afternoons at the park or lunches in the school cafeteria. a couple years ago, she’d look back at these times and wonder what those same friends are doing now but now, she came to the realization that they weren’t really that great of friends. they stood around when their other classmates would point out how different amelia was from the rest of them. thinking back to it now, they really weren’t that great of friends. but the childhood nostalgia is real, and the moments she shared with them aren’t incredibly terrible.

suji simply misses the time when she was an innocent child who could do lots without much consequences. however, she doesn’t miss them.

perhaps that’s why she started scribbling down these notes as soon as she finished the scene, and why she’s come back to it. the emotions come pouring out in a moment of black words onto the white piece of lined paper.

in a few moments, the lined paper is filled up with verses and a chorus. it’s something that looks more like a cry of mixed up nostalgia disguised into a song of a romantic relationship. suji takes pride in being able to write lyrics that people relate to, and it’s the perspective she takes in making things vague but specific enough so that a larger amount of people can find them worth relating to.

there’s still some revisions to do especially when it comes to the way the words fall together, but she’s got a story. a story that began from a television drama but was completed with a spark of memory.

when we were two is what she writes at the top and though she’s unsure if the title will stick, she’s satisfied with what she’s written.

“suji-yah, sometimes you write like you’ve been through two divorces.”

it’s not the feedback she expects, but it’s typical jaehyuk talk. he’s always straightforward and has an odd way of expressing his reactions to her work. but he’s also super helpful. if minwoo’s like her little fairy godmother that snaps his fingers and figures out exactly what she’s looking for, jaehyuk’s like a harsh captain that makes her pull the sails herself though he was steering the wheel into the right direction the whole time.

either way, she doesn’t know where she’d be without both of them.

like a good amount of her songs, the basis begins with the piano. it’s basic and simple, but she believes that it is always a nice place to start. everything gets built off of chords anyway, and the sound of the piano is what seems to go well with her voice anyway. though the backtrack is still bare, suji can already tell that the key signature isn’t going to be the happiest. the lyrics aren’t about some spring outing or a walk in the park. it’s all about looking back at what used to be and realizing that the times were great even if the person wasn’t. it’s about this deep feeling of regret that’s not actually regret but rather nostalgia. she thinks it’s a difficult emotion to express through an instrumental, but she’d like to try her best.

the melody for the chorus comes to her first which is quite common when it comes to her working process. a strong chorus is important to suji, and so she usually ends up coming up with it first. however, unlike some of her previous songs, it doesn’t come right away. she has to sing the words to herself a couple of times, rewrite some of the bending and work on the way she wants the lines to flow until she settles on something that she likes. looking over, jaehyuk is working on something on his own, but the moment she figures out a chorus melody she likes, he gives her a thumbs up, and it feels like she’s floating on cloud nine.

she’s interrupted for a moment when her phone lights up. it’s an excited text from minwoo telling her that one of her songs have been confirmed for the album, and how he’d received the rap recording from the featuring artist. biting down on her lip, she’s reminded of minwoo’s words a couple of months ago.

“oppa, you mind singing this for me? any key works for now,” she asks before singing the chorus a couple of times so that jaehyuk can revise it to fit his own voice. but jaehyuk’s quick, and he’s been listening in to her working on the song that he figures it out in no time.

almost immediately, a smile spreads across her face before she pulls his chair over to bring him in front of the mic that she’s been singing in front of. she asks him to record it for her and soon she has the chorus in her voice and jaehyuk’s.

“don’t tell me you need me on this song or something.” there’s a scrunch of jaehyuk’s nose, but she knows that he’s not too bothered by it. it’s just the way he is.

“no, but you’d work as a nice guide vocal.” admittedly, she already has one or two voices in her head that she thinks will work well with her own and she makes a mental note to herself to reach out to them when she can. hopefully the timing and song will work out in her favor. if not, she’s gonna have to adjust things again to fit some other voice.

things go rather smoothly from there. suji sticks to the sound of the piano in the beginning of the track, preferring for the vocal line to be more prominent than the instrumental. it’s cliche, but she’d like the song to build as it is highly emotional. the most emotional part of the song should be the last chorus, and so she needs minimal instruments in the beginning.

by the time the first chorus comes by, all she’s added was the synth and drum along with the piano. the second verse minimizes the piano and includes a few strings and guitar. something different but not too different that the instruments overpower the vocals.

time flies when she’s in the studio, and she doesn’t realize that she’s spent pretty much all day working on the song until she’s done. she saves the file three different times all with three different names so that she can send them out to the people she had in mind.

jaehyuk is sleeping on the couch in the back since she had him record the guide first before she went ahead and added her own voice onto the track. he tells her that he’ll email the respective companies tomorrow since she has schedules.

she’s not sure what she’d do without him.

luckily, things do work out in her favor, and she ends up getting the okay for both duri and jae to be on her track. unfortunately, they’re all too busy to meet up and record the track together. although she doesn’t really sing a whole lot of the song, it’s still technically her’s and will be on her album, and so she’s the first to record.

the gold star recording studios basically feel like home now as she does some vocal warm ups to soothe out her vocal cords. jaehyuk and minwoo are both outside, but they tell her that they’d like for her to guide them the way she wants the song to sound. though she’s taken back by the sudden proposition, she does have quite a clear idea of how she wants the vocals and overall song to sound so it doesn’t sound like too much work.

with jaehyuk and her vocals coming through the headsets in the form of a vocal guide, she simply starts singing the whole song. one, because she’d like to warm up her vocals a little more before officially getting into recording and two, because it also helps build her own emotions when it comes to the song.

after a few recordings, she gives them an okay sign which indicates that she’s ready to begin. it takes a couple of tries before she gets the sound she wants out from her own voice. jaehyuk’s quick to replay it for her, and she bites the inside of her cheek—something doesn’t feel entirely right.

“i’m gonna try that part again, oppa. i think i should tone down my vibrato and go with a straight tone instead.” jaehyuk doesn’t bother responding before turning the track back on. suji goes back to think about her initial thoughts when it came to the song. the song’s not some sad breakup song like some of the ones she’s sung before. it’s not meant to be overly sad or regretful. it’s meant to be more along the lines of acceptance. acceptance that one realizes that they’re allowed to hold onto memories despite not missing the person involved in the memories. the vocals should be calm and composed but still strong.

so that’s exactly how she records it this next time.

“i think that sounds really good.” she hadn’t realized it, but she’s closed her eyes and sang the whole song in one take with those thoughts lingering in her head. minwoo’s voice is what exactly makes her open her eyes again, and the faces of her helping producers tell her that it’s a sound that they’re all going to be satisfied with.

they replay it for her, and she likes the calmness that her voice holds. stepping out of the studio, she gives them high fives and goes to sit down beside jaehyuk to hear it once more. her thoughts don’t change, and she concludes that her recording session is over.

“do you mind telling bc and dimensions that i’d like duri oppa and jae’s voices to sort of mimic mine? you know, collected but strong. as if they’re speaking to an old friend and retelling their memories. as jaehyuk oppa said about me, maybe tell them to imagine that they’ve just gone through a clean and mutual divorce and are reminiscing on the times that were once good and not too regretful.”

that gets her a laugh from both producers, but they say yes anyway.

she can’t wait to hear the completed song.

#fmdverification #( ♡ * // self para: happiness. )#[ finished my verifs for her album hell yeah ]#[ i'm never doing this again ]

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itsstickball · 6 years ago

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Can you please write more of the rivalry thing? It’s soooo good. I would love to see Neil’s teams reaction

I didn’t forget you, I promise!! Here is Rivalry pt. 3: All Star Week

(pt.1 pt. 2)

Three days before the start of All Star week, Neil makes the mistake of posting the kitten video he meant to send as a private message directly to his twitter feed. In the clip, a kitten bats away a ball a few times before missing three in a row. The final attempt, the ball goes directly over its head and the kitten topples backwards trying to stop it. By the time he figured out that it hadn’t gone directly to Andrew, there were several hundred likes already. Rather than try to find the tutorial again on how to delete a twitter post, he tags Andrew in a comment instead and adds #shootout.

He doesn’t realize the magnitude of his mistake until he’s sitting in front of a camera, geared up for the shoot-out event, with a microphone two inches from his face and an excited looking reporter.

They’ve made it through the general questions. How does it feel to be called an All Star after only three years in the professional league? (Satisfying, but not as good as being signed to Court last spring). Which event is he looking forward to the most? (The final game, obviously) Does he have any tricks up his sleeve for the shootout? (We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?) The sudden gleam in the reporter’s eyes should have tipped Neil off that things were about to go a bit sideways, but he was running on an Exy high and so dismissed it as fervor for the sport he loved.

Looking back, he can practically hear Andrew’s voice in his head: “Junkie.”

“Speaking of the shootout, we can’t help but wonder; most guys -”

“- And girls.”

“Right, most guys and gals treat this week as a celebration of talent, putting aside rivalries and bad blood to just enjoy the sport, but it fans seem to think from your recent social media postings that this might not be the case for you.”

Neil tried to think about which post, in particular, the reporter is referring to. The only person he can remember roasting recently is Nicky, and he’s in Germany doing – well, Neil doesn’t actually know what he’s doing (Erik aside). Thankfully, the reporter had taken his blank look in stride and then exposed more on the situation. Truthfully though, Neil didn’t hear much more than “Minyard” and “kitten.” His expression flattened further as the lightbulb in his head went off. He still didn’t get the merit of his so called rivalry with Andrew, but apparently it made for good media coverage and the blonde hadn’t mentioned anything about stopping it or setting the record straight, so Neil didn’t fight it either.

He shrugged at the reporter.

“Someone told me once that life imitated art. So I guess we’ll just have to see if that’s true or not. With no plays to analyze, Andrew will have to actually put some effort in to protect his goal today.”

Unfortunately – or fortunately, really, for the media. Andrew did not imitate the cat video and stopped roughly 80% of the shots. Of Neil’s, he missed one and blocked the other.

After that, the goalie sat and watched as the rest of the players took part in passing, aim, trick shots, speed, and one-on-one competitions – most of which kept Neil busy.

When it came time for the one-on-one, Neil grinned when he saw who his first opposing backliner would be. Jean seemed less than enthused, but Neil was more than used to that by now. Just because Jean wasn’t smiling didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying himself. If anything, his resting bitch face was just as famous as Andrew’s – maybe more.

The backliner turned his head when Neil called out his name and a greeting in French, his expression flattening when he realized who was talking to him. Annoyance was easily Jean’s most common reaction to Neil’s presence, but he put up with him nonetheless.

“Ah, so you’ve come to antagonize someone other than the midget for once.”

He answered in French. Neil faked shock with a hand to his chest as he jogged over to where Jean stood, but let out a laugh.

“I’m wounded that you think so little of me, Jean, really.”

“Yes, little.” Jean replied, icily looking down at Neil. Their height difference was supremely pronounced now that they stood next to each other. Neil gave him a wry look for that one, but Jean had a point. Instead he tugged on the corner of Jean’s sleeve.

“How about instead of insulting my mother’s genes, we talk about your new team. Please tell me you switched for the captain, not for the color scheme.”

The Sacramento Sentinels were a relatively new team, with only one full season under their belt. They also chose the colors gold and black to represent them – both of which Jean wore at some point during his college career. Neil was far more interested in Jean’s reunion with exy’s golden boy Jeremy Knox than any homage to the backliner’s former teams. He watched with a grin as Jean’s eyes involuntarily sought Jeremy out among the players. He scowled when he looked back down and saw Neil’s amused expression.

“Just for that, I’m not letting you get twenty feet from the goal, ma puce!”

Neil laughed as Jean pushed him to the bench with a large hand on his face and then stalked away. His grin only grew when he saw that Jean was, in fact, heading over to where Jeremy was talking with their coach for the game at the end of the week.

True to his word, Jean kept Neil well away from any easy close shots on goal, forcing the striker to resort to a strange trick-shot hail-mary that made it in more on luck than skill. Jean snorted and shook his head when Neil cheered at the goal, but he accepted Neil’s handshake-turned-hug nonetheless.

The rest of the week was a blur of exy and stolen moments with Andrew in the locker room or hotel. Andrew’s transfer to Denver at the end of last season put him in the same division as Neil, meaning they’d have to play and practice on the same team for the All Star game. The increased proximity brought great joy to the striker, even if Andrew continued to glare as he batted Neil’s shots away or look bored as they sailed past him.

Neil could feel the measured looks and camera focus whenever the team practiced for the game at the end of the week.

On Wednesday, after the sixth shot that Andrew had rebounded with just enough force that the strikers had to sprint to rebound it, their All Star coach called for a break. Neil removed his helmet and turned to face Andrew from half court.

“Are you going to shut Kevin out like that on Saturday?” He called out in Russian, not bothering to keep his voice down. From what he knew, none of the others on their team spoke the language. Andrew followed suit, taking his gear off and letting everything but his helmet and stick fall carelessly to the floor.

“What will you give me in return?”

Andrew tossed back. He sounded bored, but just the fact that he was replying at all told Neil he was interested in the deal.

“What, the sheer satisfaction of denying Kevin doesn’t do it for you anymore?”

He shot back, earning one of Andrew’s arm guards thrown at his face. Aware of the eyes watching them from the outer court and the open door, Neil grinned and put as many expletives in his answer as possible.

Andrew rolled his eyes, finally coming up to where Neil stood waiting. He grabbed his glove from the red-head’s grip and pointed it menacingly at him. In English, he said.

“Someone ought to wash that mouth of yours out before it gets you in trouble.”

Only when Andrew stomped past them did Neil take note of the reporters who had paused in their interview of a Dallas backliner to watch their little interaction. His smile turned a little less genuine and slightly sharper until they went back to what they were doing. He didn’t bother to collect any of Andrew’s gear, but hummed to himself as he fetched his water-bottle and then sat down to chat with his fellow strikers.

Andrew hadn’t said no.

He did, however, put fuck all effort into guarding his goal in the preliminary game against the Pacific division on Friday though. Neil flicked him off when he realized what Andrew was doing, grateful that he would only be playing one half. Because the goalie was putting zero effort in, it meant that Neil and the other strikers who played first half had to double theirs in order to keep the goal differential down.

“I fucking hate you.”

Neil wheezed, gasping for breath as they headed back to the locker room afterward. He’d never cared much for the shows that supposedly big stars put on during the halftime breaks at professional games, and he especially didn’t care about whatever spectacle they had planned between the preliminary games and the final All-Star match. No, after clinching a 10-9 win, all he wanted to do was rest until he had to get up and do it all again against the Eastern teams.

Andrew, lumbering ahead of him and quite unaffected by it all, didn’t even have the good graces to wait for him.

“No, Junkie, that’s my line. Or did all that running finally scramble your brain?”

“Ugh. Always.”

Neil groaned and though the look Andrew shot him for it was lethal, he was willing to bit it tugged into a smile as he shouldered through the doorway into the locker rooms. A few of his teammates tried to talk to him about the game, how it went well, all things considered and such things, but he mostly tuned them out as he grabbed his water bottle and joined the string of people disbanding into the locker room.

They played first, so the Central team had over an hour to sit and mingle. Neil smiled when he saw a couple of his teammates and members of the Pacific team walking around with their jersey and a marker. When the first one got to him, he asked what it was for. Laila Dermott grinned down at him, making sure that he took the items and started signing as she spoke.

“Some of the players just keep them as souvenirs – a cool way to remember all of the people they played with that year. A couple of us auction them off for charity. This year the proceeds are going to Stand Up For Kids. It’s an organization working to help homeless kids and those out on the streets.”

“Oh, cool.”

Neil said, a bit stunned by the generosity. He knew from Nicky’s ranting how much a normal jersey worn by a professional athlete could go for, let alone one signed by this many of them.

“Ah yes, gotta keep them off the streets,” Andrew piped up. Somehow, Neil had missed him coming up beside them. “Wouldn’t want them to get into anything dangerous.”

Laila frowned, but Neil didn’t think trying to engage Andrew on some social justice issue was worth the risk. He cut her off by handing her the jersey and marker back and replying himself.

“Don’t be a dick, Andrew.”

The blonde made a show of plucking the Jersey out of his fellow goalie’s hands and signing his name in the largest space available. He flicked his gaze back up to Neil even as he held the shirt and marker back out to Dermott.

“Who said I was?”

Neil let out a huff and stood, grateful that he’d brought slides to wear between games rather than his usual running shoes.

“I’m not doing this here.”

He said. He gave Laila a brief smile and then headed for the hallway. Hopefully most of the reporters would have returned to the outer court to watch the Eastern and Southern division teams play. At the very least, he could find an open office somewhere. Behind him, he heard the noise from the locker room crescendo as someone opened the door behind him. As it swung shut, he faintly heard someone asking if they should stop Minyard from following him. Neil sincerely hoped they didn’t – for everyone’s sake.

When Andrew closed the office door behind them, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world, Neil felt something settle. Of course, just because he was more comfortable this way didn’t mean he wasn’t cross with Andrew still. The blonde seemed unimpressed as he turned to see how Neil was leaning up against the desk, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Are you going to spit it out, or waste my time staring?”

“I’m not mad about the comments to Dermott.” He clarified, mostly because he knew Andrew would be entirely uninterested if he thought that was what had Neil bothered. Then again, he probably wouldn’t like the actual topic of his ire either. Neil sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a habit of frustration he’d picked up from Matt.

“You couldn’t have blocked…I don’t know, half of the shots?”

He asked exasperatedly. True to form, Andrew’s expression flattened.

“That,” He enunciated with great boredom and disdain. “Wasn’t our deal.”

Four words. All it took was four words for Neil to be simultaneously filled with petty ire and a huge sense of relief and satisfaction. Because when Andrew implied that something wasn’t a part of a deal, it meant that there was something else that was.

“Oh.”

Neil breathed, letting all of his anxiety wash out with it.

Andrew looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. He stepped into Neil’s space.

“Yes, or no?”

Neil’s eyes were drawn to the curve of Andrew’s neck, the golden sheen of his eyes in the dimly lit room, the way his lips were slightly damp from licking them. Compulsively, he licked his own lips, but his eyes strayed to the clock on the far wall.

“We don’t have a lot of time before we have to get back, someone’s bound to notice us missing for too long.”

The dead look Andrew gave him said he’d wait for an actual answer. Neil heeded his own observation, however, and didn’t waste time talking. Instead, he leaned forward the last few inches and aligned his lips with Andrew’s.

Later, the final buzzer sounded and Neil whirled to face the scoreboard with a grin. He always had the goals running in his head, but it was indescribably satisfying to have the numbers glowing down at him from the jumbotron. Central 6, Eastern 5. They’d won. Even if it was only by the one point, Neil felt the victory singing in his veins. His teammates yelled and jumped off of each other like they hadn’t just run their legs out for the past twenty minutes. Neil joined them briefly before turning his attention to the goal.

Andrew never joined his teams in celebrations - not once he was sober, and no one ever tried to include him. It was a bit of a shock then to see him leaning casually on his stick talking to another player. The surprise mitigated significantly, however, when he realized that the other player was Kevin. Judging by his stance, he didn’t seem to be picking a fight, but with Kevin and Andrew that was always just a breath away from changing.

Neil excused himself with a slap on the back from the huddle of players to jog over to them. As he joined them, he caught the tail end of Kevin’s sentence.

“…tell me it wasn’t worth it.”

“Mmm,” Andrew mused, taking a moment like he actually had to think about his answer. Neil almost felt bad for how Kevin fell for it every damn time.

“Not quite.” He said, to Kevin’s vocal dismay. Then his eyes slid over to where Neil stood just behind Kevin’s shoulder. “Not yet.”

Kevin made another half-squawk as he turned around to follow Andrew’s gaze, but his expression narrowed when he saw it was just Neil.

“Of course.” He muttered, running a gloved hand down his face. He gave Neil a disapproving look.

“If I were to take his neck guard off, how many hickies would I see?”

Neil grinned wolfishly, but it was Andrew who replied.

“Why don’t you come try to find out for yourself, Kev?”

The taller striker shot a fearful glance behind him and then physically shook it off.

“God you two were meant for each other. How anybody thinks you’re rivals is blind to the most blatant sexual tension I’ve ever seen.”

He grumbled, removing his gloves and clearly getting ready to leave the court. Neil didn’t mind dragging their conversation out, but Kevin seemed to have a sixth sense for how long a private conversation could be before it drew unwanted media attention.

“It was a good game!” Neil called out after him, earning a sharp grin and a wave from Kevin, even if he didn’t stop walking away.

Andrew caught his attention again my poking him in the chest with his racquet. Neil lifted his eyebrows in question.

“Go shower before the exy stench sinks even further into you.” He said in Russian. Neil mirrored the grin he’d given Kevin.

“And here I thought it was too late for that.”

Andrew didn’t respond to that, just pushed Neil towards the locker room again with the giant head of his racquet.

When he was ten steps away, Andrew called out again from behind him.

“And don’t antagonize any fucking reporters. You have a deal to uphold!”

At this, Neil just laughed and flicked Andrew off behind his back.

Unsurprisingly, someone got a great picture of it to plaster across exy news and fan sites alike in the morning. Neil saved it to his phone and then rolled back over into the warm spot Andrew left when he got up to pee.

#aftg #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #minyard-josten rivalry #the rivalry #all for the game #Jean moreau #Kevin day #blink and you miss it jerejean #can you tell I follow hockey?#this was way longer than I thought when I was writing it #mkkd2611 #you are my first ask and I will cherish you forever

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thejenesaisquoigirl · 5 years ago

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DnD Ask Meme- Talise

Link to original, blank meme: https://thejenesaisquoigirl.tumblr.com/post/186529464305/dnd-asks More about my tiefling swashbuckler under the cut~!

1) What would they consider to be their biggest failure?

Oof. Maybe not being able to save her family, or at least her sister-in-law and nephew. Maybe her (former) deep reliance on alcohol once her memories started coming back. Trauma is a motherfucker

2) What’s the story behind their name?

When I first went to grad school visit days at my current institution two years ago, there was another person interviewing with a name that sounded similar. Really loved it and added on LaPearl for her alias’ last name (for her eyes). Her birth name is my Warden from Dragon Age Origins (Hozanna Cousland, only more french) since the backstory shares a lot of similarities.

3) What’s their relationship with their family?

When she was Hosanna, very close. They all loved learning (though maybe different things), the people in their city, and each other. She was closest to her brother, Yanis, despite their age difference. She felt adrift after losing them and finding Yanis has upset any equilibrium she was finding.

4) What’s one song that describes them or is them?

The cover of Rise that Superfruit did on their channel

5) Who is their best friend?

Yanis was her best friend growing up; the years after losing him were rough but she was working towards a place of resignation...then they found him alive. As Talise, it’s super weird because yes, her brother used to be able to embarrass her in her previous life; but now, it’s the first time she’s ever felt shame. Hosanna, while sharing a small flair for the dramatic, was a very different person than Talise was crafted to be. But in the party, Jax is the closest to a best friend.

6) Why are they their class?

She was reincarnated by a coast druid, and it was only natural to join a crew due to not remembering her past right away. Her previous skill with dueling with a rapier mixed with her familiarity with locks led to her embellishing her new self into the type of sailor one would find in a storybook.

7) What do they think of their party members?

She feels distinct lines in the sand amongst the party. At first, said lines seemed only about their sleeping habits (there was no other way the rooming arrangements could have shaken out and everyone live). But now, it feels very much like two separate factions working together. Separately: Q- she’s terrified of everything she does being in that book, and she has a hard time wrestling with his innocent naiveté when it reminds her of who she used to be. Briony- Not used to being around women in a strictly friendship sense, but is happy for her presence so Q has someone of a similar maturity. Braxton- He’s rarely there. Annoyed yet darkly amused when he takes point with trap checking and lock-picking; annoyed because she assumes he believes himself an expert in everything (maybe due to him being slightly misogynistic)...amused because she's better and it’s funny to watch him fail due to his own hubris. Jax- They instinctually understand each other. It’s complicated but in a good way as she thinks the world of him. Caspian- Like recognizes like but she feels they have different motivations behind collecting information...and it’s hard for her to move beyond a betrayal of trust. She does enjoy bantering with him and sharing a penchant for innuendo.

8) In what ways are they similar to you?

Insightful, observant, curious, collector of knowledge, has two sides to protect her softness

9) In what ways are they different from you?

Unashamed in the way she moves through the world, unabashedly flirtatious and teasing, confident, how she copes with things (tends to be physical indulgences), seeing trust as black and white, unafraid of confrontation or large birds

10) What do they look for in a romantic partner, if they have a romantic orientation?

She’s super pan and attracted to interesting people. She loves those who keep her guessing and have layers she can explore without ever becoming bored. With a lot of hidden quirks, they need to be fine in indulging her intense love for museums or sleeping in until the latest time possible. Because of stuff that happened in her past, she needs someone who she feels safe with and who can handle that baggage. Someone who can keep up with her banter but who can be soft with her; she wants an equal partner and not someone who she has to take the reins from all the time. So confidence, intelligence, depth, strength, compassion.

11) If they had a patronus or animagus form, what would it be?

Ooooooooo....idk. Maybe a panther animagus? Something that slinks around with confidence but can be very soft. Patronus would be a cat like Talis or a hippogriff like Fantôme...or a peafowl.

12) What do they smell like?

The ocean and "oriental” notes with hints of coconut and citrus. Someone who has sailed the coastline would have had the opportunity to collects lots of sachets of things to scent their clothing along with various oils, etc which lends itself to the “oriental” perfume family.

13) What is their secret skill?

Sketching/drawing. She’s intensely private about it; but has charcoal, pencils, and a sketchbook in her pack that’s rather like a diary.

14) What is their relationship to spirituality?

Non-existent save for some superstitions. Hosanna was religious but not superstitious; Talise reversed it as she had a hard time retaining her faith in anything.

15) If they were to be remembered for something, what would they want to be remembered for?

NOT for what happened in her previous life, unless that remembrance served the greater good. She’d just like to be remembered, in general, rather than lost to lines in a book. She wants people to speak kindly of her and the small amount of goodness she’s put into the world.

16) Why did they become an adventurer?

Chance meeting in Dolcino when she was taking a break from sailing haha And news of Yanis came up on their travels so she had to see it through.

17) What’s one thing about their backstory that came to you after you already started playing the campaign?

One notable thing--hadn’t even thought about her being an alcoholic (sober now) until making her playlist. For some reason, “Chandelier” kept coming up and it had to have been a sign because it’s deepened her in ways I wasn’t expecting. Also her tattoos. And her not being a morning person xD

18) Do you have any headcanons for them that haven’t come up in game? Or headcanons for other party members?

Absolutely. Her tattoos and why she has them (only one person in the party has probably seen them); what drove her to her alcoholism; and her sketching. Other party members: Q- that he has tried to teach some magic to Quirrel enough times that Quirrel can mimic the somatic components of some spells; that he’s instantly awake in the mornings with a pep in his step. Briony- that she genuinely doesn’t know or understand how privileged she is and so makes statements about some type of princess-y thing she thinks is normal but is very much not. Jax- he has Talise braid his hair before sleeping because it’s more effective than a ponytail in keeping it neat at night; he quietly chats with Francis when he needs to think through things weighing on his mind; he keeps a tiny, secret notebook to make notes to himself on things he remembers, things he enjoys, etc. Caspian- when he reads dialogue he really likes in books, he’ll speak it aloud until he figures out the exact voice for the character so he can use it for later;

19) Any ships with your character? If a PC or NPC, what interaction launched it?

She’s the first character in a LONG time I legit ship with another PC. Whether it becomes romantic or remains platonic (it’s not just up to me or Talise), Jax is the most significant person in her life–excluding her brother. They just got each other from day one and they seem to be the only ones able to easily talk to the other, even when the subject is difficult. The canon you created about her feeling safe with Jax is 100% true; ever since Before, she has a hard time sleeping around other people but she trusts him enough to even share a bed…and he’s the only one with whom she would never be anything but truthful. At their core, they are people reinventing themselves after tragedy but don’t know if they’re doing it right. But Jax makes Talise feel it’s alright to be who she authentically is rather than acting the part she’s written for herself; and to find joy again in the things from her past. The ship’s legit launch was after their serious conversation about “equivalent exchange” in relationships (about Caspian) and has since been buoyed by all their side chats + interactions. “…are you just going to stare at me?” “Until you’re ready.”

20) What would your character consider their biggest success? Or what is your favorite success your character has had so far?

Finding her brother and beginning to reconcile Hosanna with Talise. My favorite success was that conversation mentioned above...or successfully surprising characters and peeps with her backstory drops.

#dnd #ref for character #food for asks #reference #fuzzy feathers #dnd ask meme #dnd asks

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johnboothus · 4 years ago

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From Mixologist to Master Taster Old Foresters Jackie Zykan Is Officially a Major Name in Bourbon

Old Forester master taster Jackie Zykan became a household name earlier this year — albeit in a literal sense.

When the brand released the first expression of its highly coveted 117 Series “High Angels’ Share” in March 2021, Zykan etched her name in history by having her signature on the label. The unique packaging design also meant Zykan’s name would soon populate whiskey collections up and down the country — or at least, those of enthusiasts who were lucky enough to get their hands on the limited-edition run.

Any exploration of Zykan’s career cannot ignore that she is among the small number of women to hold a high-profile role in bourbon, an industry that has has a long legacy of male founders, owners, and master distillers. In fact, hers is the first name to adorn an Old Forester label that doesn’t belong to a man. But focusing on the historic nature of her signature on the 117 Series bottle risks distracting from the whiskey inside, and from her growing force within bourbon as a whole.

While the 117 Series is the first Old Forester release to be solely directed by Zykan, it is not the first expression she has had a hand in that had an impact on the bourbon world. Last year, she worked alongside master distiller Chris Morris to comprise three separate blends from 150 barrels for the Old Forester 150th Anniversary Bourbon. Released with a suggested retail price of $150, bottles quickly became collectors’ items and now command four or five times as much in retail channels (and even more in illegal online marketplaces). During the pandemic, Zykan also spearheaded Old Forester’s Master Tasters selection, a popular program that saw single-barrel releases sold for curbside pickup, with a portion of proceeds donated to charities in Louisville.

In a recent virtual sit-down with VinePair, Zykan discussed the singular nature of her role as a master taster; how her previous professional endeavours have led to more “resistance” in the whiskey industry than her gender; and what exactly the release of the 117 Series means to her.

[Editor’s note: This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.]

1. Your official title at Old Forester is “Master Taster.” Can you explain what that role entails and how it differs from a master distiller or a master blender?

As it stands right now, my job focuses more on the post-maturation side of things than the pre-maturation side. I take what’s already been laid down and then decide what to do with it from that point forward. There is no clear-cut, industry-standard definition for master taster. My role, in particular, is half production and half global marketing.

New product development also comes through me. I’m transitioning more into the master blender side, but the main difference between my role and a master blender is the authority to make decisions on certain things. Right now, I’m still working very much hand-in-hand with Chris Morris on a lot of our projects, especially things that he started before I was with the brand. I do lead our single-barrel inventory, though, and programs like the 117 Series and President’s Choice. Every day, I’m getting more involved in projects and taking over Old Forester — whether they want me to or not, I’m doing it.

2. You studied biology and chemistry, then later worked in mixology. How do those different fields inform and help your day-to-day work?

The science education background has been crucial not just to my own understanding of our processes, but also to be able to communicate with a variety of audiences. We’re never just talking to whiskey nerds or bartenders, or the random consumer that only drinks vodka and wants to switch over. The audiences are very diverse. When it comes to new product development, the science background also helps to understand what’s going on from a molecular standpoint, and how to curate different whiskey flavor profiles.

The mixology part is interesting because, while I can’t speak for our competitors, I think I’m the only master taster [Old Forester parent company] Brown-Forman has ever had that has actual experience in the bar industry. Knowing what we can and should be doing with cocktails adds another layer of being able to connect with potential consumers.

3. What trends do you see leading bourbon right now, whether from a “purist” standpoint or the broader market in general?

Different perspectives will give you different answers on this. I think we’re still in the midst of the high-proof movement, and we definitely see that translate into what moves in our portfolio. I wouldn’t say that’s a new thing, and I think there’s a lot behind the high-proof whiskey surge. People get acclimated to the category and realize, “Oh, I actually am not afraid of the taste of this brown spirit.” Then, it’s not enough to just be able to drink bourbon, you have to drink the biggest bourbon and the most expensive bourbon. For somebody that has access to barrel-strength liquid and chooses to not drink it on a regular basis, the race to see who can consume the highest percentage of alcohol is fascinating. Back in the day, nobody was searching for Bacardi 151. Now people wait in line for it.

[Another trend is] single barrels. They’re all very unique, and they’re not replicable; I think the snowflake appeal is a huge part of it. I’ve gotten a lot of feedback from retailers that I’ve done tastings with in recent weeks that want to come to the distillery for single-barrel selection. They don’t want to grab the core stuff anymore.

[We’re also seeing] people play around with mash bills — and you’re always going to see that until people realize that novelty is not sustainable. It’s nice to have fun every now and then, but making sure that you are transparent about your process and doing things from a quality standpoint is timeless.

4. We are around two decades into a “bourbon boom,” the likes of which we have probably never seen before. What can producers such as Old Forester do to ensure that bourbon never goes the way of vodka, which still enjoys incredible sales but doesn’t quite have the cachet that it once did?

There’s a lot of interesting things to unpack here but I [should first say] we are very grateful for the boom. People such as myself have amazing jobs with great brands because of it.

I was once told that alcohol trends go through 30-year cycles, so if we really are in the second decade of this, that would mean that we would start to see the decline soon. The thing is, in the U.S. especially, we’re so much closer to the trend, so the boom seems much bigger to us than it is on a global level. It is creeping into global markets now, and we are seeing a lot more movement out there, but I think that there’s still a lot of opportunity for growth until we get to a point of saturation and exhaustion.

[When] other markets further from home (and maybe less regulated) start catching wind, that’s when we risk compromises to the category. I think we are in for a fight that most people probably haven’t anticipated, trying to [enforce] more rigid regulations, especially in more global markets.

We definitely don’t see [the boom] fizzling out any time soon and, fingers crossed, we hope it doesn’t. It’s not like the vodka industry where you can just pluck a flavor off a tree and you have a new product. We’re sitting on inventory and hoping for the best.

5. What is the most exciting time of the year for you in your role, and what do you look forward to most on the bourbon calendar throughout the year?

It used to be that you had the “busy” seasons: September is always busy because of [the annual release of] Birthday Bourbon, and it’s Bourbon Heritage Month. And when the weather starts cooling down in general, you start to see more interest in aged spirits. That is just not the case anymore. It’s a year-round season that does not slow down. From my perspective, Derby season is always equally as chaotic as it is enjoyable; very media-heavy and very taxing. It‘s full-throttle but these are great problems to have.

6. Can you describe how having your signature on the 117 Series felt for yourself, and what it might mean for other women wishing to follow in your footsteps in the bourbon industry?

It’s still surreal, to be honest, and I forget that my name is on the thing. It wasn’t my idea; it was brought up when we were doing label design for the series and [Old Forester president and managing director] Campbell Brown said, “It’s time to give credit where credit is due.”

I think it’s a big deal as far as normalizing [women in] an industry that was, and still is, very male-dominated. I never set out to do that; I didn’t grow up to one day to show them that girls like whiskey, too. More often than not, though, I feel resistance in the whiskey category not from being a woman, but from having a background behind the bar. You get categorized as “once a bartender, always a bartender.” Not a lot of people in roles like mine have that background, as I mentioned earlier. A lot of them either have family members that got them into the business or they have marketing degrees, which I do not. I feel more “black sheep-ish” — if I can use that term — from that sense, rather than from being a woman.

While it is surreal, I will say that when that product came out, it was very nerve-racking. It set the stage for what I’m going to do from this point forward in my career. If I didn’t get it right, it would be a constant fight against the current, trying to prove myself. If I came out of the gate with something solid that people embraced, it would be more smooth-sailing. I’m very happy that the series was well received because that gives me a lot less stress for the next expressions. I know they won’t be all home runs — and that’s OK. It started with a really good one that’s near and dear to my heart.

7. I’ve read that your preferred pour for the 117 Series is over ice to enjoy it over time. That seems to speak to your background in mixology versus pure distillation, especially as some “purists” might raise their eyebrows at that?

I’ve definitely gotten mixed feedback on that since we released the series. I could have bottled it at a higher or lower proof and I would still say, add water to it. The idea remains that when you have barrels that have such concentrated flavor to them, it’s an experience. It’s not taking a sip and then going on with your day. It’s a sit-down, share-it, and talk-about-it whiskey. The moment of whiskey is just as important as the actual liquid itself. It’s a ritual. I didn’t want to shortchange that by going ahead and skipping to the good parts. Letting people explore with it was really part of the intention.

The article From Mixologist to Master Taster, Old Forester’s Jackie Zykan Is Officially a Major Name in Bourbon appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/jackie-zykan-old-forester-bourbon/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/from-mixologist-to-master-taster-old-foresters-jackie-zykan-is-officially-a-major-name-in-bourbon

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago

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April 3, 2021: 6:02 pm:

============================================

My house has been surrounded by a group of people who were trespassing on my property all day since early this morning. The Monroe terror cell is providing scout and watch-dog service for the group, there have been at least four terror soldiers in my yard all day, also are staged at 520 Jackpine, and they brought with them the exotic birds from the Sunflower terror cell.for use as noise cover. I only was able to see one of them, a female, black hair. young looking, under 20 years old is a guess, she is wearing a bright blue shirt, I don’t recognize the girl. I heard others at 520 and at the same time at the mailboxes on the road, and I heard someone was saying some things from there that proved to have been that the person had opened my mailbox and was reading the mail envelopes, I heard the person saying the names and words that are written on the mail envelopes, such as the sender and advertising words, as I noticed after walking to the mailbox to get my mail. That girl had run over towards the Freeberg terror cell by then, tuned around and walked towards the Dietrick terror cell. I think the girl went to the Manning, MedDems terror cell on foot, she disappeared out of view quickly as I was getting my mail out of the mailbox.

These are some of the exotic birds that belong to the Sunflower terror cell, they are still in my yard now, and have been on the roof and hanging around on the front porch and back yard deck making a lot of racket while those people were also hiding on my property, The people have been releasing a poison gas all day, at least one kind that makes blurry vision, and the usual nitrous gas, and it’s the nitrous gas that makes the exotic birds easy to bring over here... the birds will go where ever the nitrous gas is blowing, they follow the gas the same way as the Sparacino terror cell brings the wild turkeys for the noise cover on attack, and also the terror cells use the nitrous to bring deer to a location, as the terror soldiers are actually able to stand next to and hide behind deer while walking along side of deer that are exposed to the nitrous gas as they advance towards an attack location through the woods here.

The people at Monroe terror cell don’t look exactly like Sandy and Jeff, but two people portraying Sandy and Jeff Monroe came outside and were there near my gate when I returned from the mail box. Both of them said to me “Hi!” and used my first name. The one portraying Jeff Monroe would not look at me, he kept his back turned and squatted near the pond over there, while the one portraying Sandy Monroe did look at me. Her hair is not the same as I am used to seeing the current Sandy, Those two people are suspected of being the real Lorena Chapman, and the man that I saw driving the blue Ford F-250 earlier this week and also saw him with someone who looks like the real Lorena Chapman also earlier this week. I don’t think the two people at Monroe’s terror cell are either one of the current Monroe’s that reside there.

====================

Other:

Sometimes I mention a man by the name of Mateo who was a big player in the housing boom of the 1980′s in California and I suspect was someone who came direct from the Vatican to oversee the enormous housing projects that took place back then in the newhall/Saugus/Valencia/Victorville/Palmdale areas. Housing where Canadian terror army soldiers were given brand new homes to live in.

This photo where it says is Freddy Mercury at age 18 looks EXACTLY like Mateo did in the late 1970′s and early 1980′s in the area along the 14 Freeway in California. I feel it’s important, so, there you go.

Mateo in around 1979 - 1981 was the man in charge of a housing tract I worked at for a couple of years doing framing and other carpentry. The reason I feel it important to point out what Mateo looked like is because he was not employed by any of the contractors, nor was he part of the land developer’s general contractor’s foremen or other representatives, yet, he was the man who was there when problems arose, and when the building inspectors came to the job and that was one of my duties for awhile on some of the phases of the tracts along the 14 Freeway, I walked around with the inspector and I had an apprentice with me, and when I did, Mateo also walked around, so, when the inspector marked something to fix, we fixed it right there most of the time, only takes a few minutes mostly. Mateo seemed to be a man who was capable of intimidating the inspectors. He was a giant of a man in many ways, and was about 6′3″ or more tall.

The reason this is so important for me to say, is that those job sites along the 14 Freeway were guarded by men who stayed at the entrances to the neighborhoods we were building, those guards were what I would say as “unconventional guards“ who stayed there watching everyone who drove in there, and they were armed heavy with machine guns to do guard work at a housing tract during the day time, normal working hours, I learned of the machine guns when I drove to work in different truck than I usually drove, and those guys swooped in on me fast, like rocket powered Velcro ...suddenly I was surrounded by all these guys pointing guns at me, all I did was arrive a little late in a different truck. In 1980, those guys had hidden wireless communication devises.

There may be more to say about those massive tracts of houses along the 14 Freeway and around there in Valencia, but I need to speak in person about it to people who know how important this information really is. The tracts of houses in those days were typically 400 homes per phase, and as many as eight to ten phases of tract homes were built in those areas on the same job site. Before I worked in that area along the 14, the biggest phase of tract houses was about 100 homes per phase in areas throughout Ventura County along the 101 Freeway, and that was a lot.

One of the things I would talk about, given an interview, concerns a framing company called Ruffco Construction, I worked for them for awhile, Ruffco was a non-union employer, so I didn‘t stay long, but I learned that the Foremen of Ruffco spoke French. Ruffco was a contractor that trained Canadian terror soldiers to do framing carpentry, then, those carpenters went to work for Union contractors, such as Lee Bolin Construction, the very biggest employer of Carpenters back then ... I worked for Lee Bolin for a long time, and I noticed that as the framers from Ruffco showed up on the Lee Bolin job sites to work, the carpenters that I knew and had worked alongside all of my life stared to disappear.

That is why Mateo is an important figure, because the tradesmen were all killed and replaced as a product of the massive housing tracts along the 14 and other places.

========

7:39 pm:

Other:

This story about Amazon and urine and bottles is likely to have been rolled out as part of a special offensive attack set of shell language as follows:

Screen Actor Guild uses sex terms, bodily function terms, terms that are associated with injuries, sickness, mental conditions, and basically all things that are very “human“ oriented, and are also difficult subject matter for normal people to discuss in mixed company, and that is why those kinds of subject matter, words, ideas, work so well for use as shell language the is suitable for commanding a terror army to advance.

Having said that, the “Urine”, in SAG circles, is associated to “Golden Shower”. I don’t want to spell it out for you, so, the thing to know is the “Urine = Gold = Guild = SAG” ... Guild = Gold and has for a long time, and “Guild” by way of “Gold” has been an identifying word as a SAG ID, also for a long time. I learned of the “Guild = Gold” in around 1972, when I was very young, and the people I was around at the time were using “Gold Lief”, a very thin sort of gold paper that is used by artists to adorn a statue, for instance. They would get a suitable, small statue and some Gold Lief, and afix the statue with it, then, the statue is placed in a window sill somewhere that is visible to passers by at their homes. That Gold Lief Statue was enough to say: “We are SAG Here” when the statue was placed visibly near the front door of the house. I still have one of the Gold Lief Statues that was used that way in my youth.

So, this Amazon urine story is similar to a Gold Lief Statue, the way I am seeing it materialize locally where I live.

I am seeing recently that some of the vehicles have a sticker, like a bumper sticker, the sticker shows a bottle, the bottle is filled with a yellow liquid. Other indicators so far include that I also noticed that one of the vehicles also had a sticker that depicted a set of sails of a sail boat. The sail sticker did not show a boat, only three triangles, in an artful way, depicting sailboat sails on the same vehicle where the yellow filled bottle sticker was placed centrally on a tailgate of an SUV that I saw Wednesday, So far, I have only seen two such yellow bottle stickers on vehicles, but I am cautious about these kinds of things that seem to connect, so, that is the connection that I am seeing develop and some background about why it’s important to be aware of.

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1378519109072261120

===

8:03 pm:

Reminder:

Amazon became what it is today by virtue of stealing everything they have today.

Amazon and Google teamed up together to make a situation where consumers who searched online for products they wanted to purchase, and when they did that, Google presented the search results of places where the searched items could be obtained online. Among the search results was Amazon as a place where the desired product was available, and at Amazon, the desired product was typically offered at $5 less than any other place.

Consumers who chose to make a purchase of the searched items from Amazon, were sent the items from a competing online retailer, and, Amazon billed the customer.

For instance, if someone selected Amazon online for buying an item, say a Toaster, Amazon‘s “Shopping Cart” and billing website was used to make the purchase, however, when the Toaster arrives to the customer, it may have been shipped from Sears & Roebuck.

Somehow, with use of Googles ability to manipulate online commerce, the billing was performed by Amazon, while the shipping was done by some unfortunate retail outlet that was targeted by Google and Amazon to be taken down one product purchase at a time. The customer receives a product from a company such as Sears Roebuck, who shipped the Toaster ... but the Sears was never paid for the Toaster. Instead, Amazon collected the payment through their “Shopping Cart & Billing” website.

I made some purchases that way, the items I bought were not shipped from Amazon, yet the shipper was listed on the invoice, so, I had paid Amazon, then received the product from a company that I did not do business with for that purchase. I think I bought some audio books that way as I recall, paid Amazon online, while some other retailer sent the audio books to the address I listed as the shipping address when I made the purchase from Amazon, as a result of a Google Search for the specific audio books I wanted. I have forgotten where the items were shipped from, but that information may be available to those who do research to find out that Amazon is a Pirate corporation that devoured it’s competition. They have absolutely nothing invested in any of their holdings, it’s all stolen from other retailers such as Sears & Roebuck.

================

10:06 pm:

Horrible poison attack rash update:

The healing is happening, it’s just happening in slow motion.

This photo shows the wound that is on the right side down low on the ankle. I pointed this one out a while back when it still was looking as two separate puncture wounds. Since then, over that past week or so, the two separate puncture wounds have grown into one bigger wound, as all of the others did. You can also see that a number of satalite smaller wounds are forming in the immediate area around the original puncture areas.

Of all the wounds, this one is healing at the slowest rate. There has been no change in it’s appearance for quite some time, it just sits there looking very alien, is not a naturally occurring looking healing wound. I try to peel some of that red scab away, but the pain is way too great, I am not able to get near that without a lot of pain.

Here you can see much improvement over the same area from a week ago as far as the big open sores are concerned.

These photos, unfortunately, are as good as I can get with my flip phone camera. I am not able to purchase a good camera because of the terror take over, the terror bastards simply make the cameras either unavailable or make the purchase conditions so dangerous that any attempt to buy a camera will result in an attack in the store. The UPS, USPS, and Fed-Ex delivery companies are all hijacked by the terror army, so online purchases are not delivered. The last things that I bought online included men with machine guns and poison gas in the delivery truck, I was not injured at the time, and still it was way too dangerous to survive the delivery of things I bought online, The last thing I purchased was a drum set, it came Fed-Ex. When I went out to get the delivery in the driveway, those three men came out of the truck with guns. Had I not used my Bic Lighter to clear the air of the nittous gas that they primed the driveway with, I would have been killed. Instead, those three were killed. The driver was not one of the gunmen, he drove away after throwing my delivered items at me.

I am using some aggressive massage to try to move the poisons towards the wound areas, and it’s working. I squeeze the leg in a direction towards the open sores. Instead of the poisons leaking out of the sores that are already there, new lesions opened up, they are brand new surface level and are there in between those dark colored areas. The camera is not picking up those places very well, but they are there, and the poison is coming out when I massage the leg with pressure in that direction. The leaking poisons are enough that it makes a drip, so, that is substantial and I am going to keep doing that until it won‘t leak out any more.

I do about eight to ten peroxide cleansings per day, and at night smearing the contents of the vitamin E gel-caps onto the open sores is working way better than the neo-sporin did, and the Vitimin E somehow works as a pain reliever. it takes the burning sensation away from when the wound is exposed to air, that hurts real bad when the air comes in contact with the open wound, I am not able to sleep at all even with the vitamin E. I don’t think I have slept more than about two hours at a time for many weeks. The peroxide is showing that there is a lot of poisons in my leg, as it makes a big white foamy froth of cleaning.

The fake doctor at the White City Asante Urgent Care said I needed to have the leg amputated above the knee when I went to try to get medical treatment.

The truth is that I am a United States Citizen, not a Canadian terror soldier, and I am nor a SAG member, and that is why I was not offered medical treatment. All that needed to happen was to open the sores and flush them with cleensing antibiotics, then stitch them back up.

Instead, the asshole terror doctor told me to go somewhere else where an amputation was said to solve the problems.

===

11:03 pm:

Important other thing:

Although massage squeezing to move the poisons from where it’s all pooled up inside of my calf near the wounds is good for getting some of it to come out, it seems to come at some risk also when I de that, and I think I should mention that in case others are also attacked with this double poison injection in locations where the hospitals and medical facilities have been hijacked and are in control of the Canadian terror army like they are in Oregon.

Don’t go to the hospital whatever you do, it is very difficult to leave once you realize that they are going to hand cuff you to the bed like they tried to do to me the last time I was there for medical help in 2015.

The drawback of massaging the area to push that poison out is that after a few minutes of that it makes a scary chest ;pain. That, and my other leg begins to itch like crazy, so, some of the poisons are being forced into the blood stream, and then I suppose the kidneys and liver are going to have some problems later on as a result of those poisons.

Like I said before, I still suspect the two poisons were Freon that is used for air conditioners, and that is pooled up in my foot, and seems to stay t here. The other poison I suspect is car battery acid, and that is the stuff that s leaking out with the massage technique. I have a Wahl brand muscle vibration massage thing, it has a large flat surfaced vibrating foot sort of thing, and that is what is working to loosen up the poisons in the leg, but like I said, after a little while the scary chest pain happens and the itching in the other extremities,

I am still taking lots of fish oil vitamin, and more ibuprofen than I want to take, in effort to keep the blood flowing, the swelling, and mostly the inflammation away.

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pagemichelle1992 · 4 years ago

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How Can I Increase My 4 Year Old Boy Height

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#How Can I Increase Height Naturally After 18 Stunning Cool Tips #What To Eat To Grow Taller After 25

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strawberry-boogie · 7 years ago

Photo

(feature image by Shayan Asgharnia)

I first came in contact with Los Angeles based superhero Sama'an Ashrawi a few months back. I was at my 9-5 when he hit me up via email to talk about the Afrofuturistic web series that he was co-producing for DUST. He had found a piece I’d done on Missy Elliott’s love for spacey visuals and we soon started chatting about media, art, and futuristic Black life.

I figured out pretty quickly that Ashrawi was way more dope than I could’ve ever imagined. He’s met Herbie Hancock, Ladybug Mecca, Thundercat, and countless other legendary creative pillars. Since we’ve been in touch, he’s shared great stories about his life with me and I’m grateful that someone with his experience is that open. I mentioned that I wanted to interview him and he quickly and graciously accepted. So, without further ado, here is my chat with Sama'an Ashrawi, Trill Gladiator.

⭐️

Who are you?

My name is Sama’an, my friends often refer to me as “dad” because:

a) I like to make sure everyone stays hydrated when we go out dancing

b) my dance moves are pretty stiff (almost nailed a Milly Rock last weekend, but I’m not quite there yet), and

c) because I am very much into puns.

I also get called “William Miller” a lot because my hair and career have a lot of similarities to the kid from the movie Almost Famous. This clip = me. From a young age, I’ve been able to gain the trust of, and land interviews with, really big names. I was 20 when I interviewed Raekwon for the first time, 21 when I interviewed Kendrick Lamar and Damian Marley.

What sparked your interest in Afrofuturism?

The short answer is: a combination of things in my upbringing.

The long answer is:

Since I was a teenager, I was into the music of Hendrix and George Clinton and watched plenty of Star Trek thanks to my parents; they met in college as political activists and over the years have introduced me to their many friends who were veterans of various liberation movements. My parents and their friends taught me intersectionality before I was introduced to that term in college.

Though I can’t be sure if it happened on Twitter or in the classroom, I discovered the music of Sun Ra and Fela Kuti and the idea of Afrofuturism as I pursued a minor in African Diaspora Studies. The Af Am classes I took were hugely important in shaping my understanding of the uniqueness of the psychology of the African American experience, but I think it was my parents’ homegrown education that gave me the foundation to be aware of and open to those ideas.

(shot by Sarah Jasmine Montgomery)

College changed my life. It’s where I paid my dues. It’s where I met so many of the people who would open doors for me and help me set my sails. Many of them I still work with to this day. But I think the two most important things I did in college were: becoming a producer at, and eventually entertainment director of, Texas Student TV (our student-run TV station) & minoring in Africa & African Diaspora Studies.

I think when people try to downplay the history of racism in this country, pointing them to Sun Ra is a great rebuttal because it’s like… things were really so bad that Sun Ra wanted to take black people to a whole new planet. That Sun Ra’s escapism was so heavy and yet he could still present it in such a beautiful amd melodic way still blows my mind. In general, I think art that comes from marginalized communities has the ability to cut through the static in a way that is unparalleled— more than a speech ever could.

Have you learned anything in the last week?

Hmmmm what have I learned in the last week? I learn so much from my friends every day, you’re making me want to start a journal dedicated to the things my friends teach me. Some wisdom that my big brother Gary Clark Jr just imparted to me is: when you’re collaborating with someone, it’s like a dance; if you’re moving at two different speeds, you’re gonna trip each other up. So if you feel like you’re moving faster than the other person, pump your brakes.

(shot by Marco Torres)

How did you meet Bun B?

I just had the treat of witnessing him tell this story last time I was in Houston. It’s way more cinematic when he tells it, but, we met almost exactly 7 years ago, in July of 2010. It was the summer after my sophomore year at The University of Texas and I had just been handed the reins to produce the hip-hop show at our school’s student-run TV station, Texas Student TV. The show had formerly been called ATX Most Wanted, but our entertainment director at the time, the now Emmy-winning Tabitha Lipkin, said she wanted me to come up with a new name.

I had driven to Houston from Austin to cover Trae Day— underground legend Trae Tha Truth’s city holiday and its corresponding concert. (PS Trae gave me a lot of my first looks, and for that I am forever grateful—later, when I became entertainment director at the TV station, I would get his videos and cartoon sketches played on the station. PPS I may or may not have a cameo in this music video, I’ll let you find it though)

At any rate, Lupe Fiasco happened to be at Trae’s concert and so I went right up to him and introduced myself; my sister was with me and she got a great, sweaty picture of us together that I need to dig up. (As the years have gone by, Lupe has been a sort of enigmatic mentor figure, appearing a few times a year to give me encouragement or advice, and whenever I’ve needed to do an interview, he’s always said yes.)

Anyway, at Trae Day I also met a rapper named Troublesum; she and I struck up a conversation and she asked, “Are you going to Bun B’s album listening session tonight?”

I was like, “I had no idea that was even a thing.”

So she gave me the deets and a few hours later we met back up there. This was Bun’sTrill O.G. album which has the distinction of being the last album given 5 mics by The Source. Troublesum introduced me to one of Bun’s managers, Bone, I gave him my spiel and asked if I could interview Bun. He said, “Once we’re done listening to the album, I got you.”

You’ve gotta know that growing up in Texas, Bun is looked at as a Greek God, mythical and omnipotent. I thought it would take me years to meet the man, let alone interview him. Here I was, just a few months into my “career”, and I was in a studio sitting next to Lupe Fiasco and Young Buck (lol) waiting to interview Bun.

The new name for the show I had come up with was simple and to the point, “Longhorn Hip Hop”; Our school mascot is the Longhorns, so it made sense. I told myself, okay, if it sounds good coming out of Bun’s mouth, it’s gonna stick (Bun would tell me I should say “pause” here, but this isn’t his interview so I’m not gonna say it!) So we did the interview, it went well, and Bun said something like, “Shoutout to Longhorn Hip Hop; Hook ‘em Horns, baby,” and I was like, “Yup, that’s it.”

Then I ended up at a lot of events over the next few months that Bun also was at and built up a good rapport with the people around him; I think understandably Bun is wary of letting new people into his circle, so he kept his distance from me at first to see if I was a genuine person. But the way Bun likes to tell it is that the breakthrough moment was when I showed up to his bodyguard Truck’s birthday party the next year, that was what made him initiate me into the Trill Gladiators. When Bun tells the story he always emphasizes the fact that, “Sama’an came allll the way to the HOOD” haha but for me it was more about supporting the people who supported me. And to this day, Bone, Truck, and Bun, among others, have always been there for me.

Do you feel lit? You’re pretty poppin in my opinion, but how do you feel about yourself?

Haha you know, I’m not sure I’ve ever used the term “lit” un-ironically mainly because I’m not sure it’s for me to say. I think I’ve done a lot of cool stuff, can’t deny that, but I’ve still got a lot of growing to do. One person who inspires me a great deal is Hannibal Buress; I look at how long he grinded it out before he caught his big breaks and it motivates me to keep going.

How do I feel about myself? Truthfully, maybe this says a lot about me, but I never take selfies. Is that weird? Like if you follow me on snapchat, you’ll rarely if ever see me post selfie pics/videos. What does that say about me? Idk.

What’s the most important part of your creative process?

Movement. Going for a walk, or a drive to a far away place, or playing basketball. Something about taking in new surroundings helps me get my ideas out, especially if I’ve got writer’s block.

Write three sentences. One for the past you, one for the current you, and one for super duper grown up you.

Past – Maybe don’t tweet so much.

Present – Sometimes growth is stressful and crying is okay.

Super Duper Grown Up – Please tell me I grow up to be a late night talk show host.

That’s all folks! Thanks for reading~

-Brooklyn White

#Sama'an Ashrawi #trill gladiator #creative #music #culture #brooklyn white #interview #afrofuturism #thundercat #bun b #UGK #herbie hancock #george clinton

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feathersandblue · 8 years ago

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Black Sails, the finale, and everything.

This is a revised and extended version of a meta post that I made a couple of days ago, which outlines why I think that Flint's ending as we're shown it on screen is real.

Why I believe that Silver’s story about Flint’s ending is true.

1. The showrunners have confirmed that they had intended to bring back Thomas for a long time, and repeatedly referred to the rule of “no body, no confirmed death” in recent interviews. Which, in turn, implies that Thomas as we see him on screen is real and not simply a hallucination.

This is a contextual argument, which can be dismissed if we only look at the episode as it stands, though I would argue that it isn’t without relevance - the groundwork for Thomas’ return has been laid in earlier seasons, and his actual return is the answer to the question that the show has explicitly asked in episode 4.04. It is answered in the finale, but only if we accept the ending at face value.

2. We saw the cold open, which was framed as a flashback, but not as a part of anyone’s narration or memory. That makes it a true scene, one that really happened. It’s tied to the snippet of Max’ and Silver’s conversation about that estate through the “Previously on Black Sails” montage; a direct follow-up to that scene. No ambiguity there.

3. We saw that scene of Flint being delivered to the exact same compound, with the exact same owner, and and we saw that reunion scene with Flint and Thomas.

Every scene that we see in a movie or read in a book has a place within that narrative. It's one of the most fundamental laws of fiction. The writers can deceive us, they can trick us and later reveal how they tricked us – that what we saw was a dream, or a hallucination, or that we simply didn't see all of it – and they can leave room for ambiguity.

But what they cannot do, what they absolutely must not do, is straight-out lie to us. If they did, then that would be a severe breach of contract, one that would immediately put everything else into question.

The reunion scene existed.

The events therein existed.

It follows that this scene has a place within the narrative of Black Sails.

I’d argue it has to be either:

a) Silver’s story, based on his own imagination,

b) Flint’s hallucination of his own death,

c) the metaphorical version of Flint’s off-screen death,

d) a real flashback that shows what actually happened, with a heavily metaphorical aspect to it that reflects Silver’s narrative about the end of Captain Flint and the reawakening of James McGraw, which has been heavily alluded to in earlier seasons.

So which one is it?

Whenever this show included memories or hallucinations before, the writers were very careful to fill these scenes only with details that the characters who were remembering or hallucinating them knew.

It holds true for Vane’s vision of Eleanor, where everything Eleanor said was what Vane had been thinking about himself.

It holds true for every single flashback of season one and two, from the scene on the Maria Aleyne to the scenes in London. For the London storyline, the events were tied to either Miranda or Flint, and we only saw scenes in which at least one of them had been present. The Maria Aleyne we got from Morley’s point of view, then later from Gates’ resp. Flint’s. There’s one second-hand flashback when Silver tells Max about the scouts Flint had sent to the beach to watch the Urca gold, with the Spanish soldiers dying.

It holds true for Flint’s hallucinations of Miranda, which were also full of details and images he knew. His mind did not create a new virtual environment in any of these.

Unless the writers have entirely changed their modus operandi for the final episode, it stands to reason that the same rules would apply to Flint’s ending as well.

Which leads me to the conclusion that:

a) If the reunion scene had been Silver’s imagination, and nothing more, then neither the compound, nor its owner, nor Thomas, should have looked the way they did simply because Silver had never seen them.

If it had been nothing but Silver’s story, it would have made more sense to simply have Silver recount it, as was the show’s habit with stories – Spaniard named Vasquez, the hanged pirates of Charles Town, the bird that was dinner, and so on. But if it had only been a fabrication, if, in fact, Flint’s delivery to Savannah had never happened, the setting would not match the scene in the cold open in such great detail.

b) The same applies to the idea that the reunion scene would be Flint’s imaginary version/hallucination of his own death. Flint has never seen that place in Savannah, he couldn’t have imagined it like that. He also would not have imagined Thomas being older or bearded, simply for lack of reference.

c) If the reunion scene is meant to be a metaphorical version of Flint's death, including a version of a happy afterlife, then a couple of things don’t add up. For one, an important element is missing, and that is Miranda. And again, If they had meant to indicate something like paradise for Flint, there is very little reason to depict it as a labor camp in Savannah that has no relevance to Flint at all – without Miranda, but with a bearded Thomas. In short, the reunion scene was lacking everything one should expect of an actual afterlife, and had all the signs of being tied strongly to the show’s reality and present.

Also, for both version b) and c): if that scene was meant to be a visualization of Flint’s actual death, there are various details that simply don’t fit.

The scene shows Flint cleaned up, his scratches and injuries older and scabbed over, but not entirely healed. This indicates that time has passed between the scene in the woods and his arrival at the field.

If the scene was meant as a coded version of Flint’s off-screen death, we’re also lacking a cause of death. The most popular theory says that Flint was killed by Silver’s gunshot. But if his arrival at the plantation is his passage to the underworld, where is the deadly wound that caused it? All other wounds are still visible, though mostly healed, and he’s wearing the same clothes. Moreover, if it was Silver’s gun shot that was his end, why are Hands and Morgan delivering him into the realm of death instead of Silver? Or if they have killed him on Silver’s behalf, where are his other injuries?

So these are things that I simply can’t dismiss, things that, for me, are a clear argument against any of these explanations.

The fourth one, on the other hand…

d) If the reunion is real, but framed and filmed in a way that there is a metaphorical aspect to it as well, then it shows us the real events, coded heavily in a way that ties back to Greek mythology – symbolizing the death of Flint, and providing the happy ending to James McGraw’s personal Odyssey all at once. It makes sense to shoot it with a different filter, it makes sense to have the actual way from the gate to the end of the tunnel be accompanied by Silver’s narration, and it makes sense for Silver’s narration to stop at some point because the actual reunion is no longer a part of it.

Silver talks about the reawakening of the man who came before. That part of his story ends when Flint steps out into the sunshine. But because Silver doesn’t really know what went on in that estate - he can be seen lurking in the background while Hands and Morgan accompany Flint in - it would be a part of the story that Silver has not been witness to, meaning that he has no words to accompany it. That particular scene is not narrated by Silver. But if the whole story only existed in Silver’s mind, why would he stop there, and not recount how happy Flint looked when finally reunited with Thomas?

“And when he saw Thomas - Madi, when he saw Thomas, he looked as if he was finally at peace. For the first time since I've known him, he seemed well and truly happy.”

Silver’s words about Flint recounted what he knew and the change he, personally, had witnessed in Flint. Meanwhile, what we saw on screen was a flashback playing out, one that, since it was true and real, extended beyond what Silver could tell us.

4. We know that Silver did not want to kill Flint. It was not his intention to kill Flint. He explicitly stated that he would stand there and talk until Flint accepted the outcome. If he had intended to kill Flint, nothing would have stopped him from doing so once Flint had made it clear that the treasure would stay in the ground.

Instead Silver kept reasoning with Flint, and explicitly expressed his intention to leave the island together with him. Earlier, he spoke of arrangements and of "compromises” that were in place to prevent the war.

What would these arrangements be, if not Flint’s imprisonment in Savannah?

5. The ambiguity of Flint’s fate - the scene cut off in the forest, including the uncertainty over whether it was actually a gunshot that alerted the other crew members or something else, matched the suspense before Madi was found alive. It was just that, suspense, and the resolution of the whole thing came through Silver’s explanation toward the end of the episode. There is no detail that cannot be explained fully by the explanation we’re given by Silver.

6. Jack tells Grandma Guthrie that Flint has retired. If Silver had killed Flint instead, it would not make any sense to tell an explicit lie when the truth would have served him just as well, if not better. The official version of events would still be Flint’s retirement, but why deny in front of Grandma Guthrie that the cat was drowned, if that was what she wanted, and also what happened?

7. If Flint had been killed on that island, lying to Madi would mean that Silver had to trust the entire crew of the Lion not to reveal that secret in case Madi would ask. He also faces the risk of having his entire story proven false in case Madi sends someone to Savannah to investigate. Not to mention that he would have to either invent or undertake a voyage to Savannah for the sake of plausibility to uphold the fiction of Flint's retirement, voluntary or otherwise.

8. The showrunners have repeatedly stated that their ending had the goal to bring the characters into place for Treasure Island. That only works if Flint is left alive. If Flint had died in that forest, there would be no treasure map, because only Flint knows where the damn thing is buried. Taken at face value, the ending fits. It’s still decades before the events of Treasure Island come to pass. Billy can still get off that island. Silver can still lose some more of his leg. Ben Gunn can still be marooned. But if Flint is dead, any canon-compliance has gone right out of the window.

One does not simply make a prequel to Treasure Island for four entire seasons only to arrive at a point where the ending is contradictory to Treasure Island.

This is also a contextual argument, but one that is decidedly harder to dismiss. Within the episode, we can point out ambiguities as much as we like, but if it comes to the narrative of Black Sails as a whole, I feel it would be remiss to ignore that for the show to meet its objectives, Flint has to be alive.

(9.) This isn't really an argument against the "Silver killed Flint" hypothesis, but it's an important aspect nevertheless, in that it explores the implications.

In order to say that Flint is dead, we have to brand Silver a liar. All perceived ambiguity aside, if we want to assume that Flint is dead, we need to believe that Silver is lying.

The episode in itself does not give us any indication for it. There are no tells, nothing to pinpoint that Silver isn't entirely sincere. We have to make the deliberate choice not to believe him, and to accept that Silver would lie to Madi in such a profound way.

This final episode has been the conclusion to Silver's character arc. His decision to end the war is his defining moment, the conscious choice to step out of Flint's shadow and take a stance. He is no longer willing to walk the path of least resistance (going along with what both Flint and Madi want) because he truly believes that the war is a waste of lives and resources. He opposes both of them regardless of the consequences, knowing that he's not only betraying them, but also giving up everything he has gained – the power and glory that are tied to the pirate persona of Long John Silver. It is the moment he comes into his own, where he stops playing a part and makes a difficult – and controversial – decision in accordance with his truest believes, even though these are in opposition to Flint's and Madi's. And the narrative shows him as willing to stand by it, willing to defend it, and being sincere about it, both in his conversation with Flint and the one with Madi.

By saying that Silver lied – not even that he killed Flint, because while he clearly didn't intend to kill Flint, Flint might have left him no other choice – but that he lied to Madi about it to placate her – we choose to see Silver not as a flawed man who makes a questionable decision, but as a despicable villain who acts only for his own, personal gain.

We deny that his love and respect for Madi were ever genuine and true. We disregard four seasons of character development, we disregard two seasons of Silver following into Flint's footsteps while being deeply conflicted about it, and we disregard a final episode where he at last finds the strength and conviction to break free of that downward spiral of violence and rage and sacrificing people for the greater good.

And we do that not based on evidence, but on belief.

Not because it's what the show tells us, but because we reject its narrative in favor of creating a monster for our own benefit.

After all, civilization needs its monsters, doesn't it?

Conclusion

At a closer look, the theory of Flint being killed by Silver simply does not hold up to scrutiny. While it might be tempting to look for possible alternate interpretations, the accumulated evidence leaves us with basically no other choice but to take the ending at face value.

To be able to speak of an ambiguous ending, there have to be two competing interpretations that are equally valid, but that simply isn't the case unless you find a way to dismiss all the arguments listed above.

Maybe the question we should really ask isn't whether there was a gunshot or not, but why we are so willing to believe there was.

#black sails #john silver #captain flint #black sails meta

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onlyonewoman · 8 years ago

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A little essay about lgbt representation & expectations

Lots of people, myself included, wants more M/M moments than just Flint's memories in BS, for a lot of reasons. One of them is we want Flint to find love again, another is that it's not unreasonable to expect M/M relationship in the story, considering the pirate society's very liberal view on homosexuality. (If you're a BS fan who somehow missed the term "matelotage", look it up).

What some people get a bit irritated at, is that we've seen a lot F/F scenes - and of course M/F scenes - while M/M relationships are not shown, despite the fact that they were not only accepted but also celebrated amongst pirates.

Up until now, I've been thinking that perhaps the authors - who clearly know pirate history better than most people, because this show is one of the most historical accurate ones I've seen in years - didn't add F/F moments but left out M/M moments because F/F moments are far more accepted to "the common" viewer and a very easy way to add some hotness into a show.

I admit, even though I'm bisexual, that I got a little bit tired of the F/F and the F/F/M scenes, because lets be honest: we're so used to those kind of scenes most people who're not true homophobes and haven't lived under a rock the last ten years, hardly think it's a big deal with two women having a hot time together. It sometimes seems as if lesbian sex on screen is alright, simply because a lot of straight men are used to see "lesbian" - BIG fucking marks here - sex in pornos and by that used to see two women together as an act that's fine as long as they're allowed to watch and enjoy.

And as a bisexual person who doesn't really identify with any gender, I think that's just fine. I enjoy M/M and F/F but I very rarely appriciate F/M scenes (we're talking sexual or romantic scenes) in a show because it just bores the hell out of me. I often identify more with men - not always, but quite often - and even though I'm bisexual, I've always felt more comfortable with men for some damn reason. M/M moments in a show is therefor the romantic/sexual moments I ironically enough feel most "represented" in. That's where I can picture myself, even if I'm a biological, bisexual woman who's not TS. My gender identity is very fluid.

Alright, lets return to the show. Used as I am to the F/F stuff used in so many shows these days, it didn't take long before I actually sighed at the F/F relationships, Max/Eleanor and Max/Anne, thinking "here we go again, showing off tits and pussy in F/F moments to make the straight male audience happy and not that I don't like how it's done, but this is fucking boring". Later, when I read about the matelotages I got even more irritated, since being gay clearly wasn't a problem in that society so where the fuck were the M/M couples? And then the major character turned out to be a GAY MAN, I mean hellooo?! Here we have a society allowing and celebrating M/M relationships while there's no records showing any female matelotages so this seemed... weird. And damn frustrating for a person with my gender identity.

But when thinking about it, Clara Paget said in an interview that Anne's relationship with Max can't be public. And I also remembered what happened to Max when Vane used her to get back at Eleanor. We actually don't see any romantic relationships among the pirates (we leave Silver and Madi out for now and since Miranda is "hidden" and remains a mystery for Flint's crew, she's not seen as Flint's official lover or wife). Vane and Eleanor are in a constant battle for power, emotional and in lack for better words political, while Anne and Jack have an unbalanced relationship where Anne, with Max entering their lives, suddenly finds herself in a very strange situation where she has a deep need for Max, she's "crazy about her", but Max is not a romantic person - honestly I think it's the men who're the romantics in this show - and the relationship M/F/F triangle they share, is not something that ANY of them, especially not Jack, takes easily. And we never gets to see the M/F/F threesome, which is just awesome, because it's not the sex that's interesting, but what's happening inside all three of them and especially Anne.

So yes, we do have a M/F/F relationship in the show, but the way it's performed, is very far from the usual "hot eye candy scene" we've seen in, for example Game Of Thrones and especially Spartacus, a show that, by the way, has one of the best M/M relationship and M/M sex scenes since the original Queer as Folk came out in 1999. (A show I ordered on import VHS from a gay magazine and wasn't allowed to put in the VHS collection by the telly, because my mom thought it was too obscene.) Yeah, think about that, folks! Growing up having to order a damn import VHS where you couldn't understand half of what the actors were saying because you were sixteen going on seventeen and British accents in fast speed with no subtitles were a bitch for a teen who mostly just needed to use English in English classes and while trying to understand music lyrics.

DVD:s were still new, Youtube, Facebook and Netflix didn't exist and the number one search engine was AltaVista. Computers were something not even all middle class families used, Internet costed money by the minute and finding a website for LBGT people to connect was something my generation was the first to experience in our teens. To even think that a F/F or M/M couple would have sex AND a relationship on screen in a show or film that wasn't specifically about lbgt issues and made for an lbgt audience was just something you didn't count on. At all.

Since I realised my gender identity and sexuality both were "different" in my early teens - the word I used back then because I didn't feel I could fit in any category - I read all the lbgt stuff on the library I could find. And when I'd finished it, I read it all again, and again and again. I waited in excitement for the soap operas I followed with minor lbgt characters, living on a kiss for days and watching re-runs on Sundays or recorded it. Believe me, if anyone knows how it feels to not get what you want from shows and movies, it's me - and all the other lbgt people in my age, not to mention older.

When it comes to Black Sails and the lack of M/M moments, I feel divided. On one hand, as a person growing up in a time where a show like Black Sails was unthinkable, I'm so grateful for the fact that this show has a gay head character who - and believe me, I've watched so many M/M movies and M/M moments from shows over the years, so I know what I'm talking about - is not a stereotype. I loved the fact that we got to see so much more of Flint before his secret love was reveiled. That the show makers refused to make a stereotype of him or Thomas. Seeing the comments from straight men being anything from shocked and confused to pissed off when their badass ginger captain turned out not to be straight was amazing - and also a proof of just how important it was to not be too in your face with Flint's sexuality, to make people love/hate/care for the character in a way that made it impossible for all people - except for morons and homophobes - to dismiss him or label him. And that's some damn good character writing.

Since the pirate community was very sexually liberal, and definately when it came to M/M relationships, I'm a bit disappointed that the show has not showed us that. We see no molly boys (male whores) in the brothels and the word matelotage has not been mentioned at all. That's a shame, I think, because this is literally one of the few places in history where M/M couples were actually getting married. And that's fucking huge! I didn't know about this before I looked it up and I've been a part of the lbgt community - and is a history nerd - for eighteen years.

To me, the lack of M/M couples as well as the large amount of F/F scenes in Black Sails, is a disappointment since we both have a gay male character and the time and place the show takes place in, makes M/M moments common. To not see that part of the pirate society's sexual freedom, but see F/F scenes when those must've been far more rare than M/M relationships, considering the hypermasculine environment the pirate community was, is the one thing I could maybe see as the show makers either being blind to or maybe dismissing due to the fact that they know M/M relationships are still something that unfortunately makes a lot of people, and I guess especially straight men, annoyed rather than excited. Tits are an easy way to make people interested and I can't blame the authors for realising that and using it to their advantage. I'm disappointed, but I still understand them.

But the eighteen years that's gone since I ordered Queer As Folk and struggled to understand the fucking accent without subtitles, have made me think of the difference in what I and the lbgt people I knew in late nineties and early 20th, expected when it came to representation. I'm white and lbgt, but saw a lot more black people than lbgt people - and the first ever TS person I saw that wasn't presented as a joke or a dragqueen, was "The Crying Game" from 1992. A movie I didn't get my hands on until 2003.

What I want to say with this post, is not that we should be content with less M/M couples than F/F or F/M couples, not at all. But we need to see Black Sails for what it is: a violent drama in a time where M/M relationships were punishable by death in most "civilized" places. James Flint is not a person who's free from those chains. That, I hope, is clear for anyone who's not slept through this show.

Despite what we think he deserves and what we know about the sexually liberal pirate community, Flint is not a person driven by the feeling that HE deserves love. And the last time he let go of the shame, the man he loved died (as far as he and we know) and if not all, so at least a huge part of James McGraw, died with that love. Even if Flint did love Silver or Billy or any other man, is it really reasonable to expect him to put a person he loves at risk once more, considering what happened with Thomas?

As sad as it is, Flint not letting any man near him in mind AND body again, should not be a surprise for us. And since Madi and Silver has a relationship and Flint probably is aware of how he, whether he intends to or not, seems to drag people down into his darkness. Since Silver is also aware of that and has even spoken openly about that concern directly to Flint, is it really reasonable to expect any of them to risk such vulnerability in that time, place and situation they are in?

Black Sails is a drama and perhaps one of the best historical shows I've ever seen, both when it comes to the story, the characters and the historical accurency. Not giving us a Silverflint, Blint, Gunnbones or Thomasflint relationship would feel sad, I'm the first to admit that. I almost always identify with men and I fall in love with and feel connected with men easier than women, so to me as a person, I would need an M/M relationship if I'm to feel "represented" at all in a romantic and/or sexual way.

But does that mean that the show needs it in order to feel complete? Honestly, I don't know since it's still four episodes left and the show has surprised me in every episode this season to a point where I find it almost impossible to foresee what's going to happen.

And I HATE to sound like a smug older person dismissing younger peoples as entitled millennials as if I'm not a product of my time as much as anyone else. People said the same things about my generation as well, that's how humans are and the last thing I want is for people to be content and grateful for breadcrumbs when the loaf is within reach. But what I wish, as a person growing up in a time where a show like Black Sails had been impossible and you still went to a store to rent a VHS movie (including porn) and you hardly dared to hope for a M/M or F/F kiss in your favourite shows- and if you did, there was likely no one you could share that wish with because coming out was a big fucking thing and you didn't take any chances - please, if you've experienced Youtube, Facebook, Google, Tumblr and downloading sites in your teens and/or early twenties, remember those who, like me, couldn't take even a M/M kiss for granted.

The kind of free spaces to experience and share your love and desires the Internet revolution has given us, didn't exist for us. I was a teen when thw word "queer" was still an insult and Russell T Davies said in an article that it was time to take back the word queer and not letting it be an insult, that it was time for a show where lbgt people weren't portraited as depressed individuals in constant battle with themselves, apologizing for our existence and longing to fit in with the heterosexual norm.

Reading those words meant a lot to me and if you're in your twenties or a teen reading this, trust me, there've been so many changes since a seventeen year old me read that.

So, as a soon to be 34 years old, non-binary, bisexual person who knows more than well how frustrating it is to not feel represented or get what you want from a show when it comes to sexual and/or romantic relationships, I would like to just remind you that striving for more diversity and better representation, shouldn't make us forget that not very long ago, a show like Black Sails with a gay male head character and all the different relationships and personalities shown in the show, had been un-fucking-thinkable. We're not talking seventy, fifty or even twenty years.

With Black Sails we have three lbgt characters who have major roles: Flint, Max and Anne. Non of them are stereotypes. They are all more than their sexual orientation, more than their relationships and when the show is handling their orientation and love interests, it's always complex. It's the same thing with the straight relationships. Anne/Rackham, Vane/Eleanor, Miranda/Flint, Silver/Madi and Woodes/Eleanor are not typical straight romantic couples at all and we should remember that.

If the show ends without any M/M moments then yes, I will be sad about that. But I don't think the reason for not adding it, is because of the creators being narrowminded or wanting to please a straight crowd. They've showed us over and over again that Black Sails is something more than a show about pirates doing pirate stuff. Not giving us a relationship that suits a modern person's view on M/M couples in a show taking place in the 1700th doesn't make the creators cowards, narrowminded or queerbaiting.

And this show has never been a tale of romance, no matter what we want to read into glances, touches and tone of voices. Will I be sad if I don't get an M/M moment? Of course. But, just to once again look back in history, not nearly as sad as all the real lbgt people in that time - and also in some places on earth in our time - who faced a very real death threat for loving someone of the same gender, or breaking the norms of gender roles.

Black Sails is their history and their time, and James McGraw has suffered so badly for breaking the heterosexual norm, he lost a part of himself. To count on him even to dare and reach out to another man easily again with that loss, guilt and grief inside him, is to not see the whole character.

We wish him that happiness, as modern free people with empathy should, but can James Flint allow himself to take that chance again? Is it really realistic to expect that? And if he can't, does that really make Black Sails a less good show? My answer to that is just: hell no.

#black sails #lbgt community #gay characters #representation #a little lbgt history #lbgt fiction #captain flint #max black sails #anne bonny #thomas hamilton

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