coca-colonial - Tumblr blog

[coca-colonial]

To whom it may concern; @fallsekings

It has come to my attention that you will, upon circumstance of a medical board conference to take place on the second weekend, you will be residing in the vicinity of Manhattan and its surrounding areas.

The need is felt to issue unto yourself a warning, for the aforementioned region of New York City is territorially run by a being hemoglobically inclined, as it has come to my knowledge that you, yourself are. Hunting in this area is strictly forbidden and shall be enforced without mercy. The exact method of this enforcement shall be left to your imagination.

Best Regards,

Daniel A. King.

The letter is delivered with the rest of that days normal run of mail, and would otherwise be unsuspicious if it weren’t for the fact that it was sealed with wax bearing a crown as its print and folded to have the letter itself as its envelope. This is intended to signify that the author of the letter was by far not young in age as a backup to its seriousness.

[coca-colonial]

independencestate‌:

“Really?” Joseph’s interest spiked. He couldn’t imagine a provincial man ever being raised to such status, not when they were barely considered to be British at all. “I do believe your’re correct there. Plenty of men are landed, I myself would appreciate to once again have a small acreage outside of the city. But, there are hardly any one might consider the gentry, let alone a Lord.” 

Joseph looked across the open room, empty except for the two of them and the seating. “And how would you know about that?” He asked, curious but cautious. “Though I suspect that as it led me directly to you, that it is reciprocated?” He sighed and shifted in his seat, then stood up. “My guess then, is that is why you’re here? Not to be a parliamentary representative, but because the Masons know that … whatever you are is also whatever I am?” Joseph was rubbing at the back of his neck, dislodged some of his hair from it’s neat braid.

He placed his hands on his hips, bowed his head for a moment in thought. “I do believe it would be far more productive for the colonies to have our representatives over there in parliament.” Looking up again he held out a hand to placate in case his comment had been insulting. “Not, of course, that I don’t appreciate and welcome your visit here.” A small wave of his hand, trying to put together words. “Forgive me I am normally far more eloquent. What….what are we then?”

“Once again?” He raised a brow, intrigued by the implication that such acreage was once in his possession, but was no longer. This would certainly be something Daniel would have to look into.

“Indeed. The ‘whatever’ you and I both are, we are not unique beings. There are others like us, more than a few of us. I, like you, am far older than I look, Mr. Wood.” He adjusted his stance slightly so that he could hold his posture in a much more satisfying manner. Not anything intimidating, just to keep himself a bit more dignified in how he was holding himself.

“It would do little good for a colonial representative to live his life in England. I’ve returned to this side of the Atlantic to keep myself informed on quality of life. It has been a very long time since I last left London. We - you and I, that is - are not human. We are Representatives, though of a different caliber than a political representative. I am New York, and more than merely a representative of. My life, health, liberty and holdings reflect the wealth and prosperity of the colony I represent.”

[coca-colonial]

Peer into my muse's memories

❤️- A happy memory that makes them smile

💙- A sad memory that makes them cry

💛- A memory that makes them feel angry

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty

💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad

💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely

❣- A memory that leaves them laughing

💕- A memory about their significant other

💞- A memory about their children

💓- A memory about their friends

💗- A memory about a good deed they did

💖- A memory that made them feel special

💝- A memory that made them feel loved

💘- A memory that gets their heart pounding

💟- Wildcard!!!

[coca-colonial]

Early 1780 - A dispatch arrived. It contained the names of all Continental officers and soldiers returned in an exchange a month prior, as well as those British and Hessian. At the bottom of the page were those deserters of the crown who had been captured, and the resulting punishments meted out. Halfway through that secondary list was a familiar former Lieutenant - punishment, hanging.

✰ ☆ ★ — That’s the problem with befriending mortal men. They were vastly interesting - they grew so fast compared to Daniel’s kind. He could see as they grew and changed, could actively watch as starry eyed children became men of great valor, women of grand courage, or any number of wonderous possibilities, all of them making up who he, himself would grow to be over a much, much longer period of time.

