#when i learned the english for alouette it was.

[spirit-girl-nijisanji]

Rivals or so they thought

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➼ Pairing - Luca Kaneshiro x GN!Vtuber Reader

➼ Content - Established relationship, Playful rivalry, fluff & hopefully half correct translations (I know Japanese, a little bit of Swedish and the others I'm still a beginner in but I'm learning so if something isn't translated right, I apologize, I tried my best~! English translations will be included :3)

➼ Ft. Ike Eveland, Ver Vermillion, Vezalius Bandage, Enna Alouette, Mika Melatika, Nina Kosaka and Reimu Endou

➼ ⚠️ Please remember I only write for the personas you see on your screen. I do not and will not write for the people behind the models. Please also remember that behind the models there are very real people with very real emotions. Please be respectful towards our beloved Nijisanji EN livers and do your best to separate the real people from the persona reflected on your screen. Thank you so much and enjoy the story ⚠️

➼ Summary - You debuted in Nijisanji as another mob boss. You were known as Luca's rival in your lore. Behind the scenes, your lore couldn't be more wrong. And it all comes out during one stream... ─═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═

Today was the day you debuted, you sat at your desk going through your slide show, letting the viewers get to know you;

" As you know from my lore, I am another mob boss. " You said with a smile looking at your character reference sheet before looking over at the chat;

Chat: ChairKun223: Luca's rival right? What's that like YVT/N?

You couldn't help but smile at the question, adjusting yourself in the chair you hummed softly thinking about a good response,

" I admire him, he and I are polar opposites. He's always smiles. I know when to be serious when it counts. He views his work as play. " You said trying to sound bitter. The image of your golden retriever like lover popped into your head and you had to fight back a fond smile to stay in character for your debut.

You spent the next hour going through the rest of the slide show and talking to chat. Finally ending, your door flung open and your chair was spun around before you were grabbed up off the chair and spun around in a tight hug;

" YOU WERE SO POG BABE! " The one and only Luca Kaneshiro beamed hugging you tight and spinning you around. Your laughs echoed in the room hugging him back.

Despite being rivals in your lore, you were the blond mafia boss's lover and you had been with him long before you debuted, hell you've been together long before HIS debut. He adored you and you adored him. It was hard not to, his puppy like personality and his sense of humor. You two just clicked. Of course your friends and co workers knew about your relationship with Luca and they fully supported you, you hadn't made your relationship public so neither the Lucubs or your community knew about you and Luca.

" Thank you my love! I could hear you watching my stream in the living room. " You said with a cheeky smile, causing him to blush ever so lightly. He set you back down on the floor and he place a soft loving kiss on your cheek.

" I wish we didn't have to hide our relationship! The Lucubs would be so happy that we're together! " Luca whined and grasped your shoulders shaking you lightly.

" I know, me too but gotta make the lore seem real ya goof. " You replied holding onto his wrists as he shook you lightly as not to hurt you.

The next year was full of so many fun collabs with Luca and other streamers. You always had so much fun with the other NIJI EN members. Spending time with them both on streams and outside of streams. You remembered being a simple viewer at one point, watching the NIJI EN talents and wishing you could do what they do and be apart of their world (Little mermaid reference XD ANYWAYS-). And not long after Luca introduced you to Tazumi san, you were given an opportunity to audition and be apart of NIJI EN which you jumped at right away. When you were accepted, Luca was over the moon. He couldn't stop talking about it for days and he even helped you get a model commission and helped you write your lore.

There came a day when you organized a goose goose duck collab, wanting to do another collab with language switch ups, You invited Ike, Ver, Vezalius, Enna, Mika, Nina and Reimu and Luca wanted to tag along and watch the game in VC, you being the sucker you are, agreed to let him sit in. And of course you assigned each a language, You would be sticking with Japanese, Ike had Swedish, Ver had Korean, Zali had French, Enna had Chinese, Mika had Indonesian, Nina had Russian and Reimu was given Spanish. Since you had watched the other collab the language switch up was used in, you knew this was about to get chaotic but you were also incredibly excited. Everything was set up and stream started;

" Alright~! Hello everyone! So as you can see, we're doing another goose goose duck stream with the language twist, so would everyone like to introduce themselves in the languages they were given? " You asked with a smile, Ver deciding to start out;

" Hi everyone, my name is Ver Vermillion, I'm speaking in Korean! 안녕하세요 여러분! 내 이름은 Ver Vermillion, 저는 한국어로 말하고 있습니다! (Hi everyone, my name is Ver Vermillion, I'm speaking in Korean!) "

Ike jumped in straight after Ver,

"Hello everyone, I am Ike Eveland, a Virtual Novelist from Nijisanji EN and part of Luxiem! And one more time, I am talking Swedish. Hej alla, jag är Ike Eveland, a virtuell romanförfattare från Nijisanji EN och en del av Luxiem! Och en gång till, jag är talar Svenska. (Hello everyone, I am Ike Eveland, a virtual novelist from Nijisanji EN and part of Luxiem! And one more time, I am talking Swedish.) "

Zali followed suit with his introduction,

" Hi, hi everyone! My name is Vezalius Bandgae or Zali and today I am speaking French! Salut, Salut tout le monde~! Mon nom est Vezalius Bandage ou Zali et aujourd’hui Je suis parlant français! (Hi, Hi everyone! My name is Vezalius Bandage or Zali and today I am speaking French!) "

Next was Nina,

" Hello, my name is Nina Kosaka. Russaian will be my language. Привет, Меня зовут Nina Kosaka. Русский будет быть мой язык ( Hello, my name is Nina Kosaka. Russian will be my language.) "

Then came Mika,

" My name is Mika Melatika. I speak Indonesian. Nama saya Mika Melatika. Saya berbicara Indonesia (My name is Mika Melatika. I speak Indonesian.) "

Enna chimed in,

" Hello, my name is Enna Alouette. I speak Mandarin Chinese. 你好, 我叫 Enna Alouette. 我说话 普通话 中文. (Hello, my name is Enna Alouette. I speak Mandarin Chinese.) "

Now Reimu jumped in,

" Hello my name is Reimu Endou~! I have been chosen to speak Spanish. Hola mi nombre es Reimu Endou~! He sido elegido para hablar español. (Hello my name is Reimu Endou~! I have been chosen to speak Spanish.) "

And finally you gave your introduction,

" Good morning everyone~! My name is YVT/N! I speak Japanese for this collaboration~! おはようございます 皆さん~! 私の名前は YVT/N! 私は日本語を話します 対して これ コラボ~! (Good morning everyone~! My name is YVT/N! I speak Japanese for this collaboration~!) "

And of course no line of introductions would be complete if Luca didn't chime in to introduce himself,

" HIIIIII GUYS! I'm Luca Kaneshiro! I am just gonna be spending some time in the VC while my game downloads and if it finishes before the collab is over, YVT/N said I could speak backwards so I'm not completely understood, POGGGGGGGGG!!! " He said happily causing the rest of the people in the collab to snicker at his enthusiasm.

" Right~! With introductions out of the way, let's get the first round started! Good luck everyone~! " You beamed as the game began.

And of course, as expected, it was complete chaos. There was zero understanding between anyone. You were walking around trying to find a task before stopping, seeing Enna and Nina having some sort of stand off but not understanding a word either woman was saying.

Within a few rounds, Luca finally was able to join into the fun. The new round started, You ran past Ver being chased yelling in Korean by Ike who was yelling in Swedish but of course you didn't understand what either of them were saying. Before running into Luca who was standing over a dead Enna,

" LUCA! 殺しましたか Enna!? (LUCA! Did you kill Enna?!) " You said backing away

" Tahw?! I nod't dnatsrednu tahw ruoy gniyas TVY/N! (What?! I don't understand what your saying YVT/N!) " Luca stammered out, barely able to get through a sentence.

Hearing Luca struggle at getting a sentence out backwards was enough to cause you to snicker,

" 体の上に立つ Luca! 他に誰が殺しただろう Enna?! (Your standing over a body Luca! Who else could have killed Enna?!) " You said quickly going to report Enna's body.

⚠️ EMERGENCY MEETING ⚠️

" 私は見つけた Luca 立っている Enna's 体! (I found Luca standing over Enna's body!) " You spoke out

" Nina jagade mig! (Nina was chasing me!) " Ike called out

" Мне показалось, что я вижу Ike убей кого-нибудь, чтобы я последовал за ним (I thought I saw Ike kill someone so I followed him) " Nina said trying to be heard over the wave of voices

You could see your chat going nuts over the complete chaos this collab was. No one could understand each other and communication was just dead in the water. As the round went on, people were voted out and in the end, the goose ended up winning and the goose turned out to be Ver. Back in the lobby, voices rung out and everyone was finally able to understand each other, everyone was laughing. Luca walked over to you and spoke,

" BABE! I TOLD YOU IT WASN'T ME THAT KILLED ENNA! " He yelled, faking being hurt

It took a second to realize what Luca had said but when it registered, you looked back to your chat.

Chat: Chairkun223: DID LUCA JUST CALL YVT/N BABE?! YVT/NSimp: OH MY GOD Luca'sJacket44: ARE THEY TOGETHER?! LucaxYVT/NOTP: AWWWH~!

Your jaw hit your desk and you couldn't help but nervous laugh,

" L...luca, we're still live. " you said, your eyes still glued on your chat

" What? What I say? " He asked before he looked at his own chat and realized his mistake.

Both chats were going wild with questions and people squealing over the fact that YVT/N and Luca were a couple. It took a few seconds before the others in the collab realized what happened since you and Luca had gone silent. The rest of the collab was filled with you and Luca trying to go the rest of the collab without looking at the chats, each time you ran into another person in the collab, you could only assume they were teasing you since you couldn't understand a word being said.

The end of the collab came, everyone said their goodbyes and you said goodbye to chat, Luca ran in and hugged you apologizing for outting the relationship during the collab and of course you reassured him that it was okay.

From then on, Luca made sure he was incredibly loving even in streams, he was shameless in letting chat know how amazing he thought you were and how much he loved you.

[pleasestopthese]

some kid at camp taught me a song to the tune of alouette when i was in seventh or eighth grade (i don't remember the camp, i think it was in julian, might've been minitown), it was called suffocation

ok that is my contribution here (yes we learned frére jacques and alouette for some reason and also brother john which is frére jacques in english except changed just enough to fail as a translation)

[petalsonfacesnovinesthough]

Ideas I hold onto?

I think it's about time I tell more people about these than just my best friend. She has better things to do than listen to me ramble! So, you guys get to hear my fiction/fandom ideas! Yay? (Be forewarned, most of this is crossover stuff, so be aware.)

