med1rigby - Tumblr blog

[med1rigby]

it's simply fascinating to how the crowd parts like the red sea for them, the pure power and influence someone's position as the minister's aid can have on the world around them - gwendolyn silently thanks the stars above that her own mother doesn't have such influence. humming in agreement, the mediwitch mutters a quiet "you don't know the half of it", her focus on the familiar golden lifts of the ministry and not on the scene being caused behind them by her vulture of a mother. perhaps it was the boldness of her outing attire that drew her mother's ire, or the estrangement reunion in such a public place, or perhaps it was the scars from childhood abuse that lay on show for those known to the yaxley's and of their story. who knows. "he's a capable man, you're right." an agreement if there ever was one. a relieved sigh falls past her lips as she finally steps into the lift, the pressure and pain that began to unsettle the anchor within her was beginning to calm as she felt her escape imminent. leaning her back against the back of the lift, gwendolyn looks to ezekiel with gratitude. "thank you, mr burke. i am indebted for your assistance."

he  weaves  them  through  the  room  easily.  presence  is  enough  that  most  crowds  part  without  being  asked,  allowing  a  quick  escape  without  much  obstacle.  eyes  are  so  focused  on  the  lift  as  it  creeps  closer  that  gwendolyn’s  explanation  almost  fails  on  deaf  ears,  mind  processing  half  a  beat  late.  they  immediately  earn  a  simple  nod  in  response.  ＂  understood.    —    my  mother  is  a  bitch  too.  ＂  there’s  no  love  lost  between  ezekiel    &    his  family,  and  strong  words  are  nothing  he  wouldn’t    (  or  hasn’t  )    said  directly  to  matriarch’s  face.  younger  sibling  is  as  far  as  familial  loyalty  extends.  anyone  else  carrying  the  burke  name,  however,  prove  no  more  than  permanent  inconvenience;  put  upon  this  world  simply  to  test  a  man’s  patience.  ＂  the  minister  can  survive  without  me  for  half  an  hour.  ＂  better  that  than  an  adviser  edging  closer    &    closer  to  forgetting  his  manners.  that’ll  be  the  excuse  provided  at  least,  if  brought  up  later.  they  reach  the  lift  and  hand  abandons  it’s  position  at  the  small  of  the  woman’s  back  with  a  gentle  brush  of  fingers  against  dress  material,  signalling  for  her  to  enter  first  once  golden  grille  parts  in  a  silent  ladies  first.  zeke  might  not  ever  be  accused  of  being  a  true  gentleman,  but  he  had  some  manners  where  it  mattered.  

[med1rigby]

14, 18, 26!

14. what is a core memory from their childhood that they look back on fondly and for comfort?

answered here !!

18. how dusty is their home? spotless, lived-in, dust bunny haven?

whilst gwen spends a lot of time away from her home to work and avoid the loneliness which comes with her home, the time she does spend at home is often keeping it pristine from dust and dirt. it's almost a shrine to a life lost, everything is perfectly placed as it had been ten years prior.

26. have they ever had a near death experience? if so, what was it?

she had many as a child, the abuse she suffered from her nanny/governess and the punishments given to her from her father - a curse here and there, a burn hidden beneath layers of dress wrapping. once she was starved to the point of fainting every few minutes, another time she was subject to the cruciatus curse under the watchful eye of her parents and brother. max saw the scars left behind by this abuse, but gwen never opened up to him about it. she's never accepted what happened to her and probably never will.

[med1rigby]

14, 15, 25

14. what is a core memory from their childhood that they look back on fondly and for comfort?

so, as we know, gwen's childhood was very strict and not great - that's me putting it lightly. however, there is one memory that she looks back on with great fondness and that was when her younger brother first spoke. their parents were entertaining in the dining hall, the governess had left the nursery for a moment to speak to her father - gwen was in need of discipline, of course - and in that silent room of faceless toys, he spoke. "lyn." she was sure she had been dreaming and then he said it again, and again, and again. over and over with a smile on his dumb little face.

15. when was the last time they were held, and truly held, for several minutes? who was it with?

truly held would have to be prior to max and lily's deaths, so well over ten years. after their deaths she had revulsed away from such tender touch, especially if it can't be max holding her in his arms.

25. are they more afraid of being alone with themselves or with others?

whilst gwen craves solitude and isolation, she is afraid of being alone with herself. more so because of her thoughts and the guilt that eats her up.

[med1rigby]

GEMMA CHAN. Harper's Bazaar UK Magazine.

[med1rigby]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓: you look like you just saw a ghost. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: level 8, the atrium 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: closed for oskar catchlove ( @hoggleswart )

"more like a banshee and her pet ghoul." eyes roll as she finds solace away from the centre of the room, slender fingers wrapped around the neck of her champagne flute tightly. it hasn't been long since she arrived in the atrium and she had already spotted the forbidding features of her mother barking orders at her poor-postured father - it was one of the few times in her life that she could confidently say she felt sorry for him. gwen knew the wrath of her mother, the stinging of flesh almost too familiar, even after all of these years. "my parents," offering a tight-lipped smile, gwen sips at her bubbly drink. "haven't seen them since i was eighteen. how unfortunate to meet them now."

[med1rigby]

had it been a mistake to make such a public appearance when she knew very well that her family would be in attendance? perhaps, but there was no way she could turn back time and pull her hand away from the front door of her home, she had to live with her choices. no matter how bad they were. in her turn about the atrium - something second nature to her as a child - she had run into her mother's back, heel catching on the hem of the dark skirt and tearing a small hole into the expanse of fabric. miniscule and hidden from the naked eye, but known between gwendolyn and tilda hua. it was not the reunion she had wanted nor asked for, it was not the pang of memory and sting behind her eyes she needed when that family sharpness and fury burned behind her doppelgänger's eyes - for gwen was the spit of her mother. manicured nails dig into the palms of delicate hands at her sides as she allows zeke to manoeuvre her away from the crowd and towards the lifts, her heels clicking in a quick yet graceful rhythm along the marbled floors. "an unfortunate turn of events has led towards an unwanted reunion with my mother. so yes, rough night." her façade of a smile has long since dropped, "i hope i am not pulling you from your duties."

her  contempt  for  this  evening  is  shared,  albeit  for  different  reasons.  his  own  mother  has  long  since  abandoned  attending  events  like  this.  no  doubt  an  attempt  to  escape  the  whispered  rumours  haunting  the  unsolved  mystery  of  caractacus  burke  and  for  that,  he’s  thankful.  perhaps  a  little  envious,  but  still,  thankful.  no,  his  own  discomfort  stems  instead  from  an  ever  -  existing  hatred  for  large  crowds  &  inane  chatter;  each  conversation  duller  than  the  last  while  fitted  suit  suffocates  compared  to  his  usual  casual  attire.  ezekiel  is  not  a  bad  advisor.  in  fact,  impressively  strategic  mind  combined  with  a  commanding  presence  make  him  well  -  suited  to  stand  in  such  a  role,  cemented  further  by  an  unwavering  loyalty  to  his  minister.  one  that  isn’t  likely  to  have  been  shown  to  another.  however,  talents  only  stretch  so  far  and  patience  wears  thin  through  each  forced  smile.  it  makes  the  possibility  of  escape  gwendolyn  offers  with  her  approach  all  the  more  inviting.  better  to  quit  now  than  risk  frustrations  boiling  over.  the  subtle  nod  of  his  head  is  selfish  rather  than  selfless.  there’s  no  knight  in  shining  armour  to  be  found  here  when  zeke  wants  out  just  as  much  as  she,  but  did  the  details  really  matter  if  the  result  still  gave  them  both  what  they  wanted?  gaze  briefly  drifts  over  her  shoulder  when  named  is  called,  assessing  the  situation  before  his  right  hand  moves  to  settle  against  the  small  of  gwen’s  back,  gently  guiding  them  both  in  the  direction  of  the  lift.  ＂  rough  night?  ＂

[med1rigby]

unfortunately for clementine, she had caught gwendolyn on a bad day. forced to attend the fair in her friends' hopes she may catch the eye of a wandering man, feeling suffocated in the bodice laced around her chest and ribs, and missing the comfort of her uniform and clinical aromas - she was in hell. pursing her lips, the mediwitch hums before looking into her empty drink, swirling around invisible liquid as she speaks, "it was a berry mead i believe. something rich and flavourful. perhaps blackberrys? or blackcurrants maybe, were infused." a shrug of the shoulders and an uninterested face, gwendolyn turns to look back at clementine. was she being difficult on purpose? not wholly, no. was she going to ease off? maybe, maybe not. forcing a sigh from parted lips, gwen speaks with a hand gesturing openly to clem. "please just be honest and drop the sales pitch. what is it you are trying to sell me or get me to interact with?"

clem watches the other down their drink with a similar sinking feeling in her stomach. it would be worse if she just walked away at this point, having been the one who engaged gwendolyn in conversation, but the temptation is there and growing with each passing second. gwendolyn clearly doesn't recognise her, and she wishes that she could say the same – the narrowed eyes and pursed lips set off the angry little alarm bells that rarely get struck anymore, and at least if clementine didn't recognise her she could have a go at being rude back.    “ depends what that drink was. ”   she's very sure it was alcoholic, from the smell wafting over, but the sales persona refuses to be shed.    “ can't promise no lutes or playing cards will approach, but they won't be our own. ”    especially not if you keep that sour look on your face, she stops herself from adding, instead offering a smile that feels incredibly fake, but hopefully doesn't look it.

[med1rigby]

Gemma Chan as Sersi Eternals (2021) dir. Chloé Zhao

[med1rigby]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: level one, the atrium. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: closed for ezekiel burke ( @hoggleswart )

gracefully making her way over to the minister's advisor, there is a clear tension in her exposed shoulders as she forces a smile onto her lips - she can hear the distant crow of her mother's high-pitched remarks ( how she could remember it after twenty-six years away from her was beyond gwen ). "mister burke." the mediwitch offers a bow of her head to the other, the framing pieces of her hair falling with her movement before she looks back to him. "i am in need of escape once more, if you so wish in being my knight that would be much appreciated." gwendolyn. her name is called in the banshee cry, her smile never faltering as eyes hold the begging of her request, "please."

[med1rigby]

gwen had been in service to st mungos for decades now - two and a half decades to be exact - she was practically part of the furniture these days, so to see new faces coming to join her field of work? it was a breath of fresh air that she welcomed. looking over the girl, gwen offers a soft smile in reassurance - there were aspects of her nerves that reminded the mediwitch of a nineteen year old runaway in search of stability. a lifetime ago. "of course, take as long as you need. we've all been in that position that you stand in now, even your sister." a beat. "if you need any advice, i would be happy to help in any way i can."

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  whatever you choose, you've got my support. 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈   : @med1rigby ! 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  st mungo's, london !

"oh. well. thanks !" she says, politely, still unconvinced. daphne wouldn't like it very much, and neither does she, really - st mungo's is her sisters playground, and she's seen enough of it to last her a lifetime. she picks at the corner of the welcome wix job application, rolling it in and allowing it to roll back out again, over and over, still pondering whether she should go so far as to fill out more than her name and getting no closer to a decision. for once aware of just how much she's probably holding up the other, astoria shifts her weight and asks, somewhat nervously, "can i bring this with me ? to think about it, a little more ? would that be okay ?"

[med1rigby]

clementine had managed to convince the matron in charge of the healer's hut to allow her a short shift, something to distract her from the needless chaos of the faire beyond the tent's coverings - the quicker she could return to normality, the better. a brow raises in questioning as she takes in clementine, having run into her earlier this week, she was hardly expecting to have met her once more. especially to spark such a casual manner of conversation - they weren't friends, so why was she here still? "i am, yes." her voice is slow and calculated, features confused as she places down the tray she had been holding. "i'm afraid not, where you looking for someone?"

LOCATION : the healers' hut FEATURING : gwendolyn rigby ( @med1rigby ) !

despite doing her very best to avoid the healer's hut to start, to avoid locking eyes with anyone who might recognise her, clementine had slowly been drifting towards it throughout the duration of her free evening. there was a little spark, a little hope, with a lad with a head injury just outside earlier in the night, but the healer she'd stumbled into had not been one that she had known. there was something cathartic that she was seeking – a familiar face, and maybe not necessarily a friendly one. she'd bumped into gwendolyn earlier in the week, so she wasn't the most ideal candidate, but she'd have to do.    “ you on shift today? ”    clementine asks, though the answer is obvious from the mediwitch robes she's sporting, and her presence at the hut itself.     “ had many patients? ”

[med1rigby]

draining the last of her drink, the mediwitch savours the sweet taste before it burns down the column of her throat - she must ask them what brand it was, she could use a new potion to her personal supply at home. eyes narrow, bored already by the question coming from clementine's lips before her own purse together. be kind. the words echo in her mind as the buzz of alcohol hums inside her gut. fine. "if it's another drink like this one then go ahead, but if i even see a slither of playing cards or a lute then i may just do something i'd regret," she wouldn't, but she had to make her point somehow.

there's a ( luckily, reasonably small ) part of her that despises having to do this part of the job. it'd been on a rota for the week at the renaissance faire, and she's aware it's only fair that at some point it'd be her job, but there's still some initial resistance. she has been incredibly fortunate that so far everyone has played along & humoured her, but that was about to end. clementine doesn't recognise gwendolyn until it's too late, and the panicked look on her face mirrors that exactly. she's already mid-way through the pitch :   “ do you love a hot cup of brew? ”   when gwendolyn speaks, and the mixture of recognition and the interruption leaves her stood there with an open mouth like a goldfish.    “ no singing or games. ”    she concedes after a considerable pause.     “ i am trying to sell you something, though. ”

[med1rigby]

6, 8, 10, 13, 17 !

06.  the lovers  :  how important are relationships to your muse ? do they value having a significant other ?

she lives quite an isolated life nowadays, the only people she interacts with being max's parents and her colleagues - though it is evident that she shines when in a relationship. to be supported and loved has an overwhelming effect on one's soul, as seen in gwen.

08.  strength  :  how does your muse use their energy ? do they tend to work towards their goals steadily or in bursts ?

answered here !!

10.  the wheel of fortune  :  how well / badly does your muse take setbacks on their goals ?

her mother would speak of an angry child whom would kick doors, but now as an adult long away from the yaxley bloodline, gwen goes mute. her thoughts a string of planning to fix the setback and get on track. interrupt this process at your own danger.

13.  death  :  is there anything in your muse’s life that they should be letting go of ?

answered here !!

17.  the star  :  what does your muse take inner comfort in knowing ? what guides your muse ?

that max and lily are together. though she grieves and misses their place in her life, she takes comfort knowing that her husband and daughter are together in the next life, and that they are waiting for her. its sad, its upsetting and its dark, but knowing that they will be there when she goes is something that actually warms her and keeps her rooted.

[med1rigby]

08, 13 & 20

08.  strength  :  how does your muse use their energy ? do they tend to work towards their goals steadily or in bursts ?

gwen's energy is typically placed towards her work at st. mungos, steady and quick paced like the environment. it is rare that gwen actually finds something to reach for these days, typically sticking to her routine and giving her all to that, but when she does have a goal in mind then she will put small bursts of energy towards that in between work.

13.  death  :  is there anything in your muse’s life that they should be letting go of ?

it's not that she should let her husband and daughter go, but she needs to let go of the survivor guilt from their deaths a decade ago. the guilt has pushed her into a mundane routine, old habits from before marriage, simply a lonely life - people in her life ( her neighbours, colleagues and max's parents ) have been trying to push her out of this rut.

20.  judgement  :  is your muse forgiving of themselves ? how about of others who wrong them?

for both herself and others who wrong her, gwen is as harsh as harsh can be. she refuses to forgive people, including herself, due to a teaching from people she certainly doesn't forgive - her parents. to forgive is to show weakness.

[med1rigby]

there is a hint of envy at the younger healer's outfit, admiration for the irony she chose and a slither of pride for the people she worked with - from what she has seen and heard, miss greengrass reminds gwen a lot of her younger years. after having done a hurried loop of the festivities beyond the tent, gwen had beelined for the healers hut in hopes of sneaking a few distracting hours away before making an early escape home - if she were to leave now then she would be easily found out by those that had pushed her to come. a smirk pulls at plump lips at the baby healer's call, "is that any way to speak to your favourite colleague?" she jests, a rarity for gwen if anybody knows, "and if you keep it a secret from the head bat, then yes please. i can't stand this faire, so loud and . . . loud." laughing softly, she fully enters the tent, humming. "whilst it is true that the iddy-bitty healers take charge of events like these, " a wink, "i can't help but butt in."

though the costume has made it so that small children are equally as terrified as they are morbidly delighted by her , daphne has been thankful that the majority of injuries she’s had to treat so far has mostly been heat - related , mild as their summer was . she was sure it would pick up once the jousts started , and she was expecting to see some returning visitors . still , the job that she loved on a regular basis was only made more fun by the general levity of working in a tent with a bird mask on . obstructed as her view was , she did still manage to catch a glimpse of a face only truly familiar to her within the halls of their shared occupation . ❝ oi , ❞ she calls , because she refuses to lend any credence to the idea that ren faire workers must stay in character all the time . ❝ here to take over for the rest of the day ? ❞ the tone she takes is jocular , teasing . an attempt at camaraderie from one mediwitch to another who knows how often work comes calling when you least expect it . ❝ or is the ren faire gig only for us baby healers ? ❞

【  𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚠𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 :  gwendolyn rigby  ( @med1rigby) 】

[med1rigby]

gwen had done one full loop of the faire before hiding in the healers hut, finding solace amongst her work - which she wasn't supposed to be doing today - than around the festivities beyond the tent. offering the woman a sympathetic smile, she nods in understanding. "i will admit, it's quite a confusing layout, isn't it?" gesturing for the woman to step outside the tent, gwen moves to look out at the surrounding festival. "i'm not actually supposed to be on duty . . . i suppose i can get you there before i make my escape."

nasrin  must  have  wandered  off  too  far  ,  the  fanfare  of  the  entire  event  being  entirely  too  confusing  at  times  .  the  corners  of  her  mouth  turn  down  before  she  can  even  think  about  it  ,  quickly  composing  herself  into  a  tight  smile , praying that it is not too obvious how lost she is  .  “  n-no  ⸻  i  think  i  might  have  turned  right  when  i  should  have  turned  left.  i  was  looking  for  the  …  elixirs  ?  ”

[med1rigby]

“Not only did she graduate top of her class at Oxford, start multiple charities, and is a fashion icon, Astrid has the biggest heart of any of my cousins.”