The problem here - Theodore was… not one of his own. He knew that now. He had felt himself in years prior upon the execution of various traitors to the crown. Nathan Hale, Isaac Hayne, John McClelland, they had a particular pain that accompanied their deaths. Nothing that can be described in the terms of what a human might feel - just the same as when in the presence of another Representative, there is an alien sensation that Daniel knew. Just a generic pain that accompanied the death of a citizen, a supporter, one who believes in his existence and will fight til their death to protect them. 

But this one - those damn letters. Theodore Groves, Lieutenant of the British Navy. Daniel did not feel that same pain with his loss. Daniel was no longer a part of the British Army, the British Empire. He knew in the back of his mind that he no longer belonged to George Sinclair in anything but name, and with it left from him the ability to find, to sense, to feel Theodore’s presence within his people. 

That loyalist friend of his, his cherished and dearest friend of any he had ever known, the pain associated with learning of his death, that was purely human. For the longest time, all he could do was stare at the words, that one name. Any other in his vision were blurred. He hardly noticed that the blurring was not from the grief necessarily, but from the saline of tears threatening to fall upon the parchment. With shaky breath, he closed his eyes hard before turning away from his desk, leaning on the window and stared instead over the yard before him. Perhaps he had been in the wrong this entire time. Seeking reconciliation and forgiveness from the monarchy would do nothing but hurt him more, hurt his people.

The people who were no longer property of the British Crown.

Then and there, he knew he had no choice, none that would be better for himself of his people. His only option to cease this madness they call a war would be to devote himself to it, personally denounce the hold the monarchy had over him, and proceed to accept that he would be on his own. While mortals age and grow quickly, and these immortal beings they call Nations, Representatives, Curators or any other term one could think of, while it took them many decades to grow even a little bit, sometimes it happened in the blink of an eye.

Daniel was going to wear a coat of blue and white the next time he stepped foot onto a battlefield.

@toodamnloyal

[coca-colonial]

@independencestate

Joseph. Why. That's dangerous.

Those are strips of aluminum cut from actual Coke cans. Found in Pennsylvania.

[coca-colonial]

olddominionstate‌:

In the Virginian’s mind, Daniel was a figure untouchable, to be feared, and to hide from. It was the fear of his brother murdering him that kept the state of Virginia under control, a bitter hatred of the crimes committed during the Civil War that drove him to want to kill the elder. But like he’d promised, John-Robert had since supported Daniel on the international stage, until he’d then run away. The younger rep had felt hollowed out and misused to the point of no longer able to carry out his duties, so he had carved himself out further to be human, and to hide. 

When the golden ring was flashed his way the younger brother’s eyes widened. He sat forward in the chair and reached to hold Daniel’s wrist. “When’d this happen?” He looked up, “You ran off to Monaco to marry?” Disbelief, and disaproval, colored his tone. “That’s what you’ve been doing? All this time?” 

JR’s mouth pulled downward into a frown. He glared at the ring and at his brother. He hadn’t been able to marry, his love had been destroyed during their war. Fire danced in the Virginian’s eyes when he stood and accepted the glass. “I certainly hope you aren’t looking to lecture me about any neglected duties, considering your fine vacation.” Bitterness cut the words off. JR maintained eye contact while he quickly tossed back the contents of his glass. Though his hands momentarily shook, no punch or other strike came flying for Daniel. Just a grip around the glass that turned knuckles white, and the sparks that danced around in the Virginian’s eyes. 

Precisely as Daniel wanted it to be - he was a force to be reckoned with and no one dared challenge him for the most part. He was left to his own devices in most cases and could proceed in his daily life with minimal interference from others. It was part of why he hid himself away in New York, why he had once had places like Calbrondt he could run away to and keep himself from being found. 

“I ran off to oversee the marriage of our Grace Kelly to Prince Ranier of Monaco. I just so happened to hit it off with Monaco herself.” It wasn’t a lie at all - that first night, they did get along splendidly. It was months into the matrimony that they began to collide... on too many facets. 

“It’s hardly a vacation, and this is no time for a lecture. I came home to relax and not think about work for a few days.” A bit of fire burned in his eyes, a silent warning that staying calm would be a better course of action for the Virginian. 

[coca-colonial]

olddominionstate‌:

Every time that John-Robert put distance between himself and his brothers, he wanted one of them to close it again. Bradley was the only one to ever do so, but it was with Daniel that he needed the most healing. It was unfortunate that the Virginian no longer understood how to tend and grow healthy relationships, but while human, he was learning. A quick look was cast the elder brother’s way. 

