#TECHNICALLY. SINCE HES YOUNG RANDAL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

book-place · 3 years ago

Text

Reuniting

Warnings: moon knight spoilers!!, cursing, bad parenting, mentions of character death, all Arabic comes from google translate, implied abuse, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Marc Spector x sister reader, little bit of Steven Grant x sister reader

Request: Would you be down to write a Marc Spector with a younger sister? Like maybe she was born/adopted after Randall’s passing and was super close to Marc until he left. The he meets her again in Cairo.

(I hope this is what you were looking for, sorry if it’s not what you had in mind)

Requested by: @softieekayy

*not my gif*

Summary: You hadn’t seen your brother in years, and you thought he was dead. Imagine your surprise when you see him on the way to the market in the morning

A/N: Marc and Stevens voices will be bolded and italicized whenever they’re talking to whichever one is fronting; I got a lot more moon knight requests so I’m working on them atm

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

The crowd swarmed on around you, unaware of your frozen presence in the center of them, continuing around you as if your eyes weren’t locked on that familiar mop of brown curls and darker eyes, as they stared right back at you.

Clearly neither of you had expected the other to be there, you on your way to the market and him on his way to his hotel room.

Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you were sure that everyone around you could hear it over the chaos of the busy city.

Last he had heard you were still in the states, living in an apartment in Chicago, working as a waitress in a local cafe while taking classes at the nearby community college.

And last you knew, your brother, Marc Spector, might as well have been dead because nobody had heard from him for months.

When you had received a panicked phone call from his wife, Layla, you immediately phoned the police, but they told you that they couldn’t do anything because he technically went missing in Egypt.

Of course the other lady had already told the police there, but they apparently had come up with absolutely nothing on the man, as if he had disappeared from the face of the earth and Marc Spector had never been alive in the first place.

You had immediately flown to Cairo to comfort your sister-in-law and grieve alongside her for about two weeks before she tearfully left you, saying that she had things that she had to take care of.

She had checked in with you every day since, knowing how close you and your brother used to be.

You had come into the picture a month after your older brother Randall had died, your mother had been eight months pregnant with you when it all happened.

As soon as you came into the world, she despised you with every bone in her body, blaming you just as much as Marc for her not being able to chase after the boys that rainy day because of how pregnant she was.

With your father being so focused on trying to take care of his wife, poor young Marc had practically been left to raise you on his own, with the help of Steven of course.

You had been so young at the time that you hadn’t known that it wasn’t completely normal for your brother to be two different people, so you loved both the boys with all your heart.

Unknown to you, Marc had done everything in his power at the time to shield both you and Steven from the horrors that really went on in your household.

When you were finally old enough to understand what was going on with Marc and Steven, the alter for some reason stopped fronting. And whenever you tried to talk to your brother about it, he just brushed you off, leaving you to assume that one of the people that raised you was truly gone, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Around that same time, you were exposed to what was really going on with your mother, only having had small snippets of it in the past, while Marc was at school and you were home on a half day, suffering from your mother screaming at you that it was your fault your older brother had died. One that you hadn’t even known existed until that moment.

And then the second Marc was old enough, he left and didn’t look back. Not to your father. Mother. Home. Or even you, his little sister, whom he had protected and raised for most of his life.

He hadn’t been thinking that day, all he knew was that he was finally old enough to get out of there when he was drafted into the Marines, and by the time he had realized where he left you, it was too late.

You were left alone in that hellhold for a few more years before you too were finally allowed to leave, and you took the first chance you could and got the hell out of there

Sadly, you hadn’t had enough money saved so you couldn’t move out of the city or go to a great college despite your intelligence, but you made due.

During this time Marc had been dishonorably discharged, and the first thing he had done was go looking for you.

And once he found you all he wanted to do was go to you. Hug you. Apologize. Over and over again. Assure you he would never leave again.

But then he realized that you were probably way better without him in your life. Him and his problems.

So he stayed away.

Watching from afar and keeping tabs on you to make sure that you were always okay and never in any immediate danger.

As soon as Marc stepped out of that house, you had absolutely no idea what had happened to him.

And then Layla had reached out to you- after hearing so many stories about you from her husband- to share the news of his disappearance, making your world come crashing down once again.

Not only had he been alive, he had been married and able to contact you, but he had chosen not to. He clearly had not wanted anything to do with you.

Maybe he too blamed you for Randall’s death.

And then you found out that he once again was gone? You had no idea what to do or how to react.

Once Layla left you, you had planned on staying in Egypt only a day later, but then you had rekindled an old interest of yours. Egyptian mythology.

Steven used to tell you stories about it all the time instead of reading your normal bedtime stories and he would just ramble on and on about it for hours, surprised that you never stopped him and actually ended up showed interest in it.

You had decided to stay a while longer to study more about it instead of going back, taking time off to stay.

Learning about it made you feel closer to Steven, and even Marc, the people you thought you knew before Marc had left and Steven had disappeared.

After being there for three months already, you had woken up to begin your normal routine of going to the market in the morning for some breakfast, which was when you saw him.

Slowly, Marc’s feet seemed to work without him meaning for them to and he practically floated over to you, mouth dropped slightly and eyes wide.

You were frozen in place, unable to move towards or away from the man, and your brain wasn’t able to comprehend him being there, so you didn’t know if you wanted to move closer to or away from him.

“Y/n.” He breathed out, eyes scanning every inch of your face, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Finally, you appeared to be snapped out of your daze, and you took a stumbling step back, visibly flinching away.

Marc, who hadn’t even realized he put his arms out to catch you if you fell, dropped them to his sides with a frown.

Is that… is that really her?

The man didn’t even have to glance at the mirror on the wall next to him to know that Steven was staring at you with wide and watered eyes.

Ignoring him, Marc pressed on, “Y/n?” He repeated the same question, trying to understand if you were really there, or if he was just getting crazier faster.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head and turning on your heels, running your hands through your hair, “This is not happening, this is not happening.” You kept repeating to yourself, trying to get rid of what you thought to be a hallucination.

“مرحبا، هل أنت بخير؟”

(Hey, are you okay?)

Ahmed was a local that you had become friends with when you moved into the city, he had known how hard it could be moving to a foreign country, and he did everything he could to make you feel welcomed, and in doing so he quickly became your first friend in Cairo.

He been walking to work when he had seen you stumbling away from a strange man with a look of terror on your face, and he immediately rushed over to see what was happening.

You whipped around to face him, pointing a shaky finger at Marc, “هل هذا الرجل هناك؟”

(Is that man there?)

Ahmed looked back and forth between the two of you in confusion before giving a hesitant nod, unaware of what was going on.

Marc on the other hand, was in shock. When had you learned how to speak Arabic?

You turned back to your friend, giving him the best brave face you could muster before assuring him that you would be okay and that he could go to work. And after much persuasion, he did.

You turned back to face Marc, lifting your eyes to face your older brother, “What are you doing here, Marc?” You hadn’t meant for your tone to waver, but it did and Marc immediately began feeling guilty.

Marc… what did you do to her?

“Shut up.” The man snapped, trying to focus on his sister at the moment.

“Excuse me?” It had come out louder than you expected it to, and people started staring.

Marc’s eyes widened and he quickly looked back to you in panic, “No, no! I wasn’t talking to you!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over yourself and cocking an eyebrow at him, “Sure, Marc.” The name came out of your mouth as if it were venom and Marc felt his blood run cold, and he knew Stevens did as well.

“L-listen,” Marc had never felt like this before, so… desperate. And he didn’t like the feeling, not at all, but he needed to talk to you, “I know I’ve got a lot of explaining to do-“

“A lot of-“ You screamed, interrupting him, but you cut yourself off as more people turned to stare at the two of you.

With a huff you turned on your heel and began stomping to somewhere more private, not bothering to see if your brother was following you.

When you got into an empty alley you turned to him with a hard glare, and he could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped. The glare was so deadly, and so unlike the sister he had known all those years ago.

“I thought you were dead, Marc.” You whispered, looking down at the ground quickly, “I came to terms with that fact when I was eleven.”

Marc’s breath hitched, “You… you thought I was dead this whole time?”

He doesn’t know what he had expected, he had been gone for so long with no explanation, after all.

You nodded and let out a humorless laugh and tilted your head up to the sky to keep the tears out of your eyes, “Imagine my surprise when your wife called, claiming you to now be missing.”

He hadn’t thought his heart could be dropped farther then it already had, until you had said that, “Layla?” He was surprised, she hadn’t mentioned meeting you to him or Steven.

You let out another laugh that sent chills down his spine, “You know, all this time you could’ve reached out, sent me a postcard, something instead of me having to lose my brother for the second time.”

Marc…

“I never meant to hurt you.” The man whispered brokenly.

Your eyes snapped up to him and the tears were immediately replaced by fires of rage, “Well you did.”

Marc, give me the body.

“N/n…”

I can fix this.

“Just go, Marc.” Your voice was final.

“Fine,” he whispered, “I’m gone.”

You stood there, waiting for him to walk away, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there and for a split second , letting his eyes flutter shut, and when they opened your brother no longer stood in front of you.

Replacing his tall posture and defensive figure, he suddenly became slightly slouched and awkward, making your eyes go wide with realization.

“Hello, love.” Stevens' British voice called out to you hesitantly, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Steven.” You breathed out in disbelief, “You-you’re…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He smiled nervously, “I’m here, in the flesh.”

“Oh my god.” You let out a sob, rushing over and wrapping your arms around the man, “You- I thought you were gone as well, for years before Marc left, I mean, but-“

You quickly pushed yourself away, causing him to stumble a bit because his arms had been wrapped around you as well, “You didn’t reach out to me either.”

Steven glanced quickly at Marc in the mirror, unsure of what to do.

The man in the mirror sighed, putting his head in his hands.

Tell her.

Steven didn’t need to be told twice, “N-no, it’s not like that! I-he… I don’t know how he did it but I thought that you and I were texting everyday, but it must’ve been someone else.”

“So… you thought you were still in contact with me after all these years?” You slowly put together the pieces.

He quickly nodded in return, relieved that you appeared to believe him.

“And, about Marc…” Steven started, ignoring how said man’s head snapped up in concern, “He really thought he was doing what was best for you… as bonkers and messed up as it may be.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, looking down again for a moment, thinking, before moving your eyes up to find his, “May I talk to him?”

Within two seconds, Marc was standing before you.

You got this, mate.

“Is what he says… true?” You asked.

Marc nodded, “I really did think that keeping you away from me would end up protecting you. Not a day passed where I didn’t want to reach out so damn badly, but I forced myself to make the most difficult decision of my life and I stayed away.”

That’s all it took for you to hurdle yourself at your big brother and wrap your arms around his neck just like you had done moments before with Steven.

He didn’t waste a second wrapping you in a strong, warm, and protective hug that made you feel safer then you had in years, holding you close and burying his face in your hair. Allowing himself a moment more of vulnerability.

Finally, you gently pulled away, “We have a lot to catch up on.”

That we do.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Marc replied, smiling down at you slightly.

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flyinghome-againstthewind · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,381 times in 2022

That's 660 more posts than 2021!

33 posts created (2%)

1,348 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theawkwardterrier

@walkinginland

@notenotenotenote

@frasersjamieclaire

@philtstone

I tagged 1,004 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#outlander - 429 posts

#jamie x claire - 314 posts

#outlander spoilers - 131 posts

#legends of tomorrow - 119 posts

#claire fraser - 66 posts

#avalance - 49 posts

#jamie fraser - 43 posts

#castle x beckett - 43 posts

#🥺🥺🥺 - 27 posts

#ofmd - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i also like to joke that i technically have a psych minor bc i met all of the requirements for it i had just transferred schools in between

My Top Posts in 2022:

Beside the Seaside: Ch 3

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previous chapter

1944

Claire Randall had been to France when she was young, had seen the lush green countryside and walked the streets of Paris, but she had long since been unable to reconcile her memories of another world with this one. She stood in the heart of what had once been a bustling city but was now reduced to rubble. The British army had set up a field hospital within the ruins of a cathedral, and Claire had grown accustomed to the way the steady sound of distant gunfire echoed off of its remaining half-walls. She lifted her head from tending to a soldier to see one of her fellow nurses, Marion, shuffling a wounded man into the tent.

“Have you seen him out there?” Claire asked. Marion shook her head and turned her own attention to her patient.

“You looking for your boy?”

Her gaze returned to the soldier, who was grimacing through the question. Corporal Thompson would be alright, she thought, but there was little she could do for his pain while cleaning and stitching up his wound. Besides, perhaps, a bit of a distraction, which he seemed to be looking for. Claire gave in, though it was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“He’s not my boy, he’s just…”

He was Fergus, eight-year-old charmer and perpetual pain in her arse. As soon as she got her hands on him, she was going to throttle him.

“Maybe not,” Thompson conceded, “but you look out for him, don’t you? Everyone always sees you two together, anyway.”

The man’s assessment of her and Fergus brought her up short. She paused in her treatment and stared at him, the urge to defend the young scamp rising steadily to the surface. “He needs a little looking after, whether he wants it or not. He doesn’t have anyone.”

There were few who came through this camp without learning Fergus’s story. The boy was already an orphan before war broke out, but when his city’s inhabitants evacuated, including the staff and wards of the Catholic orphanage where the boy was said to have been a resident, Fergus was left behind. Some said he stayed behind on purpose, for Fergus truly was the life of the camp and ran wild through it without the supervision of the nuns, but most believed he’d just been overlooked in the chaos. By Claire’s estimation, Fergus had been here with the army for at least two years now, moving with them in the encampment, and living off of the kindness of others. He’d been “stationed” here longer than Claire had, and even with the entire camp as his personal playground, she saw very quickly that no one was really caring for Fergus. Even the details of his story had become a bit muddied without someone there to safeguard it; for instance, she was never clear on whether this very city had been his home or if the army had picked him up on their way through to it. Fergus himself was squirrely on the details, in no hurry to return to the nuns.

“Funny kid, that Fergus,” Thompson went on, hissing on occasion but otherwise quietly bearing the pain. To some of the soldiers, Fergus was nothing more than a pet, a source of entertainment, as though they couldn’t see the humanity in a small, lonely child. Claire was starting to get the distinct impression that Thompson fell into that category and grit her teeth as she neared the end of her stitching. “I wonder what will happen to him when this ends. If this ever ends…”

Claire felt her stomach churn. Where would Fergus go when the army left and no one returned to the rubble of his former home? “There’s got to be another orphanage somewhere that would take him.” But even as she spoke the words ‒ for a perfectly reasonable solution ‒ she hated the thought.

A bomb blast echoed in the distance and Claire’s eyes shot to the entryway again.

“So where’d he run off to?”

Claire bit her cheek to keep from screaming. She could be sympathetic to the man’s need for distraction, but this conversation was starting to make her want to pull her hair out. She was already worried sick over Fergus, and Thompson’s careless questions weren’t helping.

Mercifully, she caught her name being spoken and her gaze flitted toward the voice. It was Sergeant Harris, whom she was friendly with. He was a bit older than the rest and one of the few men Claire didn’t feel like she needed to keep her guard up around to ward off unwanted advances ‒ apparently a wedding ring didn’t mean much in wartime to most people.

“Fergus?” she asked, unable to keep her voice from wobbling. Just yesterday the boy had said he wanted to be a real soldier, and when he’d gone missing this morning…

“Yes, come see, Nurse Randall. He’s alright, but he’s all shook up.”

She ran out of the medical tent, quickly scanning the area for him. And when her gaze rested on him, the vice grip on her heart finally slackened. “Fergus!”

He looked up as she approached him, his expression a little dazed, and he seemed at that moment so much younger than his eight years.

“Oh, Fergus, you little wretch!” She clasped the boy to her heart and heaved a sigh of relief. He became boneless in her embrace, sinking into her.

“Milady,” he murmured. It was Fergus’s teasing nickname for her ‒ after their introduction at the camp, she’d ruthlessly dressed down a soldier for not paying attention to her presentation on preventing trench foot and Fergus had witnessed it. He had said she’d looked the part of nobility in that moment for her command over the men, and so he’d called her Milady ever since, always with a devilish glint in his eyes ‒ or at times he said it sarcastically when she turned her attention to fussing over him.

But just then, he sounded so small, so lost in the dark, and Claire didn’t know what else to do but clutch him tighter to her. “Are you alright?”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, framing his dirt-smudged face in her hands. God, she hoped that was only dirt.

“I k‒ I killed a German soldier, Milady.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Don’t tell me that,” she said in a breathless whisper.

“H‒h‒he was not with the others. I thought he might be a spy. He didn’t see me and I‒ I had a knife. I struck him.”

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65 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

chapter 26: the best by far is you

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Previous Chapter

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Chapter 26

“Do you think it’s strange,” Claire asked him while Brianna was tucked against her breast as she nursed, “that Murtagh hasn’t once held the baby?”

Her tone suggested that she did think it was strange, regardless of Jamie’s thoughts on the matter. “Och, I’ve told ye before, mo nighean, he’s scared o’ bairns when they’re that small. Thinks they’re too fragile and likely to fall apart in his arms.”

Claire’s brows furrowed together. “Well, sure, he didn’t go near Faith until she was at least seven months old, but I thought… I mean, he’s been wonderful with her ever since.”

“Aye, she’s no longer a wee babe now is she?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “So, he won’t go near Brianna until she’s hearty enough that he’s not scared to hold her? When she’s half a year old? Is that what you’re saying?”

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Sassenach… he loves our bairns. He’d protect them with his life. Ye ken that well. And aye, someday when Brianna is hearty enough as ye say, I’m sure he’ll hold her, if that’s yer worry.”

She shook her head, exasperated by the notion, and glanced down at the baby in her arms. Brianna’s arms and legs flailed as soon as Claire looked at her, wriggling with joy. Jamie’s heart melted at the sight. Such a sweet wee thing, their Brianna.

Claire’s finger traced the contours of the babe’s soft, round face. “Well, that simply won’t do, will it, Bree?”

----------

Claire cornered Murtagh with the baby while he was in the sitting room, lounging in one of the chairs and none the wiser to her scheming. Jamie sat nearby and watched the event unfold with nothing short of amusement, as Claire simply lowered the baby into Murtagh’s lap before there was an opportunity for the older man to escape.

Murtagh went rigid with fear, his arms stiff and awkward around the baby. “Nay‒ I‒ Claire!”

“Don’t make such a fuss. She’s sleeping.” Claire straightened, settling her hands on her hips, surveying the two unlikely companions with a smile. “There, see? Nothing to be afraid of.”

Murtagh looked as though he might argue that point, still holding Brianna with a delicateness as though she were a loaded pistol, poised to go off at any moment.

And with that, Claire spun and walked to the other side of the room to help Fergus with his lessons. Murtagh turned sharp eyes on Jamie. “What the devil is all this about, then?”

Jamie’s gaze flitted over to Claire but she wasn’t looking. He suspected she would be stealing glances this way, though. “I think,” he began softly, “that she worries ye won’t… bond with Brianna, if ye dinna hold her.”

“Christ,” Murtagh muttered under his breath.

Jamie held a hand up placatingly to his godfather. “She sees how ye are wi’ Fergus and wee Faith, I think she just wants to make sure ye care the same way about the bairn, too.”

His godfather made a disgruntled sound. “If she thinks this is the way to do it…” he grumbled. “Fer Christ’s sake, of course I care about the bairn.”

“I ken that, but…” Jamie’s gaze dropped to the sleeping babe in Murtagh’s arms, so small and helpless, and his heart wrenched. He understood the deeper reason that Claire was so unsettled about Murtagh and the bairn. “Anything could happen, ye ken? We have three bairns now, and with all that happened in the last year, just trying to keep our family together… Claire cannae help thinking about the worst… what would happen to the wee ones if we weren’t‒” He swallowed roughly, shrugging a little. Claire wasn’t the only one who couldn’t help thinking about that. Any parent would.

“Aye, I ken yer meaning fine.” Murtagh looked down at the baby then too, still appearing stiff as a poker as he held her, but the older man’s expression softened. “Christ, though… did she think I would leave the bairn and keep the others?”

“I dinnae think she feels that way now, seeing as ye havenae tried to pass the baby off to me yet,” he said with a grin.

Murtagh grunted his displeasure. “I would if I wasnae so nervous she might roll out o’ my arms when I tried.”

Jamie huffed a laugh. “Ye’re doing fine, a ghoistidh. And while I have ye at my disposal,” he teased, earning another sharp look from Murtagh. “I’ve been meaning to ask ye… what yer plans are from here. If ye want to go back to Scotland or continue on wi’ us.”

Murtagh simply stared at him until Jamie was shifting in his seat under his gaze. “First Claire and now you? Och, ye wound me, Jamie.”

“I didnae want to presume. That’s why I asked.”

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67 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

Beside the Seaside: Ch 1

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next chapter

Summary:

The Second World War has ended but returning to their lives from before the war proves difficult for many. For widower Jamie Fraser, the physical and psychological scars he now carries threaten the peaceful life he wants to provide for his young daughter. In an effort to start over fresh, he moves them to a coastal town in the Highlands and buys a seaside inn.

Claire Beauchamp returned from the war with an orphan in tow, intent on adopting the boy and starting the family she and her husband had longed for before the war interrupted their plans. But in gaining her son, she loses her marriage and now must cobble together some sort of life for just her and Fergus. To try and mend their fractured relationship, she takes her son on an extended stay in the Scottish Highlands.

November 1945

He had the car drop him off at the end of the lane rather than Lallybroch’s doorstep. Stood there for a minute with his bag thrown over one shoulder and his uniform growing damp under the steady rain.

It had been raining the day he left Lallybroch, and it gave Jamie a strange sense of no time having passed between that day and this one, even though everything about his life had changed in those five years. Yet Lallybroch looked the same. The heavy stone walls built by his ancestors had stood for two centuries and it heartened Jamie to see the place untouched by the destruction of war. The walls of it, at least.

His feet felt leaden with every step that brought him closer to his home. He wasn’t ready for who he would see. He wasn’t ready for who he wouldn’t see here ever again. And while he’d carried some of these losses for three years now, he hadn’t been home without them yet. It would be real, inescapable, the moment he stepped foot inside.

Jamie had hardly passed under the archway of Lallybroch before the bellowing of several dogs inside the house announced his presence. Ready or not, the front door flew open, and there was his ma. His throat constricted at the sight of her, and he’d all but blinked and she was in front of him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Oh, my lad! My son,” she sobbed into his neck, her voice nearly drowned out by the heavy rain.

Ye’re a braw lad, son.

The words came to mind of their own volition, a memory triggered by his return. Not spoken by his mother, but his father on the day Jamie left for training. His da had driven him to the train station after Jamie had said goodbye to everyone else, giving Jamie a prolonged moment with Brian Fraser. But the entire drive and all through waiting for Jamie’s train, the two of them hardly spoke. What was there to say in such circumstances? Brian had fought in the Great War, and he’d hoped to spare his own sons from such a fate. That was no secret to Jamie, and he’d already witnessed Brian’s quiet grief when Willie left months before. Knew that his own leaving was twisting the knife further in Brian’s gut. So they’d stayed quiet. When the train pulled in and began to fill with soldiers, Brian had clapped Jamie on the shoulder and, when Jamie moved to hug his father, had kissed his cheek, something he hadn’t done since Jamie was a boy. “Ye’re a braw lad, son,” he had said, giving Jamie’s shoulder a wee shake. When his father spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. “Make sure ye come back home.”

Jamie felt his chest tighten with the memory and his arms squeezed around his mother. He had done as Brian had told him ‒ he had come home. But not before he could see his father alive again, now dead and buried in the Lallybroch family cemetery. Those words became the last thing his da ever said to him, and among his long list of regrets in life was the hour that Jamie wasted in silence with him on that day.

“Oh, my Jamie,” his mother was saying now. She pulled back to look at him, framing his face in her cold, wet hands. His jaw tensed.

Ellen MacKenzie Fraser had always been the stubborn pillar of strength in their family but in the last six years, she’d had to weather more than a fair share of grief. She looked more frail than he’d ever seen her before, and that left a cold feeling in his chest.

“Jamie!”

His gaze lifted to the doorway to find Jenny rushing down the steps, clutching her round belly ‒ he hadn’t realized she was pregnant again, hadn’t seen word of it come through in any of his letters from home.

He opened one arm to embrace his sister, bringing the three of them together. The unwelcome thought came as he held them; they were the last three Frasers standing, their family gone by half in the space of a bloody war.

“Och, it’s pouring buckets out here!” Jenny fussed. “Come inside and get warm.”

He picked up his bag from the ground and followed Jenny in, his mother’s hand on his back the whole way, like she needed to touch him to know he was real.

Stepping inside Lallybroch felt like stepping back in time ‒ everything exactly as he remembered it from before. He half-expected to see his father and his brothers when he rounded the corner into the sitting room, so inseparable were they in his memories of this place.

Instead, he caught sight of another familiar face. “Ian!”

“Good to see ye, Jamie.” His best friend strode across the room, his gate completely changed from the confident ease with which Ian used to carry himself. Until he saw that, Jamie had almost forgotten. Ian’s prosthetic leg wasn’t visible under his trousers, but to anyone who had known him before, his uneven strides were a dead giveaway.

Jamie embraced his friend ‒ his brother-in-law now too, he reminded himself ‒ and noticed Jenny then corralling a small boy towards them. “This is our wee Jamie,” she introduced with a proud smile. “This is your uncle, mo cridhe,” she said to the boy, “the one you’re named after.”

Jenny and Ian’s son was scarcely more than 3 years old, and he smiled shyly up at Jamie. His namesake. He had known this; Jenny had written to him with news of his first nephew while Jamie was nearly on his deathbed. At the time, it had been a comfort. Another reason to make it home. But now, looking down at the wee boy, all Jamie could think was that if his nephew had been born a few months later, he would be Willie’s namesake instead, or their father’s ‒ as he ought to be. Not saddled with Jamie’s name. Not when Jamie had done nothing for this boy to be proud of.

“Hello, laddie,” he said with a slight nod.

There was a gentle touch at his elbow and he turned to find his mother at his side again. “Someone else would like to see ye.” She nodded towards the doorway opposite them, and Jamie’s gaze flitted over to see a girl of six years of age in place of where he had left a wee babe. His stomach twisted into knots. She looked so much like her mother, it gave Jamie the strange sense of seeing a memory come to life right before him.

He skirted slowly around the others and paused six feet away from where his daughter stood. And lowered himself slowly to one knee.

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76 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

the best by far is you: chapter 25

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Previous Chapter

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Chapter 25

Jamie didn’t know what hour of night it was when Claire was finally given a chance to rest, after having been helped into a clean nightgown while the bed was stripped. The baby was bundled up and sleeping soundly in her cradle, the exhaustion from the last 24 hours having caught up with both mother and babe. He paused at the door, gaze flickering between the slumbering forms of his wife and their wee lass, heart in his throat.

Some small part of him was scared to step outside this room, to leave them even for a moment, lest he find out that the last several hours were nothing more than a dream.

But somewhere down the hall, there was someone waiting up for word of the baby, and Jamie wasn’t so cruel as to make him wait until sunrise.

So he slipped out into the hallway, vacant but still dimly lit with candles along the wall. Not long ago, there had been a flurry of activity in these halls. After the birth, a maid had spread word to the rest of the household that a baby girl had been safely delivered, including ‒ Jamie was sure ‒ to wherever Jared and Murtagh had settled in to drink their whiskey in the tense silence of men unsure of what to do with themselves while a woman labored. And just shortly before Jamie’s trek, another housemaid had helped Mother Hildegarde and Marie to their guest chambers for the night. But even while it was quiet now and the rest of the household seemed to sleep, Jamie knew one person was still up, who had been missed while the joyous news was spread.

They would’ve assumed the children were sleeping, but having been the boy on the other side of this conversation, Jamie was intimately acquainted with the fear that kept a son from sleeping no matter the hour. The relief and gratitude and joy that he got to deliver different news to his own son was almost enough to bring him to his knees there in the hallway. That he should be so fortunate to still have all of them with him…

He opened the door to Fergus’s room and the soft light from the hallway spilled into the pitch black room. Two small bodies were under the covers but only one stirred and bolted upright, expectant of a visitor.

The light caught the tracks of tears on Fergus’s face, his expression already taut with worry. “Maman?” he croaked.

His word landed like a punch in the gut. Jamie should’ve come sooner, should’ve found a way here immediately to put this boy’s fears to rest.

“She's alright. Oh, a balach, it’s alright,” he murmured, moving into the room as Fergus drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face, the sound of his smothered cries filling the room a moment later.

“Dinna fash yerself, laddie.” He perched on the edge of the bed, reaching over to rub Fergus’s back. “Dinna weep, mon fils, it’s alright,” he murmured soothingly, even as he knew Fergus needed the release of those tears for all the time he’d sat here in the dark fearing the worst. He cried for the relief of it all.

“Can I see Maman?”

“Aye, of course ye can. She’s sleeping just now though and we shouldnae disturb her. She’ll want to see ye when she wakes, so how about in the morning?” And maybe Fergus, with his fears put to rest, could find a few hours of sleep himself. The boy nodded half-heartedly and wiped his face with his palm before resting his cheek on one of his knees with a sigh.

“Ye’ve another baby sister,” Jamie told him softly.

“Oh,” Fergus startled, as if he’d forgotten for a moment what all of this was about. “And she’s alright?”

“Aye, she’s bonny,” Jamie beamed, and the corners of Fergus’s mouth curved upward. “She cannae wait tae meet ye.” He smoothed down some of Fergus’s short, riotous curls. “She’s so very wee and all worn out from making her appearance, though, so she’s getting some much needed rest as well,” he added, hoping it would be enough to convince Fergus that he might as well get his own precious few hours of sleep in the meantime.

He tucked Fergus back under the covers, murmuring reminders that he had a papa and maman who loved him very much and two wee sisters now who adored him, and he would see all of them when he woke up. Jamie sealed his words with a kiss to the boy’s head. His gaze went beyond Fergus to where Faith was still curled up under the blankets, snoring softly. A lump rose in his throat.

The greatest joys of his life…

His eyes burned with tears as he turned and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him. And when he slipped back into the room he shared with Claire, he found her and the babe exactly as he left them. His waking dream was completely undisturbed.

He did fall to his knees then, and on his tongue was a quick and reverent prayer of gratitude to the Almighty that this should be the life that he was given, the life that was restored to him.

----------

They slept in fits and starts, fumbling through a once familiar rhythm but with a precious new life. Claire’s eyes squinted open against the early light of morning ‒ the realization that it was already morning had her sleep-addled brain rebelling against the thought ‒ and stared at the empty space in bed beside her.

Her first thought was the baby; she didn’t hear a thing, so why had she awoken?

She shifted in bed and felt every muscle in her body screaming at her in protest. God, it felt like she’d been hit by a car ‒ a thought she’d have to keep to herself when others asked her how she was feeling. Jamie had fetched the baby every time she woke during the night so that Claire wouldn’t have to get out of bed, but even with that consideration, she was still tired and sore all over. It was different than how it had gone with Faith, she realized. With Faith, it had been flashes of terror and a race to save them both. Hardly felt like the labor itself had lasted longer than a minute for all that Claire could remember of it. But with this baby, Claire had labored for almost a full day ‒ and both body and memory could remember every second of it.

Then she heard it ‒ the soft squeaking grunt of a newborn, not quite a cry. Her head lifted from the pillow and swiveled, but the baby wasn’t in her cradle. No, instead, her gaze settled on her bare-chested husband sitting up in a chair with the baby pillowed against him, hardly visible to Claire beneath her blanket. Jamie’s eyes were closed, his head resting on the back of the chair, and she would’ve thought he was asleep if not for the steady rhythm of his fingers gently tapping the baby’s back. He must’ve heard her movement as his eyes opened then and found hers.

A lump rose in her throat, for no other explanation than she couldn’t help the swell of affection for them both, the sight of them so perfect she could weep. “Why are you all the way over there?”

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77 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the best by far is you: epilogue

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Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Epilogue

June 1750

His wife was still buried under the covers while Jamie moved about the room on quiet feet and got dressed in the soft light of dawn. He reached for his boots, the final article of dress, and caught sight of Claire’s hand rising out of the mess of blankets ‒ reaching out toward him in silent request.

He stopped in his tracks. Straightened back up.

“Don’t get up yet,” she said, her voice still heavy with sleep. “Stay in bed with me.”

His chest tightened and he let out a gentle sigh. “Aye.”

He crawled back onto the bed, fully-dressed save for his boots still, and molded his body against the curve of Claire’s. She let out a sleepy hum when he nuzzled into her wild hair and kissed the back of her neck. There was a time when he might’ve denied her request, felt the need to rush off to the responsibilities of farm life. But he knew now that all of that would keep ‒ for a little while at least ‒ but Claire and the bairns would not.

There was something in her touch, the way her hands clasped tightly over his, keeping his hold on her there, that told him her thoughts were running in tandem with his, reaching the same destination. He held her tighter still, turning his face into the crook of her neck and murmuring all that was in his heart to her, some bits in Gaelic but he thought she knew well enough now to understand his meaning if not the words themselves.

His eyes opened with the soft creak of their bedroom door opening. Of course, he could put off the work of the day for a bit, but the bairns didn’t always give them the same reprieve. “Sleep a little longer, Sassenach,” he whispered against her neck before leaving a parting kiss there. “I’ll get up wi’ her.”

When he rolled over and swung his feet out of bed, he caught sight of the impish wee lass in the doorway, bouncing on her toes already at the prospect of their recent morning routine together.

“Dood morning,” she sung to him, her eyes alight with joy, as he swiftly pulled on his boots and ushered her back through the doorway.

He swung Brianna up into his arms and closed the door behind them. “Good morning, m'annsachd.”

He stepped across the hall and poked his head into the nursery, knowing he would find Faith under the blankets still. Brianna was their only early riser now.

He let Faith be and knocked on Fergus’s door to get him up and moving for the day. Brianna was a warm weight against his chest, waiting patiently until Jamie headed down the stairs with her to the kitchen. A fire had already been started in the hearth, letting Jamie know Murtagh was up and about.

“I can make the parritch, Papa?”

Papa. That was who he was to Fergus, and to Faith, he was simply Da, but Brianna was growing up hearing both names for Jamie and used them interchangeably. Jamie didn’t mind — she’d likely settle on one or the other eventually, and it had never really mattered what his children called him, only that they were his to raise and love and guide.

“Aye, we’ll make it together.” He kissed her soft cheek still flushed from her sleep, and moved about with only one hand free to start on breakfast. His wee Brianna encumbered the process more than helped, but no one else in the household possessed Brianna’s early morning cheerfulness ‒ besides perhaps himself, as Claire often pointed out in mild annoyance ‒ so he got on just fine with the lass as meal preparations were started.

Jamie finally set her down just as Murtagh walked in through the kitchen backdoor.

“Murtagh!” the wee thing cheered and ran to him, throwing her arms around his legs. It was the kind of reaction that would make one think she hadn’t seen her beloved Murtagh in ages. It had been only a matter of hours, most of which she’d slept through. The older man grinned and reached down to smooth her hair, still wild from her sleep. She turned her face and kissed his trouser-clad knee before letting him go.

“Come eat yer parritch, Brianna, and let poor Murtagh come inside.”

“Och, she’s fine,” Murtagh protested, but still herded Brianna towards the table.

With a certain knack for timing his entrance at the moment food was ready, Fergus stumbled out into the kitchen then, silent and sullen and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He sunk into a chair at the table and Jamie wordlessly passed him a bowl, smothering a rueful smile. They’d learned not to engage Fergus too heavily in the morning during this season of his youth.

Claire appeared too, dressed and hair up in place, though a weariness beyond physical exhaustion still lingered in her eyes. She bent to kiss the top of Fergus’s head and then joined them at the table.

There was only one Fraser missing, so Jamie headed up the stairs for the nursery.

“Up ye get, Faith.”

She was still sleeping, but she’d stay in bed all day if they let her. So he scooped her up and carried her down to the kitchen. She was getting older ‒ six already ‒ but Faith was still such a slight thing that Jamie didn't think twice about carrying her around as he always had.

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87 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #considering i only started posting Beside the Seaside in Oct of this year #I'm v tender about the fact that 2 of the chapters are in my top 5 posts like you guys have been so supportive of my new fic baby 🥺🥺🥺#thank you friends! 💕#i love it here and i love all of you giving you all a lil forehead kiss MWAH #also screaming over the fact that ‘🥺🥺🥺’ is one of my top tags aksjdks #I really do resonate with that akskfjjsks

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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Amelia’s Alzheimer’s?

From what Owen Dennis told us, Book 5 of Infinity Train would’ve been a movie, covering Amelia’s takeover of the train… Which, I don’t know if Book 5 would’ve gone over her takeover, AND her eventual arc post-Book 3, but; I believe the implication is that like Book 4, this movie would’ve been a pure prequel, set in the past. A good look and further contextualization of Amelia’s past sins and how she got into the headspace she now has, in order to set up for a future Book where she finally gets her proper arc.

That leaves just three other books… One about Guilt, the next about Revenge, and the last of Acceptance. Book 5 is about Grief fittingly enough, and we know that Book 8 (Acceptance) would’ve delved into a passenger with alzheimer’s, whose condition would’ve kept them from engaging with the Infinity Train’s intended function properly. Owen Dennis mentioned how this final season would’ve been based on his own experiences with his grandfather, who had a similar issue in the past.

It’s easy to assume that Book 8 would’ve been about a whole new character, which leaves either Books 6 or 7 for the resolution to Amelia’s arc- But what if that’s not the case? The Book 8 protagonist would be pretty old, presumably, so…

…What if Amelia was the Book 8 protagonist? What if, by the end of the series, Amelia’s age would’ve caught up to her, and she’d start developing alzheimer’s- Further complicating her attempts to get her number down, especially when she can no longer remember Alrick like she used to!

Think about it- Amelia as the final protagonist would be a neat book-end to the series, given how we began with her as the final antagonist of Book 1. The show starts and ends with Amelia, who alongside One-One and Samantha the Cat (and arguably Randall) are basically the core, central tenet characters of the entire show. The resolution of Infinity Train is the resolution of Amelia, who serves as the passenger most entwined with the train, having once been its conductor even!

Not only that, but with how Amelia’s character serves as a means of criticizing and showing the fallibility of the Infinity Train, how she’s able to game the system, how she works in a place to criticize One-One’s direction with it… And her having to deal with alzheimer’s could continue that theme of Amelia’s character being a commentary on the flaws of the Infinity Train, if it can’t account for her memory loss!

Amelia’s memory loss would be difficult to work with, if we’d only gotten to know her in just Book 8; But now we have Books 1, 3, 4, and 5 (at the very least!) to bring background and context to her life-story, and it’s a LONG one too! Setting up Amelia’s past in great detail, going into the intricacies across the entire show… It could be setting up the audience to remember all of this, when Amelia herself can’t- So we can get a better idea of her frustration, of how she ended up here when Amelia herself is confused, etc.! We gain a deep and intimate understanding of Amelia’s past for her, in preparation for the memory loss of Book 8.

Owen talking about how Book 8 would’ve been based on his own experiences, watching his grandfather deal with amnesia- From a meta sense, the audience could serve Owen’s role! We’re the younger people, watching Amelia, our favorite old lady, grow across the series… We get attached to her, she’s basically like family, so naturally it hits harder to see her lose her memory. It’d be a meta way for Owen to really capture what he experienced in real life, by having the audience take his position when observing the character of Amelia.

From an in-universe standpoint, perhaps Hazel could serve as the proxy for Owen! She’s more or less Amelia’s daughter in the technical and arguably figurative sense- We don’t know exactly how their relationship would progress, and the last time we had hopes of Found Family for Hazel, it didn’t quite work out… But regardless. Perhaps Hazel, as a kid with relation to the older Amelia, would’ve gotten to grow up with her surrogate caretaker, learn to value and appreciate her and vice-versa; And then we see from Hazel’s pained perspective, the loss of Amelia’s memories. Perhaps Amelia losing her memories of her times with Hazel, even!

This could tie Amelia and Hazel’s stories together, especially with how linked the two are, with Hazel resulting from Amelia’s failed attempts to bring back Alrick! And Hazel has a few of Amelia’s memories- She remembers taking ballroom dance lessons, because Amelia was drawing upon those memories when trying to recreate Alrick. Hazel could serve as a young guide to comfort Amelia, a genuinely emotional connection, someone who remembers what Amelia can’t, in the absence of Alrick.

Book 8 would’ve been about Acceptance- AKA the final part of the 5 stages of Grief, when dealing with the death of a loved one… And Grief is the theme of Book 5, Amelia’s origin story! Amelia would accept the death of Alrick at the end of Book 8, and perhaps Hazel could learn to accept the death of Tuba and another family member in Amelia… In the sense that yes, Amelia is leaving her too- But Hazel will learn to move past Tuba’s death, and perhaps her own experience can help Amelia as well. They can grieve for Amelia’s memories, for Alrick, etc.

It’d also be an interesting and frustrating challenge for Amelia- As someone who no doubt has at least some pride in her intellect and mind, having her own mind start to degrade… It’d really put her into an interesting headspace, and force Amelia into that acceptance of what is inevitable, that some things she really can’t change. And of course, this could deal with theme of acceptance, of how Amelia clings to her past with Alrick; Having her memories of him start to fade could really shake this up, and force her to re-evaluate her life and values, her priorities… Perhaps decide to instead focus on the Now and Future, accepting that her past with Alrick is not only long-gone, but possibly due to be forgotten. That she can love and appreciate what it did for her, but Amelia has no choice but to move on- Even without those memories, without that past, she still has a future with Hazel and everyone else to keep living for.

For all we know, Samantha the Cat could even come into play here! She’s someone with access to people’s tapes, among them none other than Amelia’s- And before she gave it to Simon, Samantha also had the ability to create new tapes from passengers on the go. Samantha is a long-lived denizen, at least about 150+ years old, she’s lived and seen the entirety of Amelia’s reign, and was likely there since the very beginning; Owen Dennis did allude to Samantha being present in Book 5… Specifically, he suggested that us seeing Samantha kill someone was a possibility, amidst One-One or Amelia committing murder instead; And that of course suggests that, regardless of whether or not the Cat kills someone in Book 5, she’d still be a prevalent character.

Samantha having that past with Amelia, and her own conniving nature, could possibly lead to her conflicting with Hazel, perhaps recounting memories differently, or trying to tell them in a way that’d sway Amelia to her side, who knows? It’s also worth noting that she’s someone who has regret and loss in Simon… So perhaps if she served as a central cast member for Book 8 (befitting my point about Amelia being a book-ends kind of character), Samantha would’ve learned to accept the death of Simon, and/or help Hazel and Amelia move on as well. It’d be a fitting and appropriate farewell, I believe, to have Amelia and Samantha, two main-stays since the beginning, have their arc at the very end of the series.

And Hazel? Hazel could be representative of a new generation, to step up and take the mantle passed down. One-One’s own input would be fascinating, because like Samantha and Hazel, he has quite the past with Amelia, and a lot of significance and understanding of her sins. And with his control of the Infinity Train, I can see him attempt to recreate Amelia’s destroyed tape, or even try to create a new tape for her, to try and get around Amelia’s memory loss. The Infinity Train selectively deciding which memories it only thinks are important could lead to disagreement with One-One and conflict, exposing the flaws of the system- And/or, the Infinity Train might come across a roadblock because it can’taccess Amelia’s memories anymore!

This could be a culmination for One-One’s arc as well, as seeing his failure to account and accommodate Amelia’s alzheimer’s, leads him to decide to make MAJOR reforms to the Infinity Train as a result! Maybe he’ll even stop the whole process of kidnapping passengers (while still letting the denizens function and roam freely). Him and Amelia have an unusual, kind of at-odds but not really, sort of frenemy relationship; They’re working together, they’ve been enemies, they’ve collaborated, each was the reigning conductor at one point. We could have Samantha as someone with negative recollections of her time with Amelia, One-One with overall netural ones, and Hazel with positive associations! Three different people with different pasts and interactions with Amelia, to provide their own input on their time with her, and thus help her rediscover her past…

…Or, at the very least- Come to terms and accept who she is, and finally move on. And, it goes without saying that Amelia’s dilemma with her huge number could be complicated by her Alzheimer’s, if she can’t remember things- And it’d be interesting to see how it might fluctuate, if at all. Perhaps Amelia’s progress actually gets pretty good, but THEN the memory loss begins to kick in, and that frustrates her. It’d teach the lesson that progress is not linear, that sometimes you might backtrack, you might think you’re so close, only to have retread the same path… And sometimes you’re tired of the journey and just want to get to the destination, to the final stop at the end of the railroad. We could have Amelia learn to accept help from others, to not try and seize control for herself as all-powerful Conductor, to gain some humility amidst her pride in her own ability and intellect…

We could have Amelia awkwardly navigate the train without her memories, stumbling across and slowly figuring out what needs to be done in order to lower her number, with just the number’s movement as an indicator, and no memories to work off of! Her only hints are whenever her number moves to a certain situation, so Amelia really has to work backwards… Through trial and error, figure out what needs to be done; Perhaps a callback to Grace and Simon, who had no guidance and struggled with figuring out what their numbers expected of them.

It’d be an interesting book-end to THAT point, especially since it was Amelia who unknowingly contributed to Grace misinterpreting the function of her number, so then having Amelia rectify this with herself, learning to properly figure out what her number means, and then accepting that without going into denial like Simon did… It’d really show the growth of her, but also the series, and of course the fact that Grace and Simon were literal kids, and Amelia is a seasoned adult. And of course, there’s the existential questions, if Amelia is a different person without her memories, if those sins still apply if she can’t remember them anymore, if she’s essentially disconnected and detached, etc.

We might see Amelia operate without any memories of her grief with Alrick, see how she is without that- And it might concern and frustrate Amelia, because she could conflate moving past Alrick, as being the same as getting rid of him truly… And the memory loss certainly doesn’t help. Who is she without her memories? It could lead to an identity crisis that echoes back to Book 2’s themes. Amelia without memories might learn to rediscover herself by looking into her past, perhaps existing without recollection, just this number she slowly figures out how to lower. Perhaps having a new, more detached/objective look at her own past, from a perspective as someone who doesn’t remember them, so it feels like the recollections of a stranger- It might contribute to Amelia really coming to terms with happened, with herself, and finally Acceptance.

It really could be the culmination of the series; With how the age of protagonists for each Book gets progressively older, Amelia’s elderly age and Alzheimer’s would’ve been the end of the line, the final stop/destination for the train. It’d make Amelia the central Passenger of the show, who we’ve been following since Book 1, watching her progress, in a sense seeing her grow up- And then finally seeing her grow old and suffer from Alzheimer’s. The journey of the Infinity Train could be the journey of Amelia, from her boarding the train, to the final destination, literally and figuratively. It could tie into the arcs of Hazel, Samantha, and One-One, and finally deconstruct the Infinity Train with an outsider who did exactly like that!

What do you guys think? I think it’d be quite the experience to watch Amelia grow and struggle as a person, so it really does feel personal and intimate to us, when we know her memories, only for Amelia herself to lose them... A fascinating, bittersweet study and journey of Amelia, but one we accept, because the journey made the destination worthwhile.

#infinity train #infinity train amelia #amelia hughes #infinity train hazel #infinity train one one #infinity train samantha #samantha the cat #speculation #theory #meta #infinity train book 8 #owen dennis #alzheimer's

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4 of my oc fic. I took a bit longer with this one, mostly because I was just staring at it, wondering what to say at this point. Not a lot about Thea, yet, but I am giving canon characters a footing for asking more questions about Thea in the future. There is a reason why Solara doesn’t tell a lot yet, but it’ll be revealed little by little, that I promise. Still a lot of emotional denial on her part, yes, we’re still at that point.

Thank you for reading! And I am happy to answer any questions or critique that you might have ^_^

Keep in mind that this work will have mature content in it, so reader discretion is advised.

Word count: 5083

Chapter 4

Morning. Another morning dawned, making Solara’s eyes flutter open. Do I have to? She asked herself as she still felt the weight of her eyelids from last night, but fully well knowing the answer to her question as well. So, she sighed and sat up, not daring to stay lying in bed any longer, in fear of falling back to sleep. It was only her second day with the squad and there was so much to be done, so much to catch up to. And she didn’t want to be the newest addition, who slept in right before having to actually start working.

She got up, got dressed and brushed her hair, still tucking her pendant under her clothes and started making her way out of the door. But she was struck with a sensation of having forgotten something and stopped in her tracks. Her gaze went around the room, before landing onto a cape.

She sighed to herself. I can’t believe I almost forgot. I wore it yesterday, but suppose it still hasn’t grown in on me. She made her way to the red piece of fabric and swung it around her shoulders, taking a last glimpse of herself from the mirror as her hair draped over the vermillion braids attached on the front side of it. I wonder what’s the story behind these? She thought while her fingers fumbled with the braids before shrugging and turning away to leave, while her mind immersed itself with the tasks to be completed for the day.

She took out the list of matters that would require her immediate attention, giving it a quick read through as her feet carried her towards the mess hall. A sigh escaped her as she could already feel exhaustion weighing her down, for she knew that today wasn’t going to be easy. I wonder if I can do this right? Well, I mean, this is what I’m expected to do at home as well. And this is something that I have done… at home… But that is precisely what makes it difficult. Or one of the things. I can’t just get caught up in trying to learn the appropriate terminology in this language, but I have to take into account that all the practises that I’m used to, don’t apply here. So, even if something is given, I should regardless, most likely, still check it up with Randal…

She was woken from her thought by a cheerful voice calling out to her: “Solara aneue!”

Her eyes landed on Leo, who waved to her with a bright smile on his face. She folded the paper back into her pocket as a smile tugged her lips. “Morning Leo,” she greeted with slightly less enthusiasm as he had, but all things given, was to be expected.

“Morning!” He flashed her a grin before continuing, “we’ll continue the story tonight, right?” His entire being oozed excitement as they met in a crossing of two hallways, which eventually would lead to the mess hall.

“Of course,” she replied with a pause of her own, “as long as we don’t get to it quite as late as yesterday,” she smiled.

“Sure!” he exclaimed as they continued their way forward.

A brief silence fell between them as there was something Solara wished to ask him, but wasn’t quite sure how to do so. Which eventually lead to her deciding to ask it just how it was, without tip toeing around it, even if it might’ve been something obvious in this kingdom. “Leo? Can I ask you something?” she inquired, giving him a gentle gaze.

“Hm? Sure thing aneue,” he flashed her with an energetic smile, clearly focusing on her.

“What does ‘aneue’ mean?” She tilted her head with an apologetic smile as his eyes turned to her.

He blinked before his eyes shifted to the floor, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “Well… it means ‘big sister’…” he mumbled, as if he had only then realized calling her such. “I just thought that you are very sisterly so I… but I can stop if you don’t want me to call you that,” he stated, a bit more firmly this time, as if to assure her of his statement.

“Leo,” Solara began, as the apology left her expression and reassurance took its place. “I’d be honoured if you call me ‘big sis’,” she continued, making the young lion’s face light up.

“Really?!” he exclaimed without a moment of hesitation, to which Solