ayda--demir

[ayda--demir]

Ayda Demir attends Fight Club 2025 Date: Friday April 4, 2025 Escorted by: Herself

[ayda--demir]

Ayda still wasn't sure how she felt about working alongside Melissa Lin when it came to her political career. It was something she was keeping to herself and making sure she didn't get in too deep that she couldn't pull herself out. The woman had grown up around these games, and she would like to think, that over time, she understood how to play them.

Her meeting went longer than she intended, knowing that she was meeting Melissa to talk business, quickly excusing herself once more, making her way over to arranged spot.

It didn't surprise her when she found Ben standing there. "I know." A faint smile dances on her lips. "My meeting went longer than intended." She held up manila envelope. "I think she'll like what I have here."

FOR: OPEN TO ALL. WHEN: March, 2025. WHERE: Some side street in Belgravia.

Uncomfortable wasn't the word.

Even the soles of his expensive shoes felt like barefeet upon cement on a hot day. It was that itch to be anywhere else: and yet, there he stood. Out in the fucking open, likely with a target on his back. It's the way his gaze tracks every shadow, every potential threat that might be lurking around some unsuspecting corner. His fists clench, unclench and then repeat: the telling sign matched alongside the scowl etched deep into his forehead. Benjamin wanted to be anywhere else.

Play it cool, bro -- the mantra he'd repeated since his arrival.

One street away was Melissa's car. Waiting.

The gravel behind him crunched, footsteps approaching and his back instantly stiffened. As he slow turned around to face the person arriving. Benjamin was to be Melissa's messanger once again. To see if the coast was clear before she stepped foot outside the comfort of her private hired Lexus. Jarrad, her new driver staying close by.

Setting his jaw, he raised his gaze to meet the new arrival.

Bout' time, was what he wanted to say. Instead, he kept that to himself. "you know s"She doesn't like to be kept waiting -- she's on edge now." he was trying to stay casual, but even his tone remained strained.

[ayda--demir]

[ayda--demir]

It appeared that most in her life were taking a different turn in the journey's and she would be there to help in any form she could. This time it was being there to help Kerem move into his new flat. She could understand the need for starting a new chapter, but at the same time, it was hard to swallow that this is what became of them. Slowly it felt like their group continued to get smaller, leaving them vulnerable to those that wished nothing more than to see their demise.

When it came to moving day, Ayda was there, navigating and working the angles to get everything up into the new place. She never understood why the halls had to be so small. It felt almost impossible at times, but with a little patience, and creativity, they managed to do so.

Whilst he went to take a shower, she took out the groceries she brought over with her, unpacking the kitchen to the point where she could start to cook for them. It was a meal they had grown up with as kids, one both of their parents would make. A time where life had no responsibilities and they could be kids. Ayda wanted him to have his first night in his new apartment to have a core memory, one that brought back nostalgic in a happy way.

Ayda was lost in her own world, moving around with ease and she pulled out the dish from the oven, placing it down on the hot plates. She heard his foot steps, taking a glance over her shoulder, a smile on her lips. "I thought it might be nicer to stay in." Over the last while she felt more inclined to remain indoors with the mess their borough seemed to be, and a certain woman's voice rang in her ears.

"I even have a bottle of wine to go with dinner."

FOR: @ayda--demir EVENT: MISTLETOE 2024. WHERE: Kerem's new apartment. WHEN: 19th of December, 2024.

His body ached.

Kerem could feel it with every step he took from the shower to the bedroom, where he'd dressed as slowly as possible. While the house was thankfully complete, it'd taken the better part of two hours just to get the new couch through the fucking door. "Whoever designed such a small door frame should get a brain scan," he grumbled to Ayda during their fourth "Pivot" joke from Friends.

Moving house was never fun: but what'd felt like an impossible task had been made a lot easier when Ayda had showed up to help. For a tiny woman, she was fucking strong. Taking a moment to look around his new bedroom, a chance to start fresh — or at least, that was what he was telling himself.

Not that a lot of enemies had known that address. Rutherford, French...and more.

Towel-drying his hair, he dressed in a blue button-up shirt and slacks. He'd promised Ayda they'd have dinner, and after all that she'd done, it was the least he owed her. However, as his hand found the door handle to leave the bedroom, he came to a stop and sniffed.

Whatever that was...smelled divine.

It took no time for him to find himself in the kitchen. Stopping at the door, Ayda, so consumed in creating whatever had drawn him here like a moth to a flame, didn't notice him there: so he took a second to watch her. Tom Misch playing on the stereo, bringing a smile to his lips. Gone were those tense shoulders he sported on her way too often these days, or the furrow that had beholden to her brow. Pushing from the door frame, he walked to her side.