“Away?” He snorted a laugh. “You’re never with anyone. What are you getting away from?” JR’s drawl was more relaxed than he had been around Daniel since early on in their relationship. He picked up the bottle and helped himself to a long drink, tipped his head back and drained a good portion while standing across from Daniel. “Wine,” The Virginian declared, “Champagne, those are good for celebrations. Whiskey? That’s for getting drunk.” The bottle was tipped in a quick salute. “You can’t argue with me on that Old Man, I know a lot about getting drunk.” 

Of course, being human, the recovery was much slower. A quick pang, a minuscule widening of that empty part where the ‘more’ and preternatural part of him had been carved out - reps were not meant to remove that from themselves. Quickly JR massaged that spot and then flopped on the sofa, still with the stolen bottle. “So what’re you running away from?”

The more time he spent with John-Robert, the more and more it became clear that the two had become incredibly estranged over the past two centuries. A civil war tended to put quite a rift between brothers, but Dan had grown yet further away.

“Monaco. I’ve been in Monte Carlo for two years.” He toned flatly, casually moving to grab the bottle shortly after it was set back down. That stuff was expensive and if J.R. wished to drink, he had better options for getting alcohol into the system without spending several grand to do so. Without explaining himself, he turned to put the bottle away and find something stronger with less of a price tag.

“Bold of you to assume I’m never with anyone, considering.” No attempt was made to hide the band of gold on his left hand as he poured a pair of glasses from the second bottle and offered one to his brother. 

[coca-colonial]

[coca-colonial]

olddominionstate‌:

“Yes Brad!” Was wheezed after another precious breath. Once he was dropped, JR doubled over and braved himself on the small table near the entrance. His face was a little pale, and he new bruises were forming on his ribs. “Everyone’s favorite banjo picker. You sent him back from Korea to hunt me down.” A glare, heated but without the usual promise of death or bodily injury within it. Only strong annoyance. “The little shit spent three months tracking me down to the Carolinas. …I was restoring her house.”

Able to breathe again he straightened up, met Daniel’s reddened eyes and flushed face. “Don’t say it like that.” John-Robert’s expression closed off, defensive, his body tight like one braced for a blow to fall. His back was still to the elevator. “He already tried to drag me back there, I didn’t let him and I won’t let you.” A quick huff of air and the Virginian stomped further into the apartment, and swiftly changed the subject. “And what’re you celebrating then?” He waved at the bottle.

Space was what the Virginian needed now, he was sure. He’d just hurt the man, after all. Give him room to breathe and exist, and for Daniel, a chance to process this new information. Bradley had apparently taken the liberty of not telling the whole truth and trying to meddle with the flow of events. Again. The boy did try to keep peace in their ragtag family, but it hardly ever went as the Tennesseean planned.

Best to avoid the topic of Jeanne - Daniel did not hesitate to allow the change of topic, though it was not quite as welcome as he had hoped. “Hardly a celebration. I needed some time... away.” From work. From Europe. From the Russian eminence and overbearing wife. Monte Carlo was too loud and fast and bright for him to find some quiet there, and hardly a corner of it felt safe enough to unwind properly. For the moment, his hands shifted, enough to make sure the ring-bearing hand wasn’t quite visible.

“I’ve only been back on American soil for one day.” Despite having left Korean nearly two years prior. “Call it celebrating being home again.”

[coca-colonial]

olddominionstate‌:

Riding the creaky, screaming elevator up fifty floors was horrible. How his elder brother managed to suffer that thing was beyond the Virginian. He stood in the corner with hands over his ears, listening to his own heartbeat and the blood rushing around. It was a good feeling, being human, not having his sensors overloading to be in such proximity to Daniel, no extreme desire to murder his brother or fear that he may explode on his siblings at any moment. Most interesting to John-Robert, was the quietness in his mind, an emotional aquitity he hadn’t had before.

