driftvoid

[driftvoid]

OOC. Instead of writing, I am watching K-Pop De.mon Hu.nters...

[driftvoid]

A hint of a smile tugged on the corners of his lips and was allowed to reside there. STUBBORN, she seemed, just like her mother – just like himself, too. A trait inherited from both parents, shaping her decision made now and in the future; whatever future lay ahead of her. He thought about it briefly and wondered whether Moira would be allowed to marry for love, or if it had to be for political reasons. Believing to know Katherine still well enough, he assumed it wouldn’t be the latter as it had broken her heart and surely, she wouldn’t do the same to her own daughter. THEIR DAUGHTER.

“If you were to visit the summer castle bordering my lands, I suppose no one would have any objections to you visiting the coastline. And I would be obliged to host you for a dinner. It would be rude of me, not to.” Could she meet his family then, too, or was this too much, too early? Also, would his mother not see the resemblance? She had an eye for things and had always possessed it; asking him questions about Katherine all these years, knowing how his heart ached and yearned. He did not fear his mother’s disapproval, but he feared that one of his siblings could, potentially, be a leak of information, dripping knowledge to those, who stood less favourable to the two kingdoms.

No, it should just be a small visit. A dinner. Something local perhaps? – Keeping his thoughts on a decision like this, kept his heart from leaping out of his chest at the question the princess had asked next. He had been so sure, when he had been riding through the storm, with the ring hidden in his coat, but now, without the ring to hold onto, he wondered, whether he hadn’t been under a feverish mania, even before the bandits had robbed and left him. COULD he even marry Katherine now? There seemed to be a million reasons she could list, that spoke against it; her soft voice of reason, against which he knew no argument.

“I wanted to marry her, when we were both young. I proposed the summer before your mother was married.” No answer yet and no lie. He wouldn’t be able to lie anyway. Never had been good telling falsehood, and exhaustion provided no help. A soft sigh escaped him, before he raised his eyes back to meet Moira’s. “ – And I was on my way to propose to her once more. Having seen her at the ball – having her see me, I… I realised how much of a fool I had been, believing she had given up her love for me, or that I could ever forget mine for her. BUT I do not think it is as easy as this, any more. With my lands belonging to a different kingdom, and… I do not have an heir for my lands. My sisters have all married and my brother… He was never meant to become a duke. A gentle soul…” A small shake of his head followed, painting stars into his vision.

He leaned back against the pillows; resting his head against the headboard of the regal bed, he had been placed in.

“I wanted children, but I was not married for love and…” A shake of his head. He knew it was another of his foolish notions. Love, after all, was a luxury, which could not be acquired with any riches, not with all the power of these kingdoms; it was a luxury, often reserved for those, who had neither. Again, he raised his gaze to meet Moira’s and a smile tugged on his lips again. “I knew not how NOT to accept your presence. These are not the circumstances, I would have asked for, but I have a child with the woman I love. I could not ask for more.”

her expression turns soft, a glimmer of a smile. her mother has been alone for a long time and moira has never questioned it, but hearing edward speak tells her that it's for a reason; they're still in love, the both of them. it's like a fairytale, she thinks. the two of them.

she knows little of the duke but already she can see the softness with which he speaks of her mother and knows without question he still loves her. and she likely still loves him. the pair of them robbed from any sort of future by duty. it's a cold feeling then that settles in her belly - for she knows the same fate might very well befall her.

"i do wish. and i should think my mother won't have an objection. even still, i'm old enough to make my own decisions in that regard." though her future will always be governed by the one who holds the throne - her mother, her brother; moira makes her own decisions when she can because it is the few moments of freedom she can arrange for herself.

being a princess royal means her path is laid out before her already and she cannot deviate. perhaps her mother might be more lenient in regards to any marriage prospects now that edward has returned, the love between them already so strong, forged in a time before moira had barely been a vague thought.

dark eyes flicker back to edward - as if she might study him, trying to find what traits she might have inherited from him. instinctively she feels a pull she can't explain and perhaps that's why her mother has not introduced them properly before now. as if moira might somehow know without saying. in the end, the deduction had been easy. though she still laments her earlier argument. she'll have to apologize. eventually.

"are you going to marry my mother?" she asks innocently, suddenly. "you'd be able to, now. she's a widow. the council have asked that she consider a consort - it might be nice, to be able to navigate a royal wedding. and for you and i to know each other as father and daughter. properly." because as of that moment, she cannot call him such in public. it would ruin them all.

"did - you want children? i mean . . . i don't expect you to accept my presence immediately but . . . i should like to know you properly. as my father."

[driftvoid]

There was something odd to having Christofer back in the house, he had to admit it, even if this statement wasn’t meant negatively. Just a neutral observation, the same way, he could see the unease on the Colonel’s face – partially because it was odd to be back here, surely, but partially because he was facing an important, high-society event, that put his somewhat in the limelight. Oh, he remembered the feeling of attending his first event like this; a similar party, that had made him feel like a fish out of water. He still did. While Kate seemed to navigate these events with a certain calm ease as though it was in her bones and nothing could shake them, he had always felt as though he was walking around with a big neon arrow pointing at him, telling everyone he did not belong. – This probably was just another sign of HOW different Kate and he had grown up.

“It’s your first formal party like this, isn’t it?” Still the smile rested on his lips, giving him a slightly amused expression, before he shook his head. “ – It’s nothing to worry about, trust me. Just do what everyone else is doing, and you’ll blend in.” While he couldn’t remember every file of every person they employed, it was a little more than an educated guess this time. The Colonel’s file was impressive, but mentions of undercover work like this were rare.

“ – I could also offer you some calming tea for your nerves?” As soon as he had entered the kitchen, he had opened one of the cupboards to take out a mug; his gaze only briefly wandering to the guest and then the door connecting the living room and the kitchen as the greyhounds had switched from barking to a pleading cry. “I’ll be dog-sitting tonight, with Moira out, too.” Not the reason why he wasn’t taking Christofer’s place, because that had been a stern look of Kate, reminding him that he was retired, while she suspected she would need someone still active. Her choice had been made, and he had been left without arguments.

Waiting whether Christofer would change his mind in favour of a cup of calming tea, he put a tin with biscuits on the kitchen table, nodding towards one of the chairs, inviting the Colonel to sit down.

“ – good for your nerves, too, and they never serve proper food at these events. That’s why we had an early dinner. – Should’ve known you’d come early to go over the plans again…”

Christofer remembers the dogs. He hasn't been here in a while ( hasn't really had a need to, not since he and Gordy broke up. It's not like he gets invited over for Sunday dinners with UNIT's Commander-in-Chief these days ), but he remembers Lady and Earl and their demand for attention. Their barks ring out over the sounds of the doorbell's melody, then become muffled, preceding the silhouette in the glass of the front door. The Colonel has to smile despite his discomfort as Ed opens the door, knowing that the pair of them would rather trade places tonight.

"Thank you," he nods respectfully as he sidesteps Ed to enter into the hallway, the dogs still barking riotously in their makeshift prison. "I thought early might mean we could go over the plan for the evening one last time," he confessed, looking uncharacteristically apprehensive for a brief second. Maybe it's the suit's effect or the unfamiliarity of a formal party ( his brief flirtation with clubbing as a teen hasn't prepared him in the least for this ), but the Colonel is feeling well out of his depth.

Arriving late will definitely give them the advantage; they'll be able to mingle much better, their targets already present and in play. Being early will make them stand out, make them conspicuous at best as they tried to work their mission.

He follows Ed's gesture and enters the kitchen, settled a little by the simple observation that nothing about it has changed since he was here last, hip-checking Gordy and exchanging secretive little smiles as they set the table between them. Better days, he thinks. "Coffee would be great, thank you."

[driftvoid]

#mythictold -- you know, i was hoping that at least you would be normal. sorry to disappoint. is there anything else? is there a health plan? no, but i can promise you the adventure of many, many lifetimes. shall we begin? indie female multimuse. canon & oc. crossover & multiverse. written by brandy.

[driftvoid]

...UNTIL SHE HAD NOT RETURNED. He remembered the summer so well, and the feeling of his heart shattering into pieces, when he had heard why Katherine had not returned to spend the summer with him. Marriage. Someone her mother had chosen, because of good connections and a political advancement, it MIGHT bring their kingdom. – He had always suspected that Katherine’s mother had done it all out of spite; to show her daughter, she was the one who would choose and this duke’s son, her daughter had spent so much time with, would never be enough. It had never mattered, that he had proposed to Katherine the previous summer and that her answer had been an enthusiastic YES. It had never mattered, because he had been so foolish to believe, he had any power to make this choice.

For a moment, he had closed his eyes again, feeling the exhaustion clinging deep to his bones. But he did not want to fall back asleep. There were more important matters now, than his tiredness and, indeed, he had always been a stubborn man; fighting anything that threw himself at him, with the same calm and steadfastness as the rocky cliffs of his lands, the rough sea. Just as these cliffs, he wouldn’t be able to continue like this forever. Slowly the sea shaped his lands and his experiences, him as a man.

“I know she loves me.” He broke his silence again, with his voice only raised slightly above a whisper. “So many years spent together, we both loved each other, and in all these years we spent apart, I never stopped either. I never knew how I should be able to stop. – She was married and so was I, but Katherine never let go of my heart.” Nor had he let go of hers. He knew Katherine loved him still. Yet, there would be a long conversation waiting for them, about the past, the present and the future laying ahead of them. His vision for it, had been clear in the riches stolen from him. The ring he had carried on his person was gone, just as anything he had been carrying, and his poor horse, he had just acquired.