Ayda was his longest, dearest friend...and all he ever wished for was her happiness.

"...not that I'm complaining, but I thought I was takin' you out for dinner?"

[ayda--demir]

"Yes," she had been drinking, but there was more to it and though she had tried to steer away from consuming alcohol. Life had its moments of being suffocating that a small drink relaxed her. "I may have had LED." If she remembered correctly, that is what Olivier called it.

"I'm so hot Gid," she half whines, nose wrinkling. She may have been standing there drenched in lake water, in the freezing cold, but she could not feel it.

The second he brought up Hasan, her head shakes in disappointment. Ayda loved her brother deeply, but sometimes she worried about his decisions. "Can we please not talk about him? Honestly, I have no idea what possessed him to dress the way he did. He should want people to take him seriously." The last thing she wanted was to have others look at him poorly. "He would not murder you." Clearly missing that he was referring to what she was wearing standing in front of him.

"Oh, there are my clothes." A shocked tone to her voice, not that she seemed to care that they could have been missing. "Do I have to put them on?"

[ayda--demir]

where: his flat who: @benjaminvox

What happened prior to the event and at the event, should have stayed there, leave it to poor choices and move on. Yet, Ayda found herself standing in front of his flat door, staring at the wood, wondering if turning around to leave would be the best option. Nothing good would ever come of this.

Her mind screamed on thing and her hand raised, fingers closing, where she rapped on the door, announcing her presence, though, he knew she was there, letting her into the building.

Her body twisted, examining the painting on the wall, taking in the beauty, only to quickly return to her position when the door opened. An innocent smile seeps on her lips.

"Hi." What was there for them to talk about, they clearly had nothing in common. "Can I come in?"

[ayda--demir]

"Yes," she had been drinking, but there was more to it and though she had tried to steer away from consuming alcohol. Life had its moments of being suffocating that a small drink relaxed her. "I may have had LED." If she remembered correctly, that is what Olivier called it.

"I'm so hot Gid," she half whines, nose wrinkling. She may have been standing there drenched in lake water, in the freezing cold, but she could not feel it.

The second he brought up Hasan, her head shakes in disappointment. Ayda loved her brother deeply, but sometimes she worried about his decisions. "Can we please not talk about him? Honestly, I have no idea what possessed him to dress the way he did. He should want people to take him seriously." The last thing she wanted was to have others look at him poorly. "He would not murder you." Clearly missing that he was referring to what she was wearing standing in front of him.

"Oh, there are my clothes." A shocked tone to her voice, not that she seemed to care that they could have been missing. "Do I have to put them on?"

Gideon's relieved when the Turk denies any head injury, but the neurosurgeon's mind immediately jumps down the list of differentials to alcohol or drugs as an alternative explanation for her current presentation. "Don't take this wrong way, Ayda, but have you been drinking tonight?" He remembers she's been trying to teetotal, but for most people sobriety is a perpetual battle, not a one-and-done. And there's a hazy, faraway element to her voice, a stupefied look to her that makes it impossible not to wonder.

"No judgment, yea?... It's a pretty chaotic environment and—"

But his words cut off abruptly when Ayda asks whether there's a problem, and why he can't look. Gideon cracks an eye open. Sure enough, she's still standing there, dripping wet in just her underclothes. "Have you seen your brother's choice of costume, by any chance? He already looks the part of Joker, the last thing I need is for him to jump out of the woods, see us together while you're in your..." He waves a hand, gesturing to her bra and panties, before quickly diverting his gaze. "... And then murder me on the spot."

Since she isn't making any moves towards her clothes, Gideon takes the lead, walking briskly towards the discarded pile. "Here, let me help." He offers, picking up her shirt and shaking it out as though to make it look inviting. "Surely, you must be freezing."

[ayda--demir]

12 Days of Christmas 2024: Ayda Demir

[ayda--demir]

Ayda knew what she was getting into when it came to the type of conversations she was having with Melissa Lin. Growing up in the family she did, the in's and out's of a gang organisation, the Turk was privy of certain information others would not be. "It would not be the first time I was called a disappointment," the words rolled off her tongue with a bit of sarcasm.

When she decided to step away from that side of her life, there would be decisions made that would not be given to her, and reasons to those said decisions. Part of her did not want to know, because that would paint an even bigger target on her back. "That is not my world." Ever since the Rutherfords held ground in their borough they continued to take from them. "I do not see how, but I will take your warning."

Melissa's smile, preening in her spot as her head slowly pulled back: observing. She could've been likened to a Chesire cat as her mouth spread into an unsettling smile There was a fight in her, something she'd been yet to see in Ayda...but her timing had been far too outspoken for the likes of a woman who liked when her pets could hold their tongue. "Not smart, my dear." a tut breaking from her lips. "You disappoint me, child." it was in typical Melissa fashion, that she'd not blown into a rage -- but that steely cold she often used with Benjamin.

She listened, digested...and then took a slow sip of her drink as if mulling over what'd been said. "Your friend, Kerem, was given a chance to prove himself and when he sold me bad, and knowingly false information he set the precedent for what came to fruition the past couple of years..." and Melissa had acted how she'd needed to, to dig her heels in. "his recent decisions implicate you, if you're not careful. Consider this my warning to you."

[ayda--demir]

Ayda was perplexed on why Gideon would even question if she had slipped and banged her head. For the first time in months, there was no weight weighing her down and she for once could live in the moment. "I did not," she calls out at him.

It was a shame he would not join her, Gideon held a lot of weight on his shoulders that having a brief moment where nothing else mattered by this small bubble of weightlessness could benefit them both. Her brows pinch together when he tells her to wait, stopping in her tracks. "You wanted me out, evet?" Confusion written in her tone.

The woman glances over her shoulders, trying to figure out what cause the sudden language. "Is there a problem?" It did not register to her that standing in front of him half naked could have been the problem.

"Why can't you look?" His question puzzled her and she remained rooted in her spot, not bothered by the cool air, in all actuality, it was nice against her warm skin. "Is there something wrong?" She turns around, noting that it was the two of them standing there.

Slender fingers comb through her wet locks. "Have you been dancing at all?"

'When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.'

It's one of the first rules about diagnostic probability taught in med school; to consider common causes for a presentation before jumping to the rare pathologies. And yet for a zoologist, hoofbeats always signal zebras, so when Ayda starts talking about waves singing to her, the neurologist thinks — "Ayda, did you slip and bang your head??"

But instead of answering, Ayda invites him to join her in the water. "Not on your life," he barks out a laugh. It seems to echo in the forest that surrounds them. "But I'll help you out if you—" Before he's even gotten the words out, the Turkish woman is rising out of the water, spraying him with cold droplets from the river stream. "Wait just a mi—"

The words die on his tongue as she rises and he realizes she's in nothing but her bra and panties, soaking wet in front of him. "Goddamnit, Ayda."

Gideon squeezes his eyes shut, even though it's a fraction too late, and even though the woman doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. Worst of all, he can't help her find her clothes or get into them when he's frozen in awkward discretion before her.

'Gideon, you are floating and your head, it looks so big.'

"Thanks, Demir. Real helpful right now." The surgeon grouses, although there's no real bite to it. He's half concerned, half amused, and altogether blind. "Not the first person to call a neurosurgeon bigheaded, so I'll let it slide. Tell me when I can look."

[ayda--demir]

The idea of freezing, that was absurd, her skin felt on fire, and floating in the ice lake water eased that burning sensation. "I am floating." She stated the obvious.

"The waves are singing to me. They have such beautiful song." She calls out to Gideon, allowing the song to finish before she shifts her body to an upright position, treading water.

"You should join me."

The hand reaching out to her, felt like it was reaching her soul and if she refused, the goddess would not grace her with her presence once more.

The Turk swims forward, reaching for his hand. "You're words, they look so small." Ayda paid no attention to what was said, more transfixed on the way the words floated in the air before fading into nothing. She steps out, with his help, smiling up at him.

"Gideon, you are floating and your head, it looks so big." She giggles.

He's startled to make out a shape on the lake, that even from a distance looks vaguely human. Squinting doesn't help bring it into focus given the darkness of a late evening, so the surgeon's only option is to stride towards it, and hope to any God listening that it isn't a human being, facedown in the water.

Relief sinks into his bones when it moves, rippling the water around it — but surprise is quick to takeover when he realizes it's... "Ayda??" The Rutherford blurts out, stunned. "What are you doing in there?" Gideon notices the pile of clothes upon approaching.

Bloody hell.

"Ayda, you're going to freeze to death. What on earth inspired you?" He crouches by the side of the lake, sticks out a hand. "Can you still feel your legs? If you need a help getting out, I promise I'll close my eyes."

[ayda--demir]

"My goddess, please forgive me." The sudden need to have the one standing in front of her to alleviate the hardship that plagued her. "I will do no such thing again."

It was a few seconds that passed, and a twist of colours that seemed to throb behind the blonde, that she was able to paint a better picture.

"Amélie?" Her head glances in all directions, still remaining on her knees in front of her friend. "Did you see where she went?" The goddess of course. "Do you think she forgave me?" Please say she did.

"I feel great." The worry that laced her features seconds ago, gone, replaced with a bright smile. "I feel like I'm floating. I feel......happy."

Amélie had been on yet another wander, trying to find a group she could insert herself into, or a friendly face: they'd been hard to come by. She knew loneliness, but this was truly the meaning of being in a room and invisible. She was thankful for people like Isla, Ayda...and that nice girl, what was her name...ah, Nevra. That was it. Such a beautiful one, at that. Instead of sulking in the tent, or crying on the hiking trail tonight (because that hadn't been the smartest decision she'd ever made) — she'd decided to try to venture out.

For how long, she wasn't quite sure.

Sometime later, alone...still. From the corner of her eye, she saw an approaching Ayda, enough to tilt the corners of her mouth enough...until the woman dropped to her knees. Confusion struck her first. A second later...worry? What? Crisps...

What on earth was she going on about?

"Ayda...are...are you well?"

[ayda--demir]

The intention of asking to use his shower hid her conflicting thoughts. There was something about Benjamin Vox that appealed to her and yet, she couldn't put her finger on what exactly. The stammer caught her off guard, for a man who held such a confidence that it seemed out of character for him.

Ayda should have declined his offer of joining him in the shower. There were many things she should have done, a hand reaching back to shut the door behind her, locking it.

Silence filled the space between them, dropping her bag off to the side and starting to undress. Warm chocolate hues linger on his and that ease, it still filled her. She padded softly in his direction, opening the door to step into the spray of warm water, standing in front of him.

"Hi." Her palms come to rest on his wet chest.

The fear of being walked in on in the shower had never been ignited as much as it did when it was somewhere unfamiliar...if he hadn't seen who it was, it would've been worse...far. It was spotting Ayda that eased the crease between his brow, as he stopped trying to hide his package...what? she'd seen it all already, anyway. And let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, the wash of warm water enough to keep him in the present.

"Y-Yeah." Benjamin confirmed with a stammer, for a guy who was rather confident, he was doing a piss-poor job right now as his brow finally raised, that shock wearing off as he let out a well-timed cough. There was one of two ways how the rest of the day could go.

"You can use the shower." he added, "get in?" said with such nonchalance. As if it was a complete turn of events.

[ayda--demir]

"I know he did." She stated, only able to take so much when it came to what was said about Kerem. "I also understand why he did it. The conditions you set on us, the way we were treated, he wanted better for his people. Our people. I may not be part of it anymore, not in that way, but that is still my home and we are constantly looked down upon. One can only be pushed so far." She was an example of it, but her means was in another form. "We just chose two different ways to do that." Ayda didn't mean to speak to Melissa that way, but considering what may come between the pair, it was best to find her voice and boundaries. "My safety?" In this world, many did not seem to notice her, or if they did, it was to demean her, not to harm her. "And you think they'll come after me because of my friendship with him?"

"And your oldest friend just stood up with a huge red target on his back, and said...shoot here." Melissa said, the sigh on her lips wasn't heavy as she turned to face Ayda fully. "I didn't want to do this here, but it's more for your saftey." Because I need you alive for something, though she kept that tid bit of information to herself of course. "Although he can protect you, collateral damage is very much a thing in our world...and it'd be a sad waste of talent."

[ayda--demir]

"How does it sound wrong?" Clearly he was not able to think at her capacity and she would have to prove him wrong. The first thought that came to mind, she went with, any filter she may have had was non-existent. Ayda leans up on her tip toes and presses her lips to his, lingering for a second before returning both feet flat on the ground. Her tongue darts across her lower lip. "See, delicious. Sour watermelon." Her tone states factually, not understanding why he couldn't grasp what she was trying to convey.

"Wait. Are you a god?" She steps back, eyes languidly roaming over his body. "It would make sense." Bright lights formed behind him and he had a golden aura about him.

"Thank you," she couldn't remember what she was thanking him for, but it felt appropriate. "That sounds really long and complicated. I will just call it subtitles."

Those specific words caught her off guard, movement stopping and she looked up at him. "Why do you admire me? Should I be admired?" The harder she tried to think why he would, her mind came blank. All she could focus on was the sounds and colours vibrating around her.

"With you beside me, Kerem. I can handle anything." And she meant that, more than her drug state would let her, he was her rock. "Less talking and more dancing." She reaches for his hands, body moving to the beat of the music, lifting their arms up in the air.

"That sounds so wrong in so many ways," he was howling, trying not to knock her as he swayed from the feeling taking over him: giddy. "So I'm huge, and I taste delicious...you make me sound like a god, Ayda," he was teasing, they'd been friends for a long time -- his longest friend, in fact. And these days, she held the title of best friend, especially after Berat's passing.

In so many ways, he should've been pissed with Olivier. Furious, actually. But he also wanted to cherish this moment, seeing Ayda letting her hair down, for once, not worrying about everyone else...and enjoying her life. "Thank you, so do you..." Instead, he dropped it, and opted to take the softer approach and enjoy it himself. "That's called Sound-colour synaesthesia," not that he thought she'd understand right now.

Although he'd considered trying things like that...he couldn't now. Weed, sure. He fucking needed that just to decompress...but after Berat, he wasn't afraid to admit...he was afraid. "I admire you, y'know."

Afraid he might like it too much.

"And you feel okay? Nothing you can't handle?" Because if it was too much, he was dropping everything else. He had too. If not for him, then for Berat.

[ayda--demir]

Ayda was learning to slowly indulge with a few drinks. It was learning to develop a healthy relationship with it, that a few drinks allowed her body to relax and she could enjoy herself. Life had continuously thrown curve balls at her, that learning who her partner was for the night two nights, that she could let down her wall and have fun.

Olivier was a perfect gentleman the first night, even though, if he would have hinted at it, she would have been more than willing to get reacquainted with each other in that manner. Who know what the night would bring, but if the opportunity was presented, she wouldn't say no.

The first drink had hit her, eyes narrowing at him playfully at his rendition of the song, knowing that he was teasing her. "I should make you play again." She wouldn't, ready to get the night started.

"I'm drinking the drink you made for me?" Her brows knit together in confusion, pointing to where she got it. "That was my drink, right?" She went to finish it off.

"Why wouldn't I be feeling okay?"

Olivier couldn't complain about his time at the Camp Out thus far, although he always mantained an edge at anything where they lumped everyone together without celluar devices for a weekend — too him, it screamed disaster waiting to happen...but he could only go by his own choices when he'd handed it over. Beside that niggle, he was thoroughly enjoying himself, as he found a new chord sequence that he hadn't yet explored, a grin finding his features as he plucked it out.

Ayda being his partner had aided towards the time he was having. If not for the stellar company, and the fact she didn't want to murder him...though, nothing had happened, as of yet...in his drug-fuelled, drunken haze and the fact, that he couldn't deny she was attractive...he wasn't sure he'd be able to say no.

Even if one person didn't come to mind...blonde hair, cutting smile. But he banished what couldn't be, and heard the voice calling from the tent, with a grin. He was waiting for the LSD to kick in, honestly. And he had a whole other thirty minutes before he began to feel the effects, he was sure.

"One drink," Olivier confirmed, begining to hum a tune. "Promise." he finished with, between whatever this earworm he was creating and seeing her appear, as he flashed that same grin he'd been wearing for the past hour. When Ayda asked after his singing, he purposefully, and abnoxiously turned to hear and began playing his own rendition of The Greatest Song in the World by Jack Black, unable to stop the laughter throughout the attempt: and giving up a quater of the way in.

"Happy?" He teased, placing the guitar down as he pushed to stand. "Yeah we can go...." he stopped, only long enough to look at her drink. "Ayda...what're you drinking?" it was with new panic he looked to find his own drink.

No, no, no, no, fucking no.

"Are..you — feeling okay?"

[ayda--demir]

"Then why feed into the depiction they have of us?" This was something she would not be able to understand. She had her own image to keep clean and the last thing she needed was for this to show up to slander against her campaign. Another item added to her check list to do when this event was over.

"Perhaps it's time to talk to father then." Maybe he could help him, at least from their old connections. Ayda takes a deep breath. "Hasan, I need you to remember, how you present yourself, being my brother, could come back on me." There was no need to elaborate, he knew what she meant. "This is important to me."

"I plan to have fun." At least with her tent-mate she could relax some. Ayda had fun when she was with Olivier. "Don't become a mockery. You are better than that."

"It's a humorous costume Ayda it's supposed to look like a joke." He waited a beat before holding up a hand. "Yes, I know what you mean and what you're worried about and honestly if you don't think that all sides view us as a joke already then you haven't been paying attention, I might as well be in on it." He shook his head. "I've tried to get close to the various sides give a good impression, and end up in Kerem's shadow thin that it is. So I'm doing things for myself. If all I can do is survive I'm going to have some fun along the way. Make sure at the end of everything it was worth it." He stared at her for what felt like a long time before speaking again. "I won't tell you how to run your life, but you deserve to have some fun too."