The Adventures of MegaMan: I guess I can call this my most prolific work..? It's what's got the most stuff on my DA, so yeah. The name isn't even "official"! But, it's also one of the few works that has something that covers most of it(a timeline). You want the Lalinde's? They're here. The Stardroids? Some odd neighbors! Breaker Knight, because he has potential? I haven't finished writing his thing, I admit, but he's present!

ZeroX Sleeping Beauty AU: The fic for this is still just in my Google Docs... But, I put way too much thought into this. Zero is a typical high-school student, with a younger brother(Bass), and two younger cousins(Ciel and Alouette), but ends up learning he's possibly destined to wake up the centuries-old prince Xavier of the Kingdom of Abel. Just how prevalent are the fairies that Zero's best friend, Axl, seems to know way too much about. Can he stop Sigma and break the sleeping curse?

The Techs of Circuit City: As legend goes, the three Techs are to be sought out when Circuit City gets threatened, as is the case thanks to The Wyrms. Of course, Suzume, I mean "Saori" doesn't believe a lick of it! Plus, she has to work with "Ms. Class Rep" Kayuba? Please! But, Matsu is very convincing...

Magic Roots: Life goes sideways for Conner Vidalya when he's accosted by the twisted dryad Sidae. With a ticking clock on his life and a lack of memories, "Pulcher" turns to the 6000 year old kitsune doctor Acen-Li to try and hunt down the wicked wicken before his death when his eye-that's-now-a-flower wilts.

Knowledge Flame: To get her daughter, Ashell to stop acting out, Phoebe Fragor decides to not only place a curse on the young witch, but send her to a non-magic high school to boot! Can she adapt without losing her temper?

Stunt's Hope: We're at about Alternia's 1950's, but just how is the planet to adapt when 12 trolls stumble upon a game they were never meant to find? Will secrets between the group get revealed? And just how many trolls really fulfill their ancestor's unfinished business..?

Pajama Dirk AU Aka How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Fix/Explain Ultimate!Dirk Myself: I have no intentions of ever reading The Homestuck Epilogues. But... Hussie, how do you botch your own character?!! Thus, this started as a way to make Dirk an antagonist without breaking his character and just went further from there, including Grandma English getting to be a Sprite, a June, a canon crossover with Miraculous Ladybug(to deal with how I hate the writing of that show since S3) that GodTiers Sollux, Nepeta, and Equius, and more. As for why it's called "Pajama Dirk"? TL;DR, because Dirk's "Authorial/Antagonist" attire is just some special pjs. Yes, there is a ministrife sprite. No, I will not place it here. It's not even transparent!

Psychonauts X Touhou: This "series" doesn't have a cool name. Taking place between UM and 100BM, when one forgotten gap gets left open close to the headquarters of the psychic secret agents, chaos is sure to follow.

Touhou X Demon Slayer: This also doesn't have a cool name. Basically, it connects the two in... ways. I can't word this well.

12 Star Fairies: A crossover between Homestuck and Fairy Tail. The kids have beaten SBURB, but everything seems to go sideways when the trolls wake up, all alive and missing the humans, seemingly being turned into humans themselves! Can they adapt to a world like Fiore? And will they get involved with Magnolia's infamous Fairy Tail guild?

The Spirit Pirates: A crossover between Touhou and One Piece. If you asked Iku Nagae for her plans, she wouldn't have said investigating some back door Matara insisted she join the team for looking into it. Nor would she have asked to end up stuck on a boat in the middle of some nowhere place, let alone with The Devil's Sister, The Border Youkai and her Shikigami, some girl, and others. As for the straggler they pulled out of the water and gave blood, she just thought he couldn't spell. I mean, "Asce". Really?

A Ship of Metal: A crossover between One Piece and RockMan: The Lights know they're not the most conventional family, all being adopted, after all. But, when 9 of the brothers end up changing violently after joining under some Marine known only as "Wily", Rock, Roll, and Blues come to the conclusion that they have to go after them! If that requires raising a Jolly Roger and leaving The West Blue? They'll do anything to make sure their brothers are okay.

[scige-alt]

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE — don’t look now, but is that saige beaumont i see? the 21 year old criminal psychology / linguistics student is in their sophomore year and she is a rochester alum. i hear they can be blithe, energetic, evasive and irrational, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet she will make a name for themselves living in murphy’s beach homes. ( james. 20. est. she/they. )

snjdfg these took so long i’m so sorry but anyways please LIKE and i’ll slide into yr IMs for plots !!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: bisexual w/ a very slight preference towards masc-presenting folks

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biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

[scige-archive]

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE. — saige beaumont is really making a name for themselves as a sheep. i think that she is studying criminal psychology + linguistics in their junior year at lockwood, living in alpha nu. originally from thibodaux, louisiana, saige is known to be blithe & energetic, but can also be evasive & irrational. — james / 20 / est / she/they.

hi !! this is mostly just a repost, but there has been added information to her biography section, as well as her connections to the victims. i’m excited to continue rping with u all !!!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

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stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

and while too afraid to visit the victim & their family, every month since the conviction of the others involved - she’ll visit one of them in particular. it’s been three years and saige has shown no sign of stopping.

during her last visit, he had sent her on a scavenger hunt resulting in her breaking into his brother’s (& his, technically) home and finding a second iPhone - one she had no idea he had, one with the watershed app installed. their intentions was for saige to be able to access the app - but his shepherd access had been revoked, and the phone had already been wiped clean. regardless, saige took it back to rochester with her.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

connections to the victims !!

tatiana samuels / saige & tatiana met when they were freshmen and junior, respectively. they quickly became friends - mostly seen together at parties, where they’d encourage each other to do more, more, more. their friendship was ended after they’d taken a friend’s car on a joyride and wound up crashing it off of a back road. saige freaked out about it & tatiana ... did not. as a result of their very different reactions, and saige’s fear of landing in the news, they cut ties.

george craig iii / saige had met george after bringing tatiana back to her dorm one night where they accidentally crossed paths. one thing led to another and they wound up sleeping together. it hadn’t meant to be a thing at all, but there had been two other incidents of them ‘accidentally crossing paths’ before his disappearance.

hana williams / for the two of them to not be friends would be, frankly - weird, due to their similar friendly personalities. they got along well, but weren’t the closest pair.

christoph wainwright / they had hooked up numerous times before without issue, but christoph’s jealous yet emotionally unavailable personality & saige’s own conflicted feelings had resulted in a huge fight, which led to their falling out - which led to them quickly becoming enemies, instead.

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

[scigebabadook]

cisfemale — ever hear people say SAIGE BORDEAUX looks a lot like LIANA LIBERATO? I think SHE is about 20, so it doesn’t really work. The LINGUISTICS + CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY major is a SOPHOMORE that is from ALL OVER THE PLACE. They can be BLITHE, but they can also be EVASIVE. I think SAIGE might be a SHEEP. They are living in BALTA. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. )

hello ,,, it seems i am a sheep and Refuse to leave the herd. aka i love u all so frickin’ much ,,, and w/o further ado, here is saige !! pleathe LIKE this so i can shimmy into yr ims !!

TW: drug use, alcoholism, implied abuse ? shitty parents at the very least, addiction

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette bordeaux

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 20 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

pinterest

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert bordeaux, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of living, next thing she knew, she was a student at gifford university in a town she’d never been to before.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just ... pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just ... people where their like ... relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

[saigeboredeaux-blog]

( cisfemale ) haven’t seen SAIGE BORDEAUX around in a while. the LIANA LIBERATO lookalike has been known to be (+) CONFIDENT & (+) AMIABLE, but SHE can also be (-) RECKLESS & (-) IRRATIONAL. The 20 year old is a SOPHOMORE majoring in LINGUISTICS + CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY. I believe they’re living in FIDELIS but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( james! 20! est! she/they! )

i loved naeva but it isnt her time, she doesnt belong in the mortal realm sndjkfjgkh BUT i did wake up from my nap with an INTENSE FEELING OF LOVE AND MUSE for saige, who is my actual legitimate daughter. so pleathe, have her. love her. respect her. if you haven’t already dropped a like on my other post and you’d like to plot with saige, pleathe do so on this one !!

TW: drug use, alcoholism, implied abuse ? shitty parents at the very least, addiction

a e s t h e t i c s (i saved them this time !!!)

stick n' pokes at 2am -- when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they're bad luck and they'll break your mother's back -- even if your mother doesn't love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song -- one that's got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven't taken down. it's may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): she…doesn’t have any in this timeline but PLEASE, she LOVES nicknames. she’s a nickname slut.

b.o.d. - july 7th, 20 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ thank u very much !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

pinterest

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert bordeaux, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in -- she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends -- saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier -- she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous -- a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not -- introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her -- which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism -- it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it -- she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either -- but, by some chance -- and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of living, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood. (more on this later :~) )

connection to tatiana: party pals !! super close as long as they were drunk, but they generally ran in different circles (though saige sorta...runs through all circles?) whilst sober

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her -- she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes--reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very...mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like...she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned...like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like...four cars.....she has them all on campus.....she prolly isn’t suppose to...but she does...one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like...quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly -- she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by ... situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what...it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like...prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, who, much like tatiana they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like...she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

...somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

please. take her. give me connections.

[paleandmoonstruck]

Half-Sick of Shadows CH. 1

For reference: this is a Tommy Shelby x OC fic. Just me playing around a little with canon as a kind of fix-it fic. Enjoy!

(AN: The version of ‘Clair de Lune’ Lucy sings here is by Merry Ellen Kirk! All rights go to her and her beautiful brain.)

The gaslight reflected off the rain-slick streets, shimmering beneath Lucy’s boots. Long, glowing lines of gold seemed to lead her straight to Alice’s door; entirely too beautiful for what she had told her of Birmingham. The brass handle of her suitcase had grown warm from her clutching it, a steamer trunk filled with the non-essentials on its way from the train station. The man at the counter had assured her that it would arrive by the next afternoon, and directed her towards a line of cabs willing to take her to wherever she was staying.

She had walked the five kilometres to Alice’s happily, brushing away the voice that murmured that she wasn’t safe. She had learned to be invisible, and the dark blue of her coat and hat let the eyes of others skip over her. The city had taken her by surprise: Ottawa had been busy, but never this cramped and… industrial. Steam seemed to collect around the feet of the buildings, spewing from furnaces dotted around with no apparent rhyme or reason. Despite the hour, streams and masses of people filled the streets, clamouring together and shouting. The air stunk of factories, but as she drew nearer to where Alice lived, she found it had its own charm. She had always enjoyed being where it was lively, and the bright energy of Birmingham lacked the frantic fear of the medical tents that had tainted the bustle.

Before she knew it, the small door that read Alice’s address was before her face. The paint was peeling in the corner, something George would have fixed. She had barely lifted the knocker when the door swung open, the worn metal slipping from beneath her fingers. And behind the frame stood Alice.

She had changed in the months after the War’s end. Her hair was shorter, cut to her jaw in the current fashion. She looked smaller somehow. Carried herself differently. Lucy wondered how she had changed.

“Lucienne!” Alice gasped, throwing her arms around her. She still smelled like lavender and soap, still buried her shorter head in the crook of Lucy’s neck. Her nose burned with tears.

Resisting the urge to babble away in French, Lucy pulled back, “let’s go in off the porch, ma cocotte, before I start crying in the middle of the street.”

In a flurry of movement, Alice had taken her bag and ushered her into her little apartment. “It’s got two bedrooms,” Alice chirped, “we had planned on making the second a guest bedroom, but that can be yours now. Tiny though, I hope you don’t mind, love.”

Her tone was forced, and Lucy offered her a sympathetic smile. “Never. I’m just glad you got my letters.”

Lucy’s side had been itching all the way here. She wasn’t sure if it was the wound itself, or the fact that she knew it was there. She had scratched the skin raw during her nearly week-long trip across the Atlantic. Dropping her hat, she crossed the room to the fire. A long iron poker lay to the left, and she propped it up so the end was properly thrust into the coals. “Do you have any whiskey, Alice?”

“Where are my manners?” she said, dashing off to the small kitchen, “would you like it watered down any?”

“No,” Lucy replied, shrugging off her coat and starting to work on the buttons of her blouse, “straight, if you don’t mind.”

By the time Alice reappeared in the living room, Lucy stood naked from the waist up in front of the fire. Alice stopped dead in the doorway, eyeing her like she had lost her mind. Lucy remained unabashed. Alice was more like family than anyone who shared her blood, a sister in every way but biology. She drew nearer to where Lucy stood, eyes focused on the ugly raised skin on her right side. She handed off the whiskey, voice low, “did — did he…?”

“With a knife,” Lucy said, knocking back her whiskey. The rush of it flooded her from head to toe, glowing warmth settling in her chest. She put down the glass, grasping Alice’s hand in her own, “I need to ask a favour of you.”

“What?”

Pulling the poker from the fire, she eyed the metal. The edges glowed a bright orange, and she handed it off to Alice, “burn it. Please, for the love of God. I can’t walk around with it any longer.”

“Lucy,” Alice said, swiping at tears that hadn’t fallen yet, “you can’t ask that of me.”

“Please, Alice,” Lucy begged, raising her arm to show the full effect of the scar. Two jagged letters, FV, sat in the curve between her breast and ribs. “I feel like a cow.”

Alice nodded, grabbing the poker with two hands. “Arms up on the mantel. I don’t want to catch you somewhere else by accident.”

Bracing herself against the fireplace, Lucy sucked in a sharp breath as Alice dragged a chair over, propping her legs against it in case her knees gave out. The poker met her skin, blinding pain blooming across her ribs. Her death-grip on the oak mantel kept her from drawing away from the poker, but she wouldn’t have in the first place. The pain was cleansing. Rebirth lived on the razor’s edge of it, each wave of agony burning away the letters, the words, where his knife had dug into the flesh. She wished she could do this to her whole body. That the Lucienne who had loved him could go up in smoke as easily.

“It’s done,” Alice said, dashing away as if she had been the one burned, “I’ll get water to draw the heat out, and I think I have cooling gel here somewhere.”

Finally letting herself fall away from the fireplace, Lucy flopped onto the chair. As her head lolled back, she smiled at Alice. “Thank you."

Alice paused in the threshold of the kitchen. The apartment, Lucy realized, was arranged strangely. Alice’s things littered the rooms, with strange gaps. Like she had left space for George to put his things, and the holes still had yet to be filled. Her belongings, she supposed, could slot in to the empty spaces. “No,” Alice said, “thank you. For coming when I needed you."

For a moment when she woke, Lucy forgot where she was.

She came to thrashing, just as she had for the past week and a half. But Alice’s familiar smell clung to the sheets of the guest bed, and all at once she came back to herself.

Her new burn made dressing difficult, but it didn’t hurt nearly as terribly as she thought it would. The skin was a jagged block of new and old flesh, the once raised scar now lowered compared to the surrounding skin. Alice had informed her of a nearby bar in need of staffing, and she refused to languish unhelpfully for longer than she had. The past few days had been spent with Alice dashing off to work at the hospital, while Lucy cleaned anything she could get her hands on. She had assembled her and Alice’s things into a tidy order, the gaps where George’s belongings had been easily forgotten.

The dress she wore today reminded her of her uniform during the war, the sky-blue of it matching her eyes rather wonderfully. Little bluebird, a familiar voice hissed in her mind, mon alouette. She brushed harder against her palm. Despite herself, she couldn’t bear to cut her hair. It remained far past her shoulders — horribly old-fashioned. The curls helped a little, even if she spent a solid half hour a week brushing them out. The golden red of it didn’t suit the new style of bob anyhow, unlike Alice’s shiny black hair.

Staring into the mirror, she stopped seeing the woman she had been for the past seven months. The Lucy that had slogged her way to the medical tents and worked twelve-hour shifts on her feet reappeared. She almost expected to turn her head and find her face splattered in fresh blood.

She wondered if she would ever be the girl who had never seen war again, or if she was lost to 1913.

Twisting her hair back into the same bun she had worn for the four years of the War, she felt more and more like her old self again. By the time she had stepped out the door, her spine was straighter than it had been in months, and she met the eyes of each person she passed dauntlessly. And they stared. Both her dress and cloak-like coat were the same bright blue, admittedly standing out amongst the darker colours the people of Birmingham seemed to prefer. Otherwise, her old-fashioned sense of style and red hair made her stick out like a sore thumb.

When she swung open the door, the bar — pub, she reminded herself — appeared empty. She called out into the silence, cringing as her voice echoed back to her, “hello? Anyone here?”

“We’re closed right now love,” a voice answered. The man it belonged to came around the corner. He was fairly tall, wearing a suit of a fine make with the jacket and tie cast off. He had an impressive moustache, laid against a somewhat old, weathered face. His ears were quite large, and she tried desperately not to stare at them.

“I was told there was a job opening? For someone to come sing.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

“Lucienne Frasier,” she said, cursing her blend of an accent. “But most English folk call me Lucy. I’m from Ottawa, in Canada. My mother was French, and my father was Scottish, so I sound a tad strange. But I’ve moved to Birmingham.”

She was babbling, and she knew this, but it was proving rather difficult to stop. Out came the hand gestures, and the rushed voice, but words kept spilling out of her. “I’ve worked in bars before. Before the War, I mean. As a singer, and as a barmaid. During the War, I was nurse. Served on the Western Front. But that’s not relevant, is it?…”

Her question hung in the air as a second, utterly familiar man rounded the corner. Sergeant Major Thomas Shelby stood staring back at her, a look on his face like he had just seen a ghost. She supposed he had. She hadn’t even considered the fact that she might bump into him in Birmingham, despite the relatively small size of the city. God, how could she be so stupid?

Northern France, November 4th, 1916.  

“Seven more wounded!” Someone called. Men dragged in the dead and dying on stretchers. A beat. Lucy was too slow, five other nurses had already flocked to the dead bodies. They were the easiest, only needing someone to properly pronounce them dead before moving on. She settled for a man with blood staining his torso, who lay still as a corpse. Dragging him over to her workspace, she began to cut away his torn and dirty uniform. Beneath, she saw that he was littered with stab wounds.

“Leave him,” Nurse Bernadette said, “he’s almost dead anyway. It’s not worth the effort.”

Maybe it was the fact that Bernadette was a raging bitch, and every nurse, medic, and doctor this side of the Marne knew it. Maybe it was the faint fluttering of the soldier’s eyelashes as she spoke. Maybe it was the fact that he was beautiful. Either way, a surge of anger and protectiveness rose in Lucy’s chest, and she snapped back, “mind your own damn patient. He’s mine to take care of, and I’ll do as I please.”  

Bernadette, ever the arsepiece, turned to Doctor Thompson. “Tell her to leave him be, she’s wasting time and resources.”

Doctor Thompson scanned the man, and saw Lucy’s face. “Her patient, her decision. We don’t have time for this, Bernadette. Mind your own.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Lucy said, eyeing Bernadette murderously. She got to work, splashing her hands in Dakin solution and tossing on a pair of gloves. Anesthetic was administered quickly, and with expert technique. Thank God, his organs weren’t damaged. The stab wounds were numerous, but shallow. From the size and shape, it looked as though they had been made by an idiot who didn’t know how to use a bayonet. The work was painstaking, each stitch made with the utmost precision. Other nurses whirled around her in constant movement, stretchers flying across the medical tent as men were either healed enough to be taken to Recovery, or died on the table.

“Lucy,” a voice called. It was Nurse Russell, she realized. “Your shift is up, someone else can take over for you.”

“No,” Lucy murmured, shifting the man’s skin so the layers lined up with one another. She was hoping to reduce scarring, if possible.

She lost herself in the work, slaving over the dozens of minuscule stitches needed to piece him back together. By the time she was done, the clock informed her that it was an hour and half past the end of her twelve-hour shift.

“I’ll take him to Recovery,” she said, her tiredness crashing down on her now that she was aware of the time. She tugged him onto a rolling stretcher, and carted him off to the Recovery tent. She put him in one of the nicer ones, with ‘rooms’ sectioned off with hanging canvas. It was thick enough to block out some of the noise, and provided about as much privacy as one could expect.

Before she left to go sleep, she cast a backwards glance at him. His chest rose and fell slowly, but steadily. He was out of the woods. A strange feeling of relief passed over her. An odd affection for a man she had never so much as spoken to blooming in her chest.

She needed to sleep.

Northern France, November 6th, 1916.

“How’s Caesar?” Alice asked, poking her head into the room.

Lucy still wasn’t quite sure how she had swung it with Nurse Russell to let her momentarily switch from Incoming tents to Recovery. Well, she was somewhat sure. Not one full sleep after she had carefully stitched him back together, nearly every nurse in Recovery and otherwise had started fighting over who would get to watch over him. It wasn’t because he was good looking, though that certainly helped. He was a mystery. He still hadn’t woken, and there was absolutely no form of identification on him. It tickled the fancy of the girls who had signed on to be nurses out of a botched romanticism, and at least stirred the curiosity of the others. Lucy insisted that she should be the one to care for him, given that she had treated him, and therefore knew his wounds best. Nurse Russell had no doubt seen an easy out there, and deemed it the perfect solution.

“Still sleeping,” Lucy answered, absentmindedly feeling the cloth on his forehead. He had started running a bit hot within the first day of her taking him into her care. It seemed to stem from whatever he was dreaming of, however, as she had checked thoroughly for any signs of infection and found nothing. He was healing remarkably well. “You’ll be the first to know if he rises from his slumber.”

Grinning, Alice tossed her a canteen of fresh water. “I had better be. Don’t forget to grab some food, lunch’s in an hour.”

Lucy took a grateful sip, nodding as she made to soak Caesar’s cloth in bowl of cold water at his bedside. Settling down with her book of Tennyson, she made a mental note to change his bandages in a half hour.

She could pass hours like this, entertaining herself with small menial tasks and the minutiae of tending to him. She supposed she could have gone and checked on the others, but it wasn’t as though Recovery was short-staffed. She took up darning a pair of socks Alice had handed off to her, insisting that if Lucy was going to sit around Caesar’s beside all day, she might as well make herself useful. Without doing much in the way of thinking, she began to hum, which grew into full-out soft singing. It was a Scottish song her grandmother had sung to her as a child, some ballad that doubled as a lullaby. She kept going as she went to change Caesar’s bandages, turning to the side to grab her medical bag.

A rough voice echoed through the room, nearly scaring her out of her skin, “are you an angel?”

Any song died in her throat, and she turned back to see Caesar staring at her, bleary-eyed. “Not an angel,” she managed, ignoring the little thrill in her chest as she took in the bright blue of his eyes. “Just a nurse.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding a little. “Figured an angel wouldn’t be singing a Jacobite song, but thought I’d check.”

He had a thick accent, that while being unmistakably English, was unlike any of the other accents she had come across just yet. She gently tapped his bandages, “I need to change these, do you mind?” When he waved his consent, she began to peel back the thick cotton, examining his wounds as she spoke, “everyone will be so pleased to hear you’ve woken. What’s your name, by the way? You lost your identification, so we’ve been calling you Caesar I’m afraid.”

His eyes drifted open a little wider, surprise and amusement swirling in them in equal measure. “Caesar?”

“That’s my fault,” she admitted, cheeks heating. “I started it. We’re supposed to call unidentified men John Doe, but I thought Caesar was a little more apt, what with all the stab wounds.” She gestured to his torso, which was littered with stitches.

He peered over his chest, craning his neck to see his stomach. “Ah. I nearly forgot.”

“Forgot being almost stabbed to death?”

“You’d be surprised what a man can forget when he doesn’t want to dwell on something.”

“Well,” she drawled, “you’re healing wonderfully. You’re welcome, by the way. I had to fight to be allowed to stitch you up.”

“Bit of a lost cause, was I?”

“In the opinion of some,” she sniffed, slathering a poultice over the stitches to keep them from getting stiff.

A smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But not in yours?”

She turned to made eye contact with him, growing serious. “No one is beyond saving until their heart stops beating. Anyone who says otherwise is just lazy.”

“In that case, you have my eternal thanks,” he joked. “My name’s Thomas. Thomas Shelby.”

Tugging his chart out from beneath her pile of recreational activities, she wrote his name in clear print. “Age, rank, and affiliation?”

“Twenty-six, Sergeant Major, Small Heath Rifles, British Royal Forces. And you? Do you have a name?”

“Lucienne Frasier,” she murmured, offering him a drink of water, “but you can call me Lucy, if you’d like. Twenty-three, Nursing Sister, Canadian Army Medical Corps.”

“Ah, you’re one of the bluebirds,” he said, accepting a swig from her canteen. Shifting in his bed, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “Tell me, do all Canadians have an accent like yours?”

“No, I’m special I’m afraid,” she quipped. “I’m from Ottawa, so I suppose I have a bit of the Valley accent. But my father’s Scottish, and my mother’s Quebec French from across the river in Gatineau. Blend all that together, and you get my voice.” “Well, it’s lovely,” he said, tone ringing with a sincerity that made her toes curl in her boots.

“And where are you from? I’ve never heard an English accent like yours.”

“Small Heath, in Birmingham.” His tone was fond, and her breath caught in her chest as the smallest of smiles bloomed across his mouth. “The Brummie accent’s quite a bit different from anything else, you’ll find.”

“I see,” she teased, “so you’re special too.”

“Quite,” he said, schooling his face into the model of seriousness. “Unbelievably special. You’ve no idea.”

Silence hung in the air for a few moments before he cracked a grin, and she exploded into quiet laughter, shoulders shaking with the force of it. He joined her, though he winced in pain. “Careful,” she giggled, “you’ll rip your stitches. And they were an absolute bitch to put in, so they’d better stay put.”

“Aye aye, Nurse Frasier,” he said, eyes drifting around the room. They landed on her book, and his face lit up, “is that Tennyson?”

“Yes, do you care for him?”

“My mother used to read poetry to us before bed,” he murmured. “One of her favourites was The Lady of Shallot.”

“That’s right after the one I’m on, at current. Would you like me to read aloud?”

“God, please,” he groaned. “It’s been so long since I’ve done anything but play cards and drink. Bless my compatriots, but war’s not a particularly intellectual pursuit.”

Settling back into her chair, she opened to the page she had last read. “I’ll start back at the beginning, it’s not particularly long. It’s Oriana.”

He nodded, settling back into his pillows with a small noise of contentment. A warmth filled her chest and entered her voice as she read, but she ignored it. “My heart is wasted with my woe, Oriana. There is no rest for me below, Oriana…”

Northern France, November 20th, 1916.

As she tugged her book of Tennyson out of Tommy’s hands, she couldn’t help but think that his pout was adorable. “Let’s go, physical therapy.”

“I was halfway through Lady Clare,” he complained, shifting his blankets off his legs anyway. “I’m thoroughly enjoying your notes in the margins.”

She tucked the book into his pack, snug between a thermos and a rather large matchbook. “You can keep it until you finish, now let’s go.” She tugged Tommy up and out of bed, his legs giving way beneath him as they hit the floor. In the span of a few seconds she had nearly the full one-hundred-and-thirty pounds of him draped over her. She wasn’t shorter by much, but her own knees halfway buckled, a small noise of surprise escaping her throat. For the briefest of moments her brain refused to work. All she could register was the heat from his chest against her palms, and the smell of him in her nose.

Snapping out of it, she timed her breaths to still the racing of her heart, pulling away. “Careful, it’s my night off. If you break a bone, you’ll be fucked ’til the morning.”

“If it’s your night off, where are we going?”

“Out of this tent,” she said, steadying him on his feet. “You can walk now, and I’m willing to be you’re bored out of your right mind. So come with me.”

Laughing under his breath, he let her help him into a coat and shoes and lead him out of the maze of army canvas. “I’m not complaining, but aren’t there rules about this sort of thing?”

“The only person who could get me in trouble is Nurse Russell, and she adores me.” Turning to face him, she flashed a bright grin. “Besides, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

They tumbled out into the night air hand-in-hand, giggling to themselves. A group of nurses and medics were clumped together, bottles of liquor from home clutched in their hands. “Lucy!” Alice called, waving her over.

“Alice,” she greeted amiably, “meet Sergeant Major Thomas Shelby, formerly known to all as ‘Caesar’.”

Laughing, Alice offered her a fresh bottle of champagne. She grinned at Tommy, “right clever, isn’t our Lucy?”

“The cleverest,” he said solemnly, his hand migrating from hers to the small of her back. She tried to pretend that the sudden warmth in her stomach was from the champagne as she tilted her head back, cheeks heating. She handed him the bottle, admiring the line of his jaw as he took a swig.

“Lucy!” a voice called, Doctor Harding waving at her, “guess what we’ve got!”

“What?” she called back, offering him a wave in return. “Brigadier General Alexander gave us his record player for tonight, bless him!”

“No!,” she said, drawing nearer to see the player and a stack of records propped on a table someone had carted outside. “How on earth?”

“I have my ways,” Alice said, batting her eyelashes playfully.

Snorting, Lucy took another drink of champagne, “does he know you’re engaged?"

Alice shrugged, “he knows what he needs to.”

“Sing for us, will you?” Doctor Harding asked. “You’ve such a lovely voice.”

“Doesn’t she?” Tommy said, tugging her a little closer. “First thing I heard when I woke up. Thought she was a bloody angel.”

“Reminds me of my wife,” Doctor Harding said carefully, as though he was defusing a bomb. “I hope our daughter inherits that, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

Something about Tommy softened, and Doctor Harding seemed to settle as well. God, she would never understand men. Loosening herself from Tommy’s grip, she approached the pile of records, deciding on Clair de Lune. Her grandmother used to sing a version with words to her as a lullaby, and she was in the mood for something sad and comforting. The soft crackle of the player was achingly familiar, and she was forced to remember how long it had been since she used one.

The song was soft, and she revelled in the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her as she sang. Most of all, she shivered beneath Tommy’s gaze. He looked at her as though she actually was an angel. Some primeval creature descended from the heavens. She wound up staring at him as the final chords of the song played. It was him who began to clap first, a rare, bright grin spreading over his face. Something a little like relief flooded her chest, and she grinned back.

For the rest of the night, they were glued together at the hip. Settling beneath a tree with their champagne, she found herself growing bolder. “You have a girl back home?”

A cloud passed over his face, and he took another pull from the bottle, lighting up a cigarette. “Used to, before the War. Her name was Greta. She died of consumption before I enlisted.”

Clutching at her chest, a dozen feelings filtered through Lucy before she spoke. Regret. Empathy. Relief. Self-loathing. “My mother died of consumption when I was ten. I’m so sorry, Tommy.”

“She did?”

Lucy nodded, fisting her hands in her skirt. “We sent her to a sanitarium early on, so none of the rest of us caught it. Broke my father’s heart. He’s never stopped regretting not being able to be with her at her deathbed. Suppose I haven’t either.”

“What about you then,” he said, taking another drag as he changed the subject, “you have a boy waiting for you somewhere?”

“Good question.”

“What do you mean?”

Biting her lip, she dropped his gaze. “I was seeing someone before the War. We’ve known each other since the cradle, and I suppose we’ve loved each other just as long. He enlisted before I finished my nursing course. We’ve never… put a name to anything. He told me before he left that he thought it was for the best if we put whatever we had on hold until after the War. After all, God knows if one of us is going to die before everything’s over.” Her voice turned to ash in her mouth, and she tried not to mumble. “ Alice thinks he just wanted to be able to fuck someone overseas and not feel bad about it. But then again, her and George heard about the War and were engaged in a week. She’s an odd duck.”

Silence hung between them for a moment, and she felt the rough pad of his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. His face was earnest as he spoke, “he’s a fucking idiot.”

Her breath was shaky, and she found herself speaking before she thought, “honestly, I don’t know if I even really love him.”

“Why?” Tommy asked, voice rough.

He doesn’t make me feel like you do. “I’ve never tried to love anyone else. We just grew up and decided we were in love and that was that. I was his, and he was mine. What if we made a mistake?”

“I think you should expand your horizons while you have the chance,” he murmured, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. She melted into his touch, jolting upwards as a round of applause split the night air.

Whoever was performing had just finished. Now someone was strumming a guitar, the beginning to a sailor’s song everyone knew the words to. “C’mon,” she said, struggling to her feet. “I’ll teach you to dance the reel.”

The next few minutes consisted of her attempting to teach a very drunk Tommy a dance she knew from childhood, all while being equally ossified.

“No,” she giggled, showing him how to move his foot, “like that!”

“Okay,” he said very seriously, “like this?”

They made it about halfway through, until the section where they were supposed to circle one another, palms about an inch apart with the other hand tucked behind your back. Instead, he laced their fingers together, curling his free arm around her waist. Everything stopped, the earth grinding to a halt on its axis. Everything but his face lost colour and was shrouded in darkness, all sounds but their loose pants falling into quiet. Every inch of her was on alert, all too aware of every single place where their bodies met.

“Could I kiss you?” he murmured, eyes sweeping over her face.

“God, please,” she begged.

He did, mouth ghosting over hers in a soft kiss that sent shivers down her spine and curled her toes in her boots. It was unbelievably short and chaste. Hardly enough. She pressed herself closer to him, stretching onto her tiptoes to kiss him again. His hand left hers, burying itself in her hair.

Tipping slightly off-balance, she flung her arms around his neck as she tumbled into his chest. He groaned into her mouth, arm tightening around her waist as the kiss deepened. She felt like she was on fire and drowning all at once, skin far too sensitive and breath coming in a rush between kisses. God, how long had she wanted to do this?

As he pulled back, she pressed a kiss to his jaw, “I knew there was a reason I saved your sorry ass.”

“Am I ever glad you did,” he said, his hand rubbing soothing circles into her hip.

“I should bring you back, curfew’s soon.”

“Would you stay?”

She almost said yes. Between his hand in her hair and the taste of his cigarette still lingering in her mouth, she couldn’t imagine prying herself away from him. She swallowed a lump in her throat. ”You know I can’t.”

“I know,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. Her heart melted in her chest. “But God, I want you to.”

Tugging herself from his grip, she intertwined their fingers. “Let’s go, I’ll see you to bed.”

When she finally did help into his cot, he stole another kiss from her as she leaned over to fix his blanket. “Thank you for tonight. I did need it.”

She smiled, running her fingers through his hair, “don’t I know everything?”

“If I say you do, will you kiss me again?”

“Bribes are unnecessary, I assure you, mon coeur,” she said, pressing a quick peck to his mouth. “Now go to bed, you can hassle me in the morning.”

“Could you stay until I fall asleep?”

Sighing, she stuffed his blankets to the side to lie on top of them. He eagerly made way for her, wrapping an arm around her side. “Just until then, and then I have to go.”

He hummed his consent, burying his nose in her hair. She had to admit that they fit together well, his ribs slotting into the negative space left by the curve of her spine, arm slung perfectly across her waist. For the briefest of moments she though of Félix, and her heart withered in her chest. How could she lie with someone else, knowing he was out there somewhere?

No. She was being an idiot. He was the one who had called off whatever they had. And like Alice said, she had no assurances that he wasn’t off seeing other women as soon as he got a bit of leave. And god, she had never felt anything like this before. The soft rush of Tommy’s breaths ghosting over her ear filled her with a strange kind of inner peace. All she wanted was to lie like this until the end of time; to fossilize and stay frozen with his weight against hers.

He had fallen asleep, she realized. With great chagrin, she gently extricated herself from his grip. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, she left him sleeping happily for the night.

As soon as she entered her own room, she felt any energy she had leave her. She barely had the strength to peel off her boots before she fell into bed, the smell of him still stuck in her nose.  

God, she was fucked.

Northern France, November 21st, 1916.

She burst into Tommy’s room, a ball of panic. She had woken up late, and incredibly hungover. But she had still come to with a smile on her face.

To her surprise, the room was empty. Absolutely barren. Someone had stripped the bed and remade it, all of Tommy’s personal effects having disappeared. Poking her head out of the room, she called to a gaggle of nurses a few feet away, “where’s Sergeant Major Shelby?”

“Oh,” Nurse Jameson said, “we thought you knew, and that’s why you didn’t show up this morning. He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” she snapped, a ball of lead settling in her stomach.

“He was called back to the front,” Nurse Jameson said quietly. “They came for him early, barely gave him enough time to gather his things. Apparently they have a big project planned for the Clay-Kickers.”

She was hyperventilating, she noticed dimly. Her hands came to her chest, clutching at her heart. He couldn’t be gone. Just… gone. She felt like the wind had stolen her five-dollar note, and she was staring after it helplessly, grasping at the empty air where it had been.  

Retreating back into his — the room, she collapsed onto the bed. She hadn’t realized just how much it had smelled of him in here, now that his familiar scent was replaced with antiseptic and bleach. What had she really expected? That he would stay here forever? That she would get to wake up every morning and get to discuss books and poetry with him, teach him silly songs, exchange stories from before the War? She didn’t know. All she knew was that it felt as though someone had carved up her heart and taken a piece with them, and now she was supposed to live on without it.

“Well,” the moustached man said, “if you’re gonna’ apply to be a singer, might as well sing us something.” He gestured to a record player in the corner.

In the stack of records lay a copy of Debussy’s greatest works, and a strange boldness filled her. Her hands trembled as she lowered the needle onto the record, the grainy sound of Clair de Lune echoing through the pub.

Turning to face the brothers, she took her hat off, fully revealing her face. She began to sing, her shaky voice joining the swell of the piano:

You there, pearly white.

Can you see those stars, in my eyes?

A nice reflection it may be, so it seems, to me.

A kiss from Heaven lightly breathed,

Nightly unsheathed.

As she settled into the familiar rhythm of it, her voice grew louder. She began to move about the floor of the Garrison, tracing the shining wood of the tables as though it was full of patrons to be entertained.

You there, pearly white.

Can you hear those, stars tonight?

How I wonder what they might say to you.

O, how they wander but hardly they ever move.

What do they whisper while hardly they ever move?

The piano picked up in pace, and Lucy turned to face the brothers again, catching their gazes as she pushed forward. Tommy was staring at her like she had grown wings and flew, and she couldn’t help maintaining eye contact. Something about the look on his face made her feel powerful. Unearthly.

What do they tell you?

Tell me what they tell you.

What do they show you?

Show me what they show you.

And if I know you,

Like they likely know you,

Could I die?

Oh my dear.

And then she was no longer in 1919, in Birmingham. She was back on the Western Front, with blood still under her fingernails and Thomas Shelby’s eyes on her as she sang to a scratchy record on Brigadier General Alexander’s record player.

Love.

A lasting love,

Like a dove that flies

Right over the years.

Truth.

Precious truth.

She drew closer, making direct eye contact with Tommy as she sang the next few lines. A shiver ran down her spine and crept into her voice, curling into a gentle vibrato.

As in youth, I’d like to fly

Up above.

Lasting love.

Lasting love, enough to rise up

Through the evening sky tonight.

How you wander right over the evening sky

Like a dove.

Lasting love.

Everlasting love, like I never knew.

Quite, like you do.

Precious truth.

For the briefest of moments she directed her attention back to Arthur, who looked positively enraptured. But it was the heat and the memory in Tommy’s eyes that drew her back to him, moving a little further away as she sat on one of the tables, crossing her legs and leaning backwards as though she were draping herself over a piano. The rolling chords of the song slowed to a gentle plucking, framing the breathiness of her voice perfectly.

As in,

You there.

Pearly white.

Can you feel those stars tonight?

How I wonder if they are kind,

Are they kind to you?

How I wonder if maybe they sing this song for you?

There was the shortest of musical interludes, and in that time Lucy drew her finger across the shining wood of the table, lowering her eyes from Tommy’s. When she looked back up he had taken a step toward her. His chest moved up and down too quickly, breathless. And thank God, because she was too.

You there, pearly white.

Can you sing a song tonight?

Just for me,

Just for me dear.

Of a lasting…

Ever…

More music. Lucy slipped off the table, coming into Tommy’s space. He was quite tall. How hadn’t she remembered that? She was of a fairly average height, nowhere near Alice’s pixie-esque stature. But he dwarfed her. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.

Everlasting,

True love.

The piano drew to a beautiful close, and with a scratch and a jostle the record switched to a different Debussy. Chest heaving, she was still staring at Tommy, who stood in front of her like a marble statue. Arthur’s loud, bellowing voice echoed through the Garrison, “bloody beautiful! I’d say you have a job, Miss Frasier.”

All at once, the spell was broken. Shaking herself from her trance, she flashed the elder Shelby brother a bright grin, “thank you very much, Mr. Shelby. When should I start?”

“Tomorrow, if you can,” he said, taking her wrist and pulling her towards the bar. Removing a glass, he gestured to the wall of liquor with a questioning glance.

“Scotch, if you please. Straight.”

Chuckling, he pulled the whiskey from the first shelf, pouring her a glass. She took it gratefully, shooting half of it in one go. Her heart was still thumping a mile a minute in her chest, and she needed to still her shaking hands before someone noticed. “Now,” Arthur began, “our establishment is rather casual, so you’ll double as a barmaid. A couple of the boys can be a little handsy, but they’re a good bunch.”

“I’ve worked in bars before, Mr. Shelby. If one of them tries to get me against the wall I’ll give them a swift kick in the couilles, no need to worry. Now what would my duties be?”

As Arthur went over exactly what her job would entail, Tommy didn’t move from where she had left him. Twenty minutes later, she was back out on the street with a job and some future prospects. She couldn’t contain her giddiness, permitting a small grin. But she found herself waiting at the corner of the building. She wondered if Tommy would follow her out. Explain. Discuss. Praying no one would mistake her for a whore, she leaned against the brick wall, drawing her hat low.

A few beats. The sound of a door.

Tommy Shelby appeared at the corner, a cigarette already drawn between his fingers. “It is you.”

Raising the brim of her cap, she nodded, “it’s me.”

“Why’ve you come to Birmingham?” he asked, lighting the cigarette with an efficient strike of his match and a puff.

“You remember Alice,” she murmured, “she lives here now. This is where her fiancé was from. He died at Verdun, and she didn’t know where else to go. She’s been lonely, so she sent for me.”

“And your boy, did he ever come home?”

“He did.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, offering her his cigarette, “he came to England with you?”

She waved it off, resisting the urge to cross her arms. “No.”

He leveraged a curious look at her, “why not?’

“We’re not together,” she explained, praying he’d leave it at that.

“Decided not to rekindle the romance when you both returned home?”

“No.”

Thank God, he did leave it at that. Nodding to her, he took another drag of his cigarette, “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then.”

This surprised her. “You will?”

“My family’s company owns the pub,” he said. “You’d be surprised how often I’m here.”

“Well,” she said, flashing him a grin, “it’ll be lovely to see you. We should catch up.”

His eyes were as intense as ever, burrowing into her soul. God, he was beautiful.

Something about his voice was rough, “I didn’t mean to leave so suddenly. I had to go.

“God,” she said, trying to instill a false cheeriness in her words, “I hope you haven’t been worrying about it. I was a little shocked, but I lived.”

“Good,” he said, pulling his cap further over his face. “Have a good day, Miss Frasier.”

“Same to you,” she murmured, cursing herself for creating a distance between them. All she wanted was to see his face properly.

Instead, she peeled herself off the brick wall and kept walking, headed back in the direction of Alice’s apartment. She had done the right thing, she reassured herself. How could she be close with Tommy so soon after everything that had happened with Félix? And it had been years since she last saw him. For all she knew, he was happily married. It was incredily bold of her to assume that he’d even feel the same way after all this time, or even to ascribe the same depth to his feelings as hers in the first place.

Feeling reassured, she slipped her copy of her employment contract from her coat.

Tomorrow she would begin her job with Shelby Company Limited.

Chapters: I II ...

Ao3

[boofmont]

- ̗̀ * ( liana liberato + cisfemale + she/her ) have you seen ( saige beaumont ) walking around campus ? they are a ( 20 ) year old, studying ( linguistics + criminal psychology ). we hear they are in ( theta sigma eta ), and can be ( passionate & irrational ), maybe it’s because they are a ( cancer ). they sort of remind us of ( drunk stick n' pokes at 2am, avoiding cracks in the sidewalk, the familiar riff of an old song ), maybe we can find out more ! ( jamesy the fool + 20 + EST + she/they ) * ̖́- + newspaper photographer, campus tour, swim

lmao hi here’s my final baby she is the love of my life i’ve known her for 8 years i think and she’s come a long way sdfkgh please love her as much as i love her. if i was fictionkin i’d identify solely with her (and she’s not even a self insert ! wow !) **IM STILL ON HAITUS UNTIL MONDAY BUT I HAD THIS READY TO GO LMAO**

TW: ALCOHOLISM, DRUG ABUSE? MENTIONS.

gen. info

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): she...doesn’t have any in this timeline but PLEASE, she LOVES nicknames. she’s a nickname slut.

b.o.d. - july 7th, 20 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ thank u very much !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK (minus aster). but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

biography

the only child of a world renown fashion designer named manon lévêsque (surname kept b/c Branding) and US lieutenant general robert beaumont

manon’s brand is like...on the level of chanel, and dior, and shit, y’know??

manon’s...obv french, very french. born n raised in france. 

robert beaumont comes from a very southern family, all located in louisana. also french, just more...american.

they’re fucking loaded

saige’s childhood wasn’t the...Usual, childhood. they moved around a lot as due to both of her parents’ jobs. (’cos robert wasn’t ALWAYS a 4-star army man smh)

the longest they’ve rly stayed in one place (minus saige’s ucla yrs) is like...two yrs, tops ??

due 2 that she didn’t rly make...a lotta friends?

but when she DID , it was always the most interesting ppl she could find

but her parents were always SUPER strict

it was like they came together purely to mold the perfect child

like, they controlled where she went! what she wore! who she interacted with! what she watched or read or listened to!

she’d have bodyguards on her when her parents were busy, not nannies

she was taught all the proper things ladies were to learn, like cooking and sewing and ballroom dancing, and more

she was also taught how to drop a man to his knees in less than 10 seconds and how to shoot a gun, but that was it in terms of self defense skdfgh

eventually saige got bored with a life of being carefully watched and attending military balls and fashion runways

how do u surround a girl w/ so much culture and expect her to not want to experience life for what it is?

she learned how to dodge guards in order to go canoeing in the full moon with strangers she’d met five hrs prior, and how to blend in at festivals filled with throat-melting sweet drinks

she almost landed in a tabloid at the age of 15 for sneaking out w/ a boy three years older and her parents paid a lot of money to hide it.

no matter how much they tried to keep her rooted, saige always found a way to bend the rules and escape her lil golden cage

like they even had her homeschooled w/ the best tutors one could pay for n she still yeeted tf out whenever she could

born for the party life t b h

they decided that the best course of action to deal w/ her was to finally keep her in one place so they p much made her go to ucla lmao

homegirl did NOT want to go at first, just ‘cos she HATES being rooted to one place, is used to traveling the world and seeing shit and learning other cultures n shit, y’know ??

but then she joined theta sigma eta lmao n the parties ??

fucking amazing

it didn’t take a lot for her to be convinced to stay, esp ‘cos her parents didn’t quite realize...how big the party scene is

(not like they could’ve sent her to like...harvard or smth...homegirl’s smart but not THAT smart lmaooo)

unfortunately, saige has piss poor self control; and this was too much freedom for her. she was being Too Wild

anyWays the summer before her current year (i ... think she’s a sophomore ?) she went to a particularly wild party and somehow ended up at one of her mother’s collection launch parties w/ a pal of hers !!

and she totally embarrassed her mom !! in front of everybody !! being lil’ ol drunk n freshly 20 yr old !

after that saige was NOT welcomed at home (wherever home was, at the moment, that is). she wasn’t DISOWNED ‘cos that’d be HORRIBLE for the press n god, imagine the media ?? it would worsen it all

but she wasn’t allowed at home. wasn’t allowed with them. wasn’t allowed to see them unless at events they specifically ordered her to come to for press reasons

doesn’t really...know where she’s going to go in the summer ‘cos the summer she Fucked Up she lived out of hotel suites and friend’s couches. n like yeah she can just Buy a place or smth but ?? commitment ?? adult decisions ?? christ !

nobody knows her parents have essentially kicked her tf out and aren’t even talkin’ to her, ‘cos homegirl’s ashamed

it isn’t rly hard to hide it tho ‘cos her parents still give her a shit ton of money LMAO rich privilege

but it can’t fix how absolutely hurt she is

the alcohol , however, COULD

started partying more, and more intensely, and didn’t stop when the parties did

alcohol became part of her diet.

irish cream in her mornin’ coffee, coke n rum at lunch, vodka and like...23 packets of crystal lite in her hydro flask during lectures

without alcohol, she suffers terrible withdraws and those turn her into a completely different person

noBoDy KnoWs

or if they do, they don’t realize the extent of it! just how bad it is! ‘cos she’s a big ol’ faker

she’s fine it’s FINE

personality

i actually have...traits i’ve written for her

positive traits:

kindhearted, optimistic, energetic, dreamy, charismatic, intelligent (to...a degree, lmao), active, charismatic, sympathetic, amiable

negative traits:

naive, dumb (to...a degree, double lmao), self-destructive, spiteful, stubborn, defensive, inattentive, unstable, loud, reckless

but ANYWAYS

if she wants to do smth, she’ll do it

there’s no way to talk her outta whatever she has set in her mind, even if it’s fucking STUPID

‘cos she’s stupid and we love her for it

uuuUuUuUuUUUUhh

she’s a vegetarian, loves animals too much 2 do it

has adhd but she’s not medicated ‘cos her parents suck n young girls r always severely under diagnosed ‘cos doctors also suck

she’s allergic to cats, pumpkins, and penicillin

loves cats

she does her own stick n’ pokes, n will do ur stick n’ pokes if u ask. Loves doin ‘em, but she can’t draw for shit LMAO

however ! she does play three instruments:

piano, violin, n bass guitar

hates piano w/ a burning passion ‘cos she was p much forced to learn. thinks violin is lit as fuck. bass guitar? her fav thing ever. did it as an act of rebellion.

also, even tho she’s just....a whole ass dumbass, she knows like...four languages

yes including english

anyways she knows uUUuUH french, spanish, n latin (for funsies)

is also learning mandarin, german, n irish gaelic (for funsies)

is a big language slut, essentially

and a uh...slut in general

like she just rly loves everybody

she’s SUPER friendly, super confident, like...the best gal to know, ‘cos she’s got sm energy n if u don’t talk a lot ? that’s fine ! she’ll talk for u ! even if u don’t ask her to !

but yes she’s not like EASY but she’s easy

she’s had a few short-term relationships and even fewer long-term relationships

and she doesn’t ! have commitment issues !

doesn’t like getting hurt but also ! she will fall in love w/ anybody !

(i’m kidding every time i’ve ever played her in all my years she’s always, always attracted to like...grumpy tough ppl. that’s her type. do u sell drugs? she loves u. do u get into pointless fights and have constantly bruised knuckles? she loves u. did u sell ur soul to the devil? oh, she rly does love u.)

actually thinks rly low of herself but would NEVER let ANYBODY know that ‘cos god forbid

just keep smilin’ :)

probably uses finger guns

skateboards into EVERYTHING she’s fucking CLUMSY and stupid

will wear gucci on top of her thrift finds (stop going to goodwill if ur nearly a billionaire u dumbass)

that being said she’s not always........aware? she’s not shallow but she’s kind of just...she’ll throw her money at u if u can’t afford smth, and like...doesn’t know how taxes work? and also...doesn’t know how poor ppl go on living?

like she’s highly dependent on her money

she has three fucking cars ‘cos she just thought they were PRETTY

one’s a pick up truck w/ LED lights, one’s the literal car from the princess diaries, and the other’s just a real fast sports car

totally does illegal street racing but ? only sometimes ? mostly for funsies rly doesn’t care abt money at all LMAO

she’s...not very independent

she’s got an addictive personality, y’see?

does MANY drugs, like mdma (ecstasy? molly?), coke, shrooms, acid, the marijuanas. i think that’s it.

a lil bit of a cokehead but only at parties okay uwu

idk how but she always manages to be laidback and yet also super energized at the same time. she just truly, does not give a single shit

also i said she was dumb earlier and like...TRUE

excels at english, history, etc. etc.

but as soon as math or science is involved? fart noise

bad shit

hate it

she can’t focus on shit she doesn’t like so like...that doesn’t help

in other news, she can be best described as a DRUNK TINKERBELL

as she was originally a pixie. it’s suiting

she’s ... almost ethereal

will tease u. will act like she’s known u for years. this is normal for saige.

she’s just rly BUBBLY and FUN okay ! pls love her

like pretty please

she’s my best muse by far and i’ve been rping since 2010

OH okay so like fun fact: her mother still sends her pieces that she hasn’t released yet so saige’s closet is filled w/ clothes she will nvr wear ‘cos she refuses to in order to Spite her Mother

also will GIVE these EXCLUSIVE UNreleased articles of clothing to her FRIENDS as GIFTS as a big FUCK U to the MAN (mom)

she’s just a dumbass

wanted connections

ok so gimme a blackmailer who knows abt saige’s like...issues, n instead of tryn to help her they use it to their advantage to get whatever they want from her :^)

also a TUTOR ‘cos she’s stupid in math n science

party pals like do i even have to explain

childhood friend(s) or like...acquaintances ?? she’s traveled for so long

da PLUG gimme her DEALER

ex boyfriend(s) - she loves ppl, sometimes too much. were they in love? maybe not. did she get bored? did he? who knows?

i mean same applies to girlfriends

just ?? a dude who has completely caught her attention. saige finds him SO INTERESTING for some fucking reason. reminds her of travelling, reminds her of her years of exploring. reminds her of a lotta things, rly. he might b a good person. or ! he might not !

random hookups - past ? present ? fwbs ? one night stands ? i’ll take them all !

best friend - y’know. her ride or die. celeste. i mean there can b another, but celeste. try n compete w/ celeste.

other close friends!

fake friends!

frenemies!

(also am a big slut for the on-and-off relationships where theyre both horrible for each other n it’s not.. Good , but they can’t stop ! they won’t stop ! it’s not abusive but it’s toxic just ‘cos they’re both fucking enablers smh breaking up n getting back together all the time)

bad influence ? good influence ?

roommates ??

[hopeatermain]

Are you okay?

A Baguette boyband One-Shot

Rating: T for swearing and slight mentions of Agape’s past.

Genre: I have no idea. I guess there is humor, drama, and hurt/comfort.

Summary: After Elise’s death, Arno is unable to pull himself back together. Temporarily staying at Edgard’s apartment, he doesn’t realize the others are getting worried about him.

Other warning: French. And german. A definition for each word will be put at the end of the story. Also, I have given name to the three others (Axeman=Edgard, Ice cream=Agape, Greencoat=Thomas)

Word count: 1 709 words

‘‘Excusez moi, Monsieur Thomas?’’ 

The assassin turned towards the chambermaid. It had been a while since Mirabeau’s death, and still, he continued to feel empty. No amount of missions or interactions could snap him out of it. He guessed that’s what mourning felt like. Or just depression. He didn’t know and honestly, didn’t care. It only occurred to him now, when the chambermaid came talking to him, just how much of a lamentable state he was in. 

‘‘Pas maintenant.’’

‘‘Mais-’’ 

‘‘J’ai dit, pas maintenant. I known that I am in a lamentable state, but I am able to take care of myself. Thank you for asking.’’

‘‘Hum, I wasn’t there to help you take care of yourself, Monsieur Thomas.’’

‘‘Then, why are you here?’’

‘‘It’s about Monsieur Arno.’’ This got his attention. He thought they had ordered the German one to assassinate him?

‘‘Did something happened to him?... Is he still alive?’’

‘‘Well, we have no idea of where he is. The grandmaster thought it would be wise to inform you of this.’’

‘‘If, of course, the german one did not kill him.’’

‘‘Hum, about that...’’ she hesitated a few seconds ‘‘Monsieur Edgard refused the mission under the pretext that he was not part of the Parisian Brotherhood. And that every single one of the Grandmasters needed to be slapped in the face.’’ Well, that would have been hilarious to watch. ‘‘Our informants told us that Monsieur Arno has gotten rid of Monsieur Germain with the help Mademoiselle Élise, but that she would have died during the fight-’’

That’s all it took.Thomas got up from his spot, tied his black hair that now reached his shoulder blades (for just how long was he so apathetic to his own state?), grabbed his green coat, and ran outside of the hideout, determined to find his old friend.

Edgard entered the tavern, more than a little pissed. Did that french idiot not have better to do than get shit-faced?! He looked around, spotted the (now unconscious) idiot that somehow got accepted into the Brotherhood, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the tavern, grumbling under his breath about being too lebensmüde for this shit.

Once at the apartment, he dumped him in the (empty) bath, before getting a bucket, in case Arno needed to throw up. Which he did. An hour later. Upon hearing the sound of belching, he got up from his work (polishing his axe) and went into the bathroom, watching Arno throwing up before getting behind him to rub his back. 

Poor guy. He knew he was attached to his girlfriend. And that the world seemed to want these two apart. One an assassin, the other a Templar. She blamed him for their fathers death. The council made out of backpfeifengesicht refused an alliance due to one asshole. And her death devastated him. Watching him crumble down again after he thought he was recovering after their first meeting honestly saddened him.

Knock knock.

And he apparently was not the only one.

He got up and answered the door. It was the gypsy (Agape, if his memory served him correctly) that had dragged an Arno that was hit hard by weltschemerz to his apartment, and asked him if it was a safe place for him. He had accepted, of course.

‘‘Does Arno feel better?’’ Sound of belching. ‘‘That answers my question. Can I come in?’’

The german let the gypsy in, and watched him go to the bathroom, before hearing him whispering something to the younger man. It was nor english, nor french, nor german, so he could not exactly understand what the other was saying. He heard gypsies had their own language. Yeah, it was probably that. The gypsy dragged Arno about half an hour later out of the bathroom, before setting him on the couch. The two sat down in the kitchen after making sure Arno had everything needed.

“So, Agape,” the gypsy looked up at him “How did you met Arno?”

“Oh, he introduced me to the Parisian Brotherhood. I know that they are no model of virtue, but, hey, France is currently at war with itself. No one is right, but no one is wrong. At least, that’s how I see it. And it’s always better than being a prostitute at la Cour des Miracles.” “I’ve heard it was a hellhole.” “Oh, it is. Even if hell does not have half-naked boys pretending to be freezing even in the middle of the summer.” Edgard looked at Agape a moment, skeptical. “I am not even joking, they are seriously young ones doing that. And you? How did you meet our mutual friend, Monsieur Friedhart?”

“Call me Edgard. I’ve met him after he got beaten by a bunch of thugs, after his expulsion from the Brotherhood.” “Oh yes, I’ve heard of it.” “So, I got him into my apartment, helped him get back on his feet, and we chased that bunch of  scheißkopf until we got back what they stole from him.” Agape looked a moment at him, perplexed. “What?” “It’s just that you did not exactly trust me when we first met, so I have difficulty understanding why you would take a complete stranger into your home.’’ ‘‘Spite.’’ ‘‘What.’’ ‘‘The parisian Brotherhood is made out of mistsück that, when, after close to a month of travel to go from Germany to France, decided to give me the mission to assassinate a drunktard. I told them to go cry to someone else.’’ ‘‘You did not-’’ ‘‘Oh, but I did. And in less... polite terms.’’ ‘‘I have heard that your german friend told them they had the faces of people who needed to be slapped, and that they could do nothing against him since he was no parisian assassin, but a german one. Am I mistaken?’’

The two assassins turned toward the source of the sound. On the windowstill, sat a man with a green coat. An assassin green coat. Edgard immediately reached for his axe, and Agape for his bombs. ‘‘Calmez-vous, messieurs, I am simply there to pick up news from my old friend.’’ ‘‘You know Arno?’’ ‘‘It is hard not to know your childhood friend. Thomas Mercier, pour vous servir.’’ ‘‘Why should we trust you?’’ ‘‘Because if I was there to assassinate my old friend, I would simply have shoot you two in the face before going to shoot him.’’ ‘‘Well, then, prove to us that you are a friend of Arno.’’ ‘‘Fine.’’

‘‘During his thirteen birthday, Arno, Élise and I snuck away. During our little exploration, we find two litters of alcohol, that we proceeded to pour down our throats because we were little shitheads at the time. And, during our drunk stumbling, we find a mummy, still in it’s sarcophagus. In our little drunk minds, we decide it’s a good idea to put in a cart, and we start rolling it around the mansion, chanting Alouette over and over. We barge into the main room just in time as Monsieur de la Serre start wondering where we went, the cart crashes down, the mummy flies out of it’s sarcophagus, and the well-preserved corpse of a member of one of the most advanced civilisation of all times suddenly becomes the most expensive heap of dust on Earth!’’

‘‘...What.’’ ‘‘You are joking, right?’’ ‘‘Couldn’t make this up if I tried, Monsieur Edgard.’’ Agape got up from his seat. The two men watched him take a bottle of wine that Edgard had put water in, before going in the living room to dump it all on Arno. “DAH!” “Glad to see you back in the realm of the living, Arno. So, there is a man called Thomas at the window in the kitchen who just told us about you destroying a mummy while young and drunk. Did it really happen?” Silence. Then, a howl of fury sounding somewhat like the name of the one in green, before Arno barging in the kitchen and advancing, his steps still somewhat clumsy from all the alcohol he took, toward him.

“Me too, I am happy to see you, old friend.” “We agreed to never speak of this again, Tom-” “How are you doing?” “Don’t try to change the subject, connard-” “Then, answer my question, crétin.” “Why are you asking me that, anyway?” “Because I just learned that the woman to who you gave you complete and utter admiration died, that’s why.”

Upon the mention of Élise, Arno seemed to crumble down. Edgard shot a look to Thomas, before getting right next to his friend. “You can’t keep getting shit faced every time something in your life goes wrong, Arno.” “Can’t you shut up?!” “NO I WON’T.” Arno shrinked back on himself. “I know that you were in love with Élise, she is the reason why you do everything. However, she was my friend too, and let me tell you that her lover being unable to function would have been the last thing she would have wanted.” “Because Mirabeau would have wanted to see his surrogate son become apathetic to everything, sure.” “You know what snapped me out? Learning that Élise died. If I can help you deal with your lost, then I will. I know how hard losing someone important can be, old friend.”

“He has a point.” Everyone one turned toward Agape. “I only talked to Élise briefly, but something tells me that she would not have wanted this for you, Arno. I mean, look at you!” The gypsy gestured to Arno. “You wake up, you eat, you get drunk, you throw up, you fall asleep, and repeat. You need to snap out of it!” “The gypsy and green boy are right, Arno. I’ve already seen you in a lamentable state, but you succeeded with getting back on your feet the first time. What stops you now?”

“...” 

“Arno?” 

“...” 

“Please, answer us.” 

“...” 

“Old friend?” 

“...”

“Are you okay?”

Silence. Then a sob. And then another sob. It goes on until Arno crumble on himself, bawling. Agape is the first to catch him, then Thomas, and Edgard helps them settle down Arno. And they let Arno cry, until he fall asleep again, his heart less heavy now that he knows he has one, or three, shoulders to cry on.

I am so sorry for the sappy ending. So, here are the definitions.

Excusez moi? = Excuse me?

Pas maintenant = Not now

J’ai dit = I said

Lebensmüde = Life tired

Backpfeifengesicht = Face that should be slapped (I fucking love german)

Weltschemerz = Depression

Scheißkopf = Shithead

Mistsück = Bastard

Calmez vous, messieurs = Calm down, gentlemen

Pour vous servir = At your service

Connard = Asshole

Crétin = Idiot

Alouette is a french folklore song for children. And seriously. I’ve made a research. They were seriously boys half-naked that pretended to be freezing even if we were in summer. They were called orphelins (orphans). And I totally made up the story about the mummy.

[yvetteslounge]

By : Yvette Larsson

Mihaela Popa World Travel Bug

  You are the founder of World Travel Bug. Please tell us how it all started and I would like to know more : are you a full-time traveler or based somewhere ?

At the end of 2014 I left my corporate finance job in Brussels and moved back to Romania, after 11 years in Belgium. My initial idea was to take some kind of sabbatical ( the only exception being that I wasn’t going to return to my job after that, but instead get another job in Romania) and travel for a bit.

I am in love with Asia and luckily I have traveled a lot for business there but always to the same countries (mainly India, China, Japan, Singapore). However, I was dying to see the rest. So, in January 2015 I went on a 5 months trip throughout SE Asia and Japan (my favourite country in the world).

I started my blog as a result of that trip and mostly at the persistence of my friends. I had so many stories to tell and so many pictures to show that in the end it really made sense to put them all in a blog. That’s how http://www.worldtravelbug.com was born, in August 2015.

Since I returned from my trip I based myself in Bucharest, where I  used to live before I moved to Belgium.

What made you want to participate in the Experience Bucharest event ?

First of all, having lived outside of Romania for so long, I am now able to see my own country partially with the eyes of an outsider. And I do see many things that I have not noticed before. On top of that, I was away during a period when Romania and Bucharest have developed a lot. I left in 2004, when Romania was not yet in the EU and I came back to a completely different country and city.

When I found the new Bucharest, I simply started falling back in love with my city and I realized that it can easily compete with so many other European capitals now.

We finally had a renovated “old” city center, plenty of stylish restaurants and bars, amazing coffee shops and not to mention all the summer gardens.  Plus, there is always something happening in this city. It is so alive and colorful that it is a pity not to “show it off” to the rest of the world. And being a blogger myself, I also know many people in the travel world so it was a no brainer to be part of this and invite them over.

What were your biggest take -aways from the event ? What were the most valuable learnings ?

This event proved to me one more time that we should never underestimate the power of social media. We were expecting “a big bang” out of this project but not as big as it was. Everybody was so thrilled with the whole experience and had only very positive things to say. And they all want to come back! As it was our first event of this kind and it was put together only by volunteers with hardly any experience, you can imagine that there is a whole list of learnings :-). But I guess the most important one is : concentrate on sponsors first!

How would you experience Bucharest from all five – or six- senses  ?

I think this is what we managed to do with our project in fact. We had such a wide range of experiences that I can say that people really managed to experience it in a complete way. We wanted to show people “our Bucharest”, the way we see it and experience it. And that certainly involves all 5 (or six ) senses. And if you ask me, my favorite one at the moment I write this, is the sense of smell.

Have you smelled Bucharest while the linden trees are in bloom?

There is nothing like it!

After you try and get lost on some small streets just following this smell you come across a hidden cafe that invites you in immediately. If you are a coffee drinker, Bucharest is heaven. We have so many coffee shops here that it is impossible to walk 50m without bumping into one. And they take their coffee seriosuly. Just try Origo cafe and you will see what I mean.

It is the same with restaurants and cafes. I have a list with my favorites and with ones I want to go to. Both list keep on growing. I go out a lot and yet I do not manage to keep up with all the restaurant openings. And luckily you really find all the cuisines here. Some of my favorites are : Yaki, Simbio, Alt Shift, Alouette, E3 by Entourage, Kanpai, Zen sushi, Kunnai , La Mama . And these are just quickly off the top of my head! But I think I will stop here and just let you discover the rest yourselves 😉

What are the places in Bucharest  that you would take foreign friends  to ? Why these places ?

I really like going out so I would probably take them to a lot of bars and restaurants. But also to parks and gardens. Bucharest is a very green city and maybe you would not get to immediately realise that as a “standard” tourist.

The largest park of the city, Herastrau is also home to some of the nicest bars and restaurants. A personal favorite there is Biutiful by the lake, which I think even won the best design award somwehere ( don’t remeber exactly). But then you also have the “classics”: Isoletta and Casa di David, which are some of the oldest ones there and still very popular.

There are so many places that I like that it is impossible to least even 10% here. You just need to come and try for yourselves. But one of my favourite things to doing Bucharet is to go to jazz concerts in small gardens and tea houses. That is my “bohemian Bucharest”.

I have even become friends with some of the performers as I have been “stalking” them everywhere. It is something that I missed a lot in Belgium. Places like Artea, La un ceai, Serendipity, Infinitea, Gradina Floreasca are just a few of my favorites.

What is the essence of Romanian traditions ?

Oh!! This is a tough one. I wouldn’t even know where to start. But what I can say is that they all revolve around family, religion and folklore. Take for example “doina”. I don’t even know how to explain this is  English. You just have to hear it to know what I mean. You feel the “doina”. One thing that I have noticed lately is that there is an increasing interest in the younger generation for our old traditions.  One example is the “ia” , the traditional Romanian blouse.

More and more ladies started wearing them. And yes ,there might be a fashion too , but people are actually interested in the traditional ones and are very proud of such unique heritage. The folklore starts making its appearance more and more in our modern lives, from clothes, to accessories to music.

I have participated to quite a few events lately that somehow managed to incorporate ” hora”, a traditional Romanian dance, and there were so many young people joining in and actually enjoying it.  And in fact this last point makes me think of one general characteristic of our traditions: bring people together and have a good time. I know many peoples like to party but I think Romanians are able to do it on another level 🙂

How would you describe Romanian hospitality ?

Overwhelming! Really! I know all hosts are trying to be nice to their guests, but Romanians….oh my! They need to give you EVERYTHING they have best! And ALL the food! And this is not just for foreigners. This is what with do amongst ourselves too. When somebody enters your home they will be treated like a king/queen! So… warning for everybody who is planning a visit here: go on a diet before and be ready to be treated royally!

Tell me why you are so passionate about traveling and photography !

I was dreaming about traveling since I was a child. But in communist Romania that was not an easy thing to do. I traveled a bit before moving to Belgium but the real heavy travel started there. However once I started, I could not stop. It was like a snowball effect. The more I traveled, the more I wanted to travel. Then I started reading travel books and I was dying to get to know the cultures that I was reading about. I am always trying to read about a culture before I go there for the first time as  feel I can absorb the whole experience a lot better. And photography simply came with it. The world is such a beautiful place that you simply want to freeze every moment in every corner. So when I got more and more into photography, I started studying, taking courses and buying a lot of photography books and  here I am, a photographer 🙂

How shall we continue to use social media in a smart way to brand Bucharest and rebrand Romania ? Please advice the readers !

We need to work together! Yes, we each have our own blog/vlog/magazine/instagram etc, but when it comes to Bucharest and Romania, we are all ONE TEAM. And we need to share each other’s stuff.

We need to keep the momentum going and create that snowball effect. We are many and we are passionate about this, so I am sure we can do it. You rarely see a bunch of people so passionate about their city and country as we are.

Anything else you wish to add ?

I want to thank you for the opportunity to talk about this and I hope that together we can bring Bucharest and Romania on top of people’s bucket lists, where they belong.

You can connect with Mihaela Popa here :

Blog: www.worldtravelbug.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/worldtravel.bug/

FB: https://www.facebook.com/worldtravelbug/

Mihaela Popa is falling in love with her own country. By : Yvette Larsson Mihaela Popa World Travel Bug You are the founder of World Travel Bug.

[noegrets]

omg, you are right. I learned how to sing both Frère Jacques and Alouette when I was around four years old.

In the case of Frère Jacques, I did at least also learn a translated version of the song, and we would alternate singing in mangled-French and the English version. So, in theory, I could know at least what I was attempting to sing. Although, yes, I'd sing that third line as just a mash of random syllables that would probably make a French-speaking person cry.

But I just now learned that the English version of the song that I was taught doesn't mean the same thing as the original French????!??

Are you sleeping, are you sleeping Brother John, Brother John, Morning bells are ringing! Morning bells are ringing! Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong.

So I thought this monk guy is a really heavy sleeper, sleeping right through the morning bells, even as they Ding Dang Dong. No! In French, he's the monk responsible for ringing the bells! We're singing the song telling him he overslept and he needs to get his butt moving and we are commanding him to go ring the bells now because he's running late!!!

Why was I taught a translation that doesn't even keep the meaning??

Then, next, Alouette, I learned nothing about what it means, but I can still very confidently sing:

Alouette Jaunty Alouette Alouette Jaunty Blue Moray Jaunty Blue Moray Moray Jaunty Blue Moray Moray Alloway? ...Alloway! Ah! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Needless to say, this is all completely wrong. And I had no idea that was supposedly singing about tearing apart a poor bird bit by bit. I can kinda see why nobody taught us what we were singing, but then, what was the point of this exercise? I didn't learn what the French words meant, and I didn't even learn how to pronounce them correctly?

I guess I just learned how to make French-speaking people cry.