The smile on his lips was soft, when it returned, despite the dark cloud forming above his thoughts. “ – they grow along the seaside. The salt from the sea, and the sand mixed with the soil, seems to be what they prefer.” He raised his eyes this time, to meet the princess’s, and despite knowing how much they looked like Katherine’s, it still took his breath away for a moment. A blink of an eye, and the smile grew slightly. “ – I used to pick them for her, when I was young. Counted the days until she would return and then had a bouquet of them for her… They aren’t rare in lands, but because this kingdom is landlocked…” Not a sentence he had to finish. Self-explanatory.

– So, in the end, he just nodded at the question he was asked. “If that’s what you wish… And your mother allows it…”

he's as stubborn as her mother, certainly - the way he clearly sits up further despite his body protesting reminds her much of the queen. her lips twitch briefly in vague amusement but she decides not to comment on it, merely settles herself more comfortably in the chair. she's grateful he's on the mend - mostly because she isn't quite sure how to process the emotions of having a father that she knows would be impossible if he were suddenly taken from her again.

she listens, the fondness for which he speaks of her mother in his voice. an adoration to his tone that makes her heart warm. her mother has been alone for some time; it's nice to know there are ones who truly love her the way she and gordy do.

"i regret to be robbed of the chance to know you properly all these years. it sounds like my mother loves you very much." moira says quietly, words carefully chosen. she doesn't know yet what relationship she and edward will be afforded, and the same between him and her mother. she can't hate kate for keeping them in the dark, no matter what her flash temper tells her. she was doing what she thought was right - the decision a queen had to make to protect her legacy, her reputation, her reign. the way he says her mother's name - katherine - she's never heard anyone address her mother that way. it's always a title, a moniker, something befitting of status. never truly just katherine.

when nervous, moira tends to twist the delicate silver necklace in her fingers - and it's what she does now, thumb tracing the flower engraving.

"she gave me this. told me the flowers it depicted were rare. only found in one place, though she never specified. i thought she was just keeping them safe from being trod upon or picked." moira murmurs. "i'm willing to educate a guess they only grow on your estate, don't they? she's told me all along, i suppose . . . but i've never had chance to fit the pieces together." her hands drop into her lap, fiddling with the silk of her dress.

"will you let me come and see them some day? the flowers?"

[driftvoid]

OOC. Sometimes I write the most poetic stuff in my replies and sometimes I struggle to put three words together. There's no middle ground.

[driftvoid]

Even after the war, he hadn’t felt quite as exhausted as he did now. Perhaps it had been, because he had still been a younger man then, or it was simply because he had felt a different exhaustion then, and the work his duchy still provided, had offered a distraction, in which he had lost himself for hours, without needing food, water or rest. His pain and anger had been of a nature, that had needed an outlet, while now both, pain and anger, just gnawed on him, like the disease had done before. Parts of him knew, that in the end he would feel better and that his bruises would fade, his bones mend, and even the emotional pandemonium would be sorted in some way or another. Optimism always lived in his heart, but – it would take so much longer this time, and it would be an uneven path, which had to be treated carefully for reasons beyond just the people directly involved.

The kingdom’s future could be at stake. The kingdom he served as well as Katherine’s. If news spread, that the princess was not the child of the queen’s late husband…

He closed his eyes nearly instinctively, when the cold cloth touched his brow again, as it had done countless times in the last few days, with a tenderness in said action, that had convinced his heart, that despite being this person the war had turned him into, Katherine, his Kat, still loved him. Not once she had left his side for long, as not once he had woken up with his gone – but now.

Slowly, he sat up further; using the pillows as a way to keep sitting upright, despite the lack of strength. He wanted to sit for this conversation, if he already had not the strength to stand. Was this the way they should speak about the so-long unspoken bond, they had never known off? Perhaps not, but he was glad the princess had not waited to sneak back into his chambers to talk about, what was laying heavy on her heart. HE WAS HER FATHER. And they both had never known.

He sighed quietly as his eyes avoided meeting Moira’s, in which he could see nothing but her mother. Finally, his gaze got attracted by a flash of silver around the princess’s neck, and a hint of a smile crawled back onto his features. “I gave your mother this necklace as a way to remember me, and the summers we spent together.” He started slowly; his voice phrasing the voice with a certain fear of saying the wrong thing. “ – but there is nothing you have to apologise for. Nothing your mother has to apologise for, either. Even if – I wish she had told me.” It was the realisation that it was not anger plaguing him, but regrets and the feeling of FAILURE. He had abandoned her, when she had needed him and the detail that he had not known, changed nothing about the irrational feeling burning inside his heart.

“I’ve loved your mother ever since these summers. Your grandfather – on your mother’s side, I should specify now, shouldn’t I? – liked to spend the summers in the old summer castle bordering my land. My father and him, liked to discuss trades, due to the port… I don’t even remember when I met Katherine. She was just there like the summer’s sun. And we spent all summer, every summer together, until…”

she's worried he might sit up fully, grateful he doesn't - she fears he'd hurt himself further. still, she dips the cloth into the bowl of water and rings it out, swiping it across his brow; while his fever has broken, she doesn't want an excuse for it to come back. usually her mother's physician is well versed at his craft; moira frequently studies under him out of her own desire to learn, her own curiosity and determination to be more useful than a girl who can simply embroider or other delicate crafts that most of her gender tend to do. she is a princess - she is meant to be an asset, a help to her kingdom.

though she wonders how much of that is true now - because she knows now she is not true born royal. not like gordon, who would someday rule after her mother's departure. moira is only a spare - which will be called into question now if her true parentage were to ever be found. the best she can hope is her mother and the duke might get married (judging by the fear she'd seen in her mother's eyes at his injuries, the risk of losing him, she thinks they might just do it). at least then it would not be strange for her to address edward as father. how strange it sounds in her head.

she follows his gaze, to the chair, and decides to sit. she's here now, and he's awake. no reason to try and squirrel away back to the library.

"i thought you might have." and part of her finds it difficult to understand his own ignorance, that he hadn't known - but the timelines she's made herself familiar with are neat and tidy, just as her mother had likely intended when she'd found out. she'd been angry during their conversation, their argument, that she had been denied edward's company because of the social situations at hand. the dangers involved. furious that katherine had never told him, told her, not given any inkling beyond a necklace. now that her temper had calmed she understands it had been for protection, for all of them.

"i'm sorry." she adds, quieter. perhaps a bit awkwardly. she's been taught to navigate any conversation, any setting - but this is not territory covered in her tutoring. she feels miles out of depth. "i'm afraid i should have waited but i was . . . overwhelmed with emotion." she does her best to keep her voice neutral when all at once she feels like nothing more than a little girl again. untethered. lost in the hedge maze of the castle gardens - figuratively, of course (she knows that maze like the back of her hand, after all).

"my mother never told me." moira's voice feels small as she sets the cloth back beside the bowl. "we - she never gave any indications that you two were that close."

[driftvoid]

@lorestold [NICK] SAID: it's just a flesh wound. it'll heal.

“I know – I spoke to the doctor who operated on you.” He had probably seen more people lying in a hospital bed, than most, but it still always felt like a punch to his stomach. Even though he knew Nick would be fine, he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if – if he had not been fine; if the medical team had just arrived one moment too late. HE would be telling Helen and the kids then; making it his personal duty, because he knew the family best.

Of course, he knew did not have to tell Helen anything, but the thought still linger, just as any visit to a hospital was haunting him, whenever the smell of disinfectant was in the air. All the times he had seen Kate lie in a bed like this, hurt in the line of work to protect the planet. Just as Nick had been hurt this time. Protecting Earth and this planet. Trying his best to communicate with the species they were still fighting against right now. SCIENCE LEADS, but sometimes there was nothing science could do. Just like some humans didn’t want to listen to reason, there were species out there, who didn’t want to listen either. Daleks, Cybermen. And now this new species they didn’t even know the name of yet.

The concern written in lines on his face, wasn’t all just about Nick – part of it was, but he also worried about his wife, as just he worried about the troupes, humanity and the planet. Perhaps being here, rather than in his office, was a somewhat selfish decision, too, but since Nick had been hurt here in London… Well, it only seemed right to be here, too. It would distract both of them; the urge to get out there to join the fight needed to be subdued in both of them. For Nick, because, even though it was just a flesh wound, he needed plenty of rest and recovery time to heal, and for him because he was retired. Most days.

At his own thoughts, he managed a smile, that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but nonetheless grew as he raised his voice to speak to Nick again. “I’m sure you’d rather see your wife’s face than mine after having just woken up from your surgery, but I thought it was better not to contact her right away. She cannot come here right now and… You can explain better, what happened and show that you will be fine to her. I thought, me contacting here would alarm her.”

[driftvoid]

[driftvoid]

We drift on a chartless, resistless sea. DRIFTVOID. A MULTIMUSE.

[driftvoid]

for muses that are getting to know each other

❝ what's your favorite color and why? ❞

❝ can i come with you? ❞

❝ you have a nice smile, has anyone ever told you that before? ❞

❝ how do you take your coffee? ❞

❝ sorry, what was your name again? ❞

❝ it just occurred to me i never asked you what your last name is. ❞

❝ actually we've met before. ❞

❝ i've heard a few things about you. ❞

❝ care to join me? ❞

❝ i'm not really sure why i trust you. ❞

❝ i don't usually talk this much, it just feels easy to say stuff when you're listening. ❞

❝ i know we don't know each other that well but if you wanna talk about it... ❞

❝ could you help me with something? ❞

❝ do you like it here? ❞

❝ are you new around here? ❞

❝ you can ask me anything you want. i promise i'll answer truthfully except the things i feel like lying about. ❞

❝ i don't mean to be too forward, you just seem like you could use a friend right now. ❞

❝ you can come with me. i mean if you don't have anyone waiting for you. ❞

❝ we're friends now. you can ask me for help. ❞

❝ do you like this music? i can change it. ❞

❝ what are your favorite snacks? ❞

❝ really? i wouldn't have guessed that about you. ❞

❝ do you mind if i ask about it? ❞

ACTIONS:

VISIT: for sender to go to receiver's home for the first time

VISITED: for receiver to go to sender's home for the first time

CRYING: for sender to see receiver cry for the first time

CRIED: for receiver to see sender cry for the first time

BEGIN: sender and receiver are on their first date together

TRIP: our muses go on a group trip but end up stuck together, away from the rest of their friends.

SITUATION: our muses are acquainted because one of them is their friend's roommate. muse a shows up when their friend isn't there and ends up hanging out with muse b one on one.

GO: our muses go to a zoo or theme park together and get lost.

INVITE: sender cooks for receiver for the first time

INVITED: receiver cooks for sender for the first time

TOGETHER: our muses spend the night for the first time

TRY: our muses hooked up and are hanging out the next day

COMFORT: sender is going through a break up and receiver offers to cheer them up

COMFORTED: receiver is going through a break up and sender offers to cheer them up

OFFER: sender gives receiver a ride to the airport/picks them up

OFERED: receiver gives sender a ride to the airport/picks them up

AID: sender helps receiver redecorate

AIDING: receiver helps sender redecorate

[driftvoid]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 . ( a collection of dialogue prompts based on varying types of demands &. requests . adjust phrasing as necessary . this prompt WILL likely be updated in the future . )

don't say a word .

don't leave me here .

meet me at our spot tonight .

follow me and stay close .

don't beg , it's pathetic .

can you ( tie / zip ) this for me ?

stop lying to me . tell me what you did .

put that down , you don't know what it ( is / does ) .

get out of my sight .

stop pretending you know what's going on .

find a first-aid kit . quickly !

don't get yourself killed .

leave them to me , just go .

just admit that you love me .

just admit that you hate me .

come here , let me look at you .

( name ) , don't make me do this .

drop your ( weapon ) .

stay here and wait for my signal .

don't just sit there , move .

take this and run , don't let anyone have it .

pretend you're my ( partner / girlfriend / boyfriend ) .

don't look , you'll give us away .

don't say another word .

stop pretending like you care .

go make sure the coast is clear .

take this with you . it's a good luck charm .

don't tell anyone about this .

if anybody asks about today , lie .

stop looking at me like that .

tell me you love me .

just kiss me , already .

keep your eyes on the road .

stop crying and calm down .

come with me . there's so much we could do .

wear the ( dress / tie / item ) i gave you tonight .

show me how you like to be touched .

hold my hand .

kiss me , make it look real .

look at me . how many fingers am i holding up ?

will you marry me ?

just slow down for a minute . what's going on ?

take a deep breath , you need to calm down .

get out of here , ( name ) !

draw your weapon .

go rest . i'm not asking .

take a step back .

give me a straight answer .

be polite to our guests .

look me in the eye and say that again .

put your feelings aside for a moment .

keep close to me .

here , let me see that .

look up at the sky .

get out of here , i don't want to see you right now .

stand up , this isn't over yet .

close your eyes and count to ten .

smile for the camera !

keep your head down .

( name ) , let me past .

listen carefully to what i'm about to say .

don't just stare , come in .

stop laughing , this isn't funny .

take this and hide it .

don't make a sound .

put your hands up .

quit causing problems everywhere you go .

just admit that you don't know what you're doing .

stop right there , i mean it .

don't say that name aloud .

just trust me , okay ?

stop acting so childish .

call the police . now .

tell me you love me , even if it's not real .

take a good hard look .

stop the car , ( name ) .

don't make eye contact .

stay out of trouble .

just do it already , we've waited long enough .

hold me tight , and never let me go .

finish what you started .

tell me what you know .

just stay away from me .

turn around . slowly .

don't be scared .

put it down before somebody gets hurt .

stop pretending , i'm tired of the pretending .

grab me my ( item ) , will you ?

don't make assumptions .

put this over it to stop the bleeding .

get to safety !

wipe that look off your face .

secure the area .

keep an eye on them .

look at yourself in the mirror .

run . run and don't stop .

eat . you haven't touched your food in days .

[driftvoid]

drop this sunflower🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy ! lets spread a little sunshine ☀️

OOC. GRAY! You are the true ray of sunshine, and I am just glad we're friends and writing all our lovely threads, because !!! writing Nick and Ed is just the best thing! They work so well together, and I am so happy you decided to flesh out Nick even more in his UNIT verse since he is just so PERFECT! Your creativity with the development of UNIT North America is really something could be jealous of, and I am grateful to be a part of it! So, long story short, I am dropping this sunflower right back to you because you're amazing!

[driftvoid]

“Your library book – Don’t tell me, you have to return it today, or you’ll get charged…” An amused look on his face and another gentle shake of his head. No, he didn’t necessarily think it was a stupid reason to want to climb back into the tree house, butt it was definitely something that could have waited five minutes until the ladder had been retrieved from the garage. Definitely.

“ – I think your arm might actually be a little weaker. Happens when you were in a cast for a few weeks and can’t use it for much more than rest your head on it. – You don’t remember when I broke my arm, do you? I thought you would, and the masterpiece of a painting you drew on the boring white cast, together with Moira.” A gentle chuckle mixed into his words, despite the fact that he couldn’t help but feel GLAD that Gordy didn’t remember the time he had been in hospital; broken arm, broken leg… and a broken spirit on top of it, that had been gently nursed by his wife and his children, who had come to visit. And then by the knowledge that Rosalie had been born; healthy and with a strong pair of lungs on, that she still liked to show off.

Getting up from the grass, just after he had tousled his son’s hair, he walked towards the old tree, the tree house had been built on. Ages ago now. The kids were really growing up too fast for his liking. “ – I’ll get you your book down, and then we’ll get you inside and wait for your mum to get home. If you’re feeling sick or the pain in your shoulders gets worse, I am taking you to A&E. Or if your mum says, it’s necessary. Deal?” Brows raised in question, as he looked at his son again; then his hand closed around a close, sturdy branch of the tree, and he pulled himself up. – If he was honest, he could understand why Gordy hadn’t waited for the ladder – it was a lot faster THIS way.

"My library book's still up there!" Maybe his father thought that was a stupid reason to attempt to climb back into the treehouse, but to Gordy, it had seemed very important at the time. "I thought it was going to be easy. I've climbed up there thousands of times, but I guess my arm's weaker than it was before..." He probably should've expected that, actually - it's making him feel a little stupid to have not even thought about the effect the cast's had on his muscle as it healed from the last injury. His head's hurting less now that he's sat up, at least - hopefully that's a good sign. There's no double-vision or blurriness or anything that isn't normal ( except maybe some little sparks in the corners of his eyes ), so hopefully that means less worrying.

"I know..." But, y'know, hindsight is a great thing. He hadn't even managed to rescue his library book! Today was just getting worse and worse as time went on.

His Scout's knowledge of first-aid isn't very comprehensive beyond how to administer CPR and put someone onto the recovery position ( although the part about tying a sling might come in useful later ), but Gordy's relatively certain that there's nothing majorly wrong with him right now. Yeah, his arm hurts - but it's not excruciating and he can move his fingers, so... "Can't we just keep an eye on it overnight or something? I don't want to go back to A&E..." The waiting times are ridiculously long and being poked and prodded is just irritating.

[driftvoid]

Quit forceshipping with me, my girls taken, shes with uh, um, Edmund northfence?? 🔫

OOC. I've been replaced?! AGAIN?! Which McGann brother is Edmund portrayed by?

[driftvoid]

He has always been a light sleeper; woken by the smallest thing – the sound of a seagull screaming as it flew past his bedroom window, or footsteps walking past his bedroom’s door. However, the last few days had been different. A heavy, feverish sleep, he had only awoken from a few times, as cups of water had been held to his lips, and a spoonful of a hot, hearty stew, he had hardly wanted to swallow. The illness caused by the rain, the injuries obtained in the fight, and the icy cold, had held him in an iron grip; not wanting to let him go and keeping him on the edge of meeting his maker.

Only about an hour ago, the fever had broken and first signs of recovery had been noticed. Briefly he had been awake, too, blinking at a worried, but familiar face. Oh, how he hated to paint these lines of concern on her features, but how he loved to see her face, first thing when he woke up. Even though, there had been so much unsaid hanging between them. It hadn’t been a good time, and then she had been called away, for something important demanding her attention, that she could not have dealt with from his bedside, where she had resided for hours and days on end.

He must have fallen asleep again. While the fever was gone, the exhaustion still clung to his bones. It would still take a few days until he had made a full recovery, but that was nothing he could mind, after having thought, to have found his end after all. – He woke up, to a face that SHOULD have been more familiar. The resemblance to her mother was the first thing he had noticed, when he had met the young princess not too long ago, but now… Could he see something of himself reflected in her features?

During his fever, he remembered waking up once – not for food and water, but because he had heard something, that had even broken through to him in his state. AN ARGUMENT. Mother and daughter. Words uttered he could not fully recall, but one sentence had lingered and drilled itself into his head. HE IS MY FATHER. He. Him. A simple duke, who had lost his heart to the queen of a different country, when they both had been mere children.

Slowly sitting up, he managed a small smile, even if the world spun wildly for a moment, until his body started getting used to a more upright position again. “ – it broke. Your mother’s physician confirmed it.” No titles; no formalities he should have uttered if any other princess had stood in front of him. But – she was his daughter. A child born from a love, that Katherine, and he had been denied. A child, they once would have wanted, in a life they had not been allowed.

Lowering his gaze, he turned it to the chair Kate had abandoned, before he found the courage to look back at the young princess. “ – I cannot pretend I did not overhear your argument…”

moira & ed | plotted starter | @driftvoid

there's something to be said when one's life is turned upside down - though moira hasn't discovered just what should be said. not yet. she's holed herself up in the deepest part of the royal library for several hours, trying to find solace in their pages even if she doesn't know exactly what she's reading. mostly it's to keep from running into her mother and starting up their earlier argument again. thankfully kate, nor gordy, nor any of the other staff have sought her out on either of their behalf.

not as if kate could tell others why she and moira had fought, protecting the secret she's carried for some years now. moira should be more surprised - but she's always suspected something amiss. she hadn't known her father (no, that's not right, is it? - the late king?) but his portraits and the way her mother spoke of him . . . it hadn't sat right with her. and now so much made sense. the cagey way her mother always skirted details, for starters. the necklace that moira never takes off, inlaid with flowers that only grow on the southgate estate . . . surely there had been more signs, moira had thought little of it at the time . . . .

in seeking further privacy, moira leaves the library - and it's just in time to hear her mother's voice engaged in discussion with one of her council advisors - which means edward is alone. her heart wrenches - is he alright? has he relapsed? who is sitting with him now that kate has broken her vigil? instinct as a hobbiest student of medicine make her change her course - worry for the father she's just found written into her features.

she isn't surprised to see him sleeping when she slips silently into the room, the guard outside letting her pass without issue. he looks almost frail, skin pale - a far cry from the fighter he surely must have been, given the scar he bears, the way others have spoken about him. swallowing back her hesitation (she shouldn't be here), moira creeps carefully toward the basin of water on his bedside, the cool clothe left beside it - and there is a soft creak beneath her foot, a traitorous floorboard that has her breath and every inch of her body freezing at the intrusion of the noise inside the silence of the room. it's too late - he's stirring. she swallows the dryness in the back of her throat.

"i didn't mean to wake you. i was coming to check your fever."

[driftvoid]

For a moment, his gaze rested, again, on the photo Nick had handed him; familiar faces smiling back at him and happiness practically radiating of the paper. Nick was a good father in Ed’s books, and it showed in the way his children and his wife trusted him. Wanting to keep them safe from the things waiting out there in the universe for them, was also just something that made him a good father. Protective. Someone who cared. – And while he still saw them as opposites in some ways, they shared their similarities. He hoped, that he could say from himself, that he was a good, adoptive father to Kate’s children, too, and that he had always been a good son, brother and uncle to his own family. When he was handed his photo back, his eyes lay on the also familiar faces, too. He knew Irene would disagree with the statement, and he still felt a pang of guilt, despite reason telling him, he could never have found the same happiness with Evelyn, that he had found with Kate.

– He caught Nick’s glance as he was folding the photo back up, to let it vanish back in his pocket. “I never mentioned her, did I?” Attempted humour this time, but failed. A gentle shake of his head as a comment to his own, choked chuckle. “Evelyn and I got married when we were only twenty-two. – The divorce was finalised in February 1988. We weren’t even happily married for a year. Things… took a turn after we got married. She accused me of never being around, and perhaps she was right, because I was still very focused on work – I was trying to make enough money to support my family as well as her… It was never enough and while she always wanted more, she started accusing me of…” Again, he shook his head and ended his sentence this way. It was not the time nor the place to discuss his failed marriage, and most days it seemed a lifetime ago, anyway. Irene might always remind him, still holding a grudge, because she still worshipped Evelyn like an older, better sister, but in his daily life, Evelyn no longer played any role. And she had moved on a long time ago, too.

“Looks like, we’re learning a lot about each other today.” More spring to his words again, he managed another, quick smile, that only faded slowly as the conversation turned more serious again.

“ – In my opinion, these men don’t think this far. They barely think about the next generation, not to speak of any that come after. The only thing important for them is the here and now. And while I would often agree, that it is good to focus on the here and now, they never consider the future or the consequences of their actions. For them, solving an alien crisis consists of just shooting everything now and pretending that Earth could handle anything that is thrown at him.” Surely there was some comparison to some species of animal and how they reacted when threatened, but he couldn’t think of it now. The bloody heat. The damn, bleak idea of what the future could look like, if they failed in stopping the remilitarisation and their urge to destroy. How could destruction be the answer to anything? It would make them no better than some of the species they had encountered before; listed by Nick, and somewhat approved with a short nod on his side.

“I cannot see past the irony of it all. We wanted to go to the moon because of human curiosity, but even that was turned into a race. We wanted to know whether there was life out there – and when we received an answer to our questions, we either faced it with aggression or dismissed it as not possible. I remember the signal. I think it was even on the news. Like most children in the 60s and 70s, I was interested in space. Never thought I would end up working against, sometimes with aliens…” There was some irony to it, too, wasn’t there? Lips tugged into a quick smile, before he continued.

His gaze met Nick’s again, after having drifted back to the, now somewhat distant, base camp. ANOTHER NOD followed as a reply to the other’s request. “I’m sure we can arrange this. I don’t doubt that Kate will be on the same plane as Carter, so she’d want anything we find brought back to HQ in London anyway. Helen, and whichever member of her team she trusts the most, are certainly most welcome. She still knows other scientific team well, too. – But I wonder if we will still find something after all these years. Decades. A human body would be nothing but bones by now, but with our lack of any physical form connected to these spacecrafts, we might find nothing, simply because we KNOW NOTHING.” Of course that was nothing new to Nick, but perhaps, so Ed thought, the other wanted to find something. AN ANSWER TO THE MILLION QUESTIONS. Even if a body will bring more questions along with it, too.

And there were more now, too. Raising the binoculars to his eyes, he moved them in the direction Nick was pointing him, too. A hill. Nothing one, who wasn’t investigating an alien spacecraft, would have looked at a second time. Unassuming. Just sand and something dark, that looked like bits of plants, the wind might have carried over at some point, and hadn’t moved, simply because the air was standing out here, nearly as much as it had been in the closed-off tent.

“ – still hoping this is just roadside assistance, here to pick the others up, eh? – It’s either that, or we’re looking at a mothership or… multiple? Could that be?” Binoculars lowered, he turned his attention back to Nick. “It’s impossible to tell without the scans, but we could be looking at more than one ship here. Nevertheless, this IS much bigger than what we’ve been expecting.” In more sense than just one.

it always made nick smile, thinking about how much the photo he carried with him has changed over the years. from four, to seven in the photo. it was always a fight to get everyone smiling at the same time. lots of goofy faces and trying to get Oliver's attention in the two photos he’s been in. his family was his reason for pushing so hard, for having a reason to return when he was put into tough situations. it was always harder when it was both helen and himself caught up in the bad end of the mission because their minds are on the children and needing to make it out to get to them. 

looking at the photo ed handed him, his smile widened. it seemed they were far more alike than nick had realized ⸻ carrying a photo was something he started doing once he adopted ramon. over the years he’s had five different photos he’s exchanged and he was sure that would be the last until the kids were older and it would need an update. at the mention of first wife, nick glances over to ed, he’s never heard him speak of a first wife before ⸻ of course was none of his business to inquire further. though nick couldn’t exactly say anything ot the fact, it took him years before he mentioned being married to helen or having children with her. even on their previous visits to london together with the children, the two of them were always professional. she also didn’t go by boyd in the field, she used her maiden name. 

nick questioned briefly how long he’d remain in the air force ⸻ how long would he be allowed to remain with UNIT before he was forced into retirement. he had a long way to go before then, however the picture and ed’s words made him think, how much larger could his own photo become once the kids were older or adults. it was so far off, it wasn’t something he wanted to consider ⸻ keeping the kids small and innocent for as long as he was able to had become the goal.  

“it makes me wonder,” he says, handing ed back his photo and returning his to it’s place in his pocket. “if they had ever considered what their choices would bring for future generations. not just our children but our children’s children and so on. when you think of events like roswell or the way conspiracy theorist ran with the photo for the battle of los angeles ⸻ that inspired another alien focused movie about aliens coming to earth to attack and enslave the human race. i can’t help but think the remilitarization groups want to keep this fear in the public because it will allow civilians to side in their favor.”

nick did agree with ed, there was so much pushed out there beyond earth’s orbit to try to find some sort of life out there, at some point someone or something will come looking. whether or not that someone or something would be a threat is something they’d have to worry about when that day comes. 

“we want contact so bad but are ready to fire on and shoot down whatever answers the call. we can't reach out to a species capable of intergalactic travel, tell them we come in peace and then shoot them down the moment they break orbit.” rolling the sleeves of his battle dress up, he sighed shaking his head. “do you remember the seti wow! signal?” he questions after a moment. “something did reach out, of course they were quick to dismiss it. it was… thirty or so years after roswell and the small town incident. it could have been a beacon of sorts or they are still trying to contact whoever was flying these ships we keep finding.” 

hand moves to the back of his neck to rub at the tension still building. “i’ve been in enough meetings at the pentagon to agree with you. it’s a one track mind that there is a single entity coming to earth. they are convinced we are not alone in the universe ⸻ but that only goes as far as a single threat. we’ve seen them with our own eyes; daleks, cybermen, the ood. there are far many species out there, even our favorite visitor, the doctor. if we were facing an army of daleks, i’d suggest we shoot first and ask questions later. that’s not what this is, you and i both know that.” 

letting the binoculars down, he takes a moment to observe the base camp below of his scientists and soldiers. “ed,” he says, turning to the older man. “if… we do find someone buried in the old town cemetery, i want it to go with you to the london HQ and i want helen to accompany you. i will discuss it with her later, but we cannot keep them in my custody with the pressure the pentagon is putting on me.” 

the same would go for whatever they found when they opened the doors on the sandcastle. “it’s not that i don’t trust my team ⸻ my wife is their boss ⸻ we just can’t keep them in my chain of command and hope it doesn’t vanish until i can get this mole business figured out with the help of your man carter. i will pair him up to reece and keep them near one another.” binoculars raised once again, he takes in the sandcastle again and the area around it. “this… might be a lot bigger than we thought it was. take a look at the hill south facing just behind the doors. it doesn’t… look as if it was something that was naturalyl occurring like the others around it. there’s no weeds or wild plants growing on it. no rocks. it’s just sand.”