Still, he knew that at the top of the elevator was a very real risk of being shot or otherwise killed. He and Daniel certainly were not on good terms, hadn’t been for a long time. The elder was even one of the reasons that he’d run away in the first place. When the doors finally ground open, the knife was the first thing that JR saw. Immediately his senses went into overload and he was prepared to have to fight the other man, now far stronger and faster than a mere human could ever hope to keep up with - and instead of any of that, he was drug forward into a bone-crushing hug.

“Dan?” He choked out, “Ribs, Daniel ribs!” He tried to shove the elder brother away, “Daniel let go of me or I won’t be alive for long!” JR was trying to leverage his arms, the scent of alcohol didn’t bother him, he himself was known to be a heavy drinker, but the need to breath certainly did! “Why all the surprise anyway you’re the one who sent Bradley after me you Old Man now get off!”

The elevator was indeed a loud one, but Daniel preferred it that way. In an age where even one’s neighbours could hardly be trusted, a loud noise to alert him to any incoming guests was highly appreciated.  Perhaps one day he could jump the cost and acquire a more quiet operation for the lift, but that time was far from today.

It took a moment to register what was being said, what was happening - first he was rather caught in the implication - “Bradley sent for you?” Confusion. Utter confusion. It had only been a year since- “”Bradley told me you were dead-”

The embrace hadn’t ended yet. He wasn’t about to let go, but the noise J.R. had made clicked something. He hadn’t felt the Virginian approach. He was hurting the man. With enough speed he nearly dropped his brother, Daniel took several steps back, confused. “You’re...?”

“You’re human?”

[coca-colonial]

Generally, visitors to Daniel’s home were well announced and tended to very rarely take him by surprise. For someone to manage to come by on one of his trips stateside - a much needed escape from the pressures residing in Monte Carlo had been placing on him, but to have his quiet evening interrupted by the elevator’s machinery was more than a light start.

Whether it was lucky or not that Daniel was already into his third glass of whiskey was yet to be seen. At the very least, it meant his reaction time was dulled and senses a bit awry. Getting to his feet was easy enough, only a minor bit of sway to his walk as he approached the door, knife in hand ready to defend himself. Who else but a Red would be intruding his very, very private home?

But that was an attack for another day, for as soon as eye contact with his visitor was made paranoid fear dropped into something that was a mix of anger and relief. 

“Alive-”

The southerner was immediately drug into an embrace, the knife dropped to the floor and John-Robert crushed into an alcohol-scented hug. As far as Daniel had known, courtesy of Mr. Walker-Rhodes, was that J.R. had passed away due to an unknown mix of American imperialisation and post-war stressors that deemed a Military Representative no longer completely necessary. 

@coca-colonial

Aside from the many wars that he had taken part in, John-Robert hadn’t left his precious south for decades. Of course, within the last two or three years, he hand’t returned to Virginia either. Somehow, the former Rep knew that if he set foot back in his native state, his quiet human existence would be over. So, when restlessness and an urge to travel overtook him, the Virginian found himself racing one of his modified cars up to New York.

Passing close to the border between North and South and on a Westward leading highway was a painful order to turn around, to travel home instead. Ignoring it was difficult and JR had to grit his teeth until he was far enough into Daniel’s territory to ignore such things. He was determined to remain human, and eventually after a good long life (or a wildly short one) to die human. 

So, to continue running away, he went north. To visit a family member that the normal JR, the unstable and sometimes violent JR, would just as soon shoot as speak to. After the hellish practice of finding New York parking the elevator was soon chiming to warn the much older man that he had a visitor.

[coca-colonial]

independencestate‌:

Most days, Joseph was punctual to everything. He arrived early enough to straighten his notes and documents, and that was that. This particular day he had finished early and so had nothing better to do than to walk across the small city of Philadelphia to the masonic lodge. A discomfort had begun just on the edges of his senses a short time ago and he he drew closer to his destination, the sensation grew. It become something closer to awareness, could be pinpointed in his chest, or perhaps in his diaphragm, like a tug drawing him around the building to a particular entrance. 

Joseph obeyed it and led like on a taught string he entered through the doorway, immediately looking for the source. The room was empty, nearly empty, except for a lone man who sat against the wall near the exit. “How did you do that.” Was the first words out of the lawyer’s mouth. He looked the man up and down, his gait, his clothes, his voice, a thick brogue. “Joseph Wood.” The seemingly-young man answered while shaking the hand. “It’s not often for our humble meeting to have such esteemed visitors. Certainly not Lords or Ladies. These are the colonies, you know, the most prestigious individuals here are governors.” 

Like the other man, Joseph too was inspecting. There was an eerie sense of familiarity about the stranger. Not quite looking at a reflection, but perhaps what an artist might come up with were someone attempting to describe him? Combined with the strange pangs in his chest it made for a….unsettling meeting.  What brings you all the way across here?”

Daniel had a habit of arriving early to nearly everything he attended - To arrive early lent the opportunity to observe others as they arrived, to take mental notes and have an idea of the people he was to deal with.

“I’m no stranger to colonial lands. Even born in New York, quite some time ago.” His smile was polite and welcoming, quite happy to know that he was far from the only one among the colonists who had his particular... livelihood.  “My particular situation is a rather unique one. As far as I am aware, I am the only titled man in America, though other traits of mine appear to be less than perfectly unique. Tell me, Mr. Wood, how did you feel upon approaching the building?”

His gaze is searching, looking for the exact key that made this otherwise stranger seem so familiar, much more than another Representative should have offered him. 

“Upon order from His Majesty the King, I am to reside in my birth colony, and report back as necessary to the proceedings of the Americas. A foot of parliament on the ground in the colonies, as one might say.”

[coca-colonial]

“There is a practical explanation for nearly everything in this world, Theodore.” He chided gently, a soft smile offered. Though, he almost immediately turned his head to the side to think. Practicality could hardly explain them, and an attempt to do so would be quite futile. What could explain the particular set of strangeness these two had in common, or the differences between their less than mortal lots?

His train of thought was interrupted, however, by his friend’s distraction. Rain had long since become something Daniel effectively tuned out expect for the pensive moments he simply wished to watch the droplets race each other across the glass. Ah-

“Shall I darken it?”

coca-colonial‌:

“The elevator, Theo. It does make noise when someone is coming up. I just happened to have already been making tea. It was a matter of pouring a second cup.” 

“I liked it better thinking you were psychic.” Still, he enjoyed time with Daniel more than almost anything else. When the first raindrop struck the glass ceiling, Theo looked up at it.

[coca-colonial]

To be a lawyer in this day and age in Boston was a headache and a half, the majority of it caused by one particular circle of people. Violations of martial law were well more than a daily occurrence, even hourly on some days. It was high time Daniel had a bit of a break from it all and settled somewhere for an evening.

An invitation was sent, to join him for an evening of drinks and dinner. He had some business to discuss, but primarily he sought to enjoy the company of a man he respected well enough- and an offer to make over the Madeira wine that had been causing a few issues lately.

The letter he had sent held only minor reference to the proposition he planned to offer, merely an implication that an offer was to be made. Its details would be discussed in time. For the moment, he simply needed to greet and welcome the guest to his rented dwelling.

@ofcongress

[coca-colonial]

This was not Daniel’s usual place of presiding. He was far from home and rather tired, having recently become known to the Society despite hardly making a name of himself among colonial reputations - his practice of law for some years without an extra wrinkle creasing his brow had become known, and with it, an invitation to attend a meeting.

Philadelphia was hardly New York - Smaller. Quieter, if not by much, but his travels had shown him places much larger than either and now he was finding a place more out of the way to observe. He wasn’t quite sure what it was he was getting into, but considering the importance implied in the letter he had received, it would be something he was not going to have in his best interest to miss.

It was perhaps ten minutes into his making himself comfortable that a particular ache in his chest and sudden need to pay attention told him that he was not alone - a feeling he had missed ever since his return to the Colonies. Not quite as strong as Noel’s or Nicholas’, but unmistakably one of his own kind. What he was entirely unprepared for, however, was the face that greeted him looked eerily similar to his own. The same structure in the nose and chin, and very similar eyes. He was on his feet without hesitation and crossing the room to offer his hand.

“Daniel Fitzroy, Lord of Calbrondt-”

@independencestate

[coca-colonial]

Anyone got questions about Dan while I'm at work?

[coca-colonial]

Now all of the landscape, it’s just an empty place. Acres of longing, mountains of tenderness. ‘Cause she’s just like the weather.