Lix, Lix! I wanna very genuinely ask this. How does Dave feel about being adopted by Celeste pretty much?
And second question: How does Dan feel about his sorta aunt adopting one of his workers lol?
Unfortunately, I have some bad news.
Because uhhhh you see … with me fleshing out Dave’s backstory there comes a new development.
*looks at Dave*
He comes with so much childhood trauma now *jazz hands* yay!!!
Said trauma results in Dave massive issues with authority (which is way he pranks anyone under the sun) and when it comes to parental attention...
Um yeaahhh... Dave is not a fan. He would up the Smile™️ by one hundred and be even more of a little shit then usual. Also, he would start avoiding Celeste and just be in complete denial. Like “Adoption? What is that? Can I eat it?“ (Dave tends to lose his Braincell when it comes his mommy and daddy issues lol)
As for Dan:
Well, he would take one look at Dave’s thousand watt grin and screech like a demon being exorcised. Because my baby is a possessive bastard who doesn't like if his territory is disturbed. (Also a Dave smiling extra hard only spells trouble and he already has enough on his plate as it is).
But Celeste is a smart cookie. I bet she will back off instantly as soon as she realises Dave is uncomfortable.
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Elo Runs into More Trouble Snippet
CW: Alcohol
Aqua and I were talking about Due South, how Young Elo was a lot like Benton Fraser and how if she hadn't learned to prioritise her time, she would have burned out by age 21, which reminded me of this snippet.
It's raw and unedited from a story that never really went anywhere. Set after the events of the DNS campaign.
I stepped forward and gave a military bow – one arm across my chest and from the waist.
"General," I said by way of greeting, keeping my tone neutral. Silently, I felt Auri walk in behind me and move over to one side.
As I came upright, I took in the room. It was as plush as any other room in the Council Tower, but dogeared with signs of use. Warm wood panels lined the walls, a flickering fireplace and softly glowing chandelier brought cozy light. But the rugs were starting to show their wear, the armchairs and settee made comfortable with use, and cup rings marred the wooden coffee table.
Strucker made a genial noise of acknowledgement, pulling my attention towards him. He stood at a floor-length window, it's heavy drapes pulled back, looking out at the city. His elbow moved, his reflection swirling a brandy snifter.
"Do you know," he began, "I once asked Captain Withnail why he drank so heavily. He never used to, I pointed out. Oh well, I mean he drank, but it had become more so recently, at that time."
"Oh?" I said, again as neutral as I could manage. Captain Withnail had been my first Watch Captain, back when I was starting out at Precinct Eight.
"Hmm. His answer was this new recruit of his. A woodling. Tiny slip of a thing. He said he despaired of her ever making it to her eighteenth birthday.
"'A woodling?' thought I. How could one tiny creature send an already hardened man to drink to such excess?" Strucker paused to sip his brandy. "And then I had to oversee the appointment of not one but two new captains to Precinct Eight. Both appointments could be linked back to that slip of a girl.
"Not too long after that I was meeting with Captain Fugit, and noticed he too had turned to the bottle more and more frequently. Again I asked him, 'Fugit, how is it that you drink so?'.
"'It is an officer of mine,' said he, 'recently returned from adventures outside the city. I despair of her ever making it past her twenty-first birthday.'"
The General took another sip of his brandy, and swirled it, watching it closely. "I realise it is uncouth to ask a lady her age, but indulge me: Lady Tourguarde, how old you are now?"
"I'm twenty-seven, General, sir," I said.
"Ah," he said, nodding. "Well then, my dear, I feel I can safely proclaim: I despair of you ever making it to your thirtieth birthday." Thus saying, he downed the rest of his brandy.
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Tumblr added *even more* clicks to get to the queue. Why. I asked for the opposite of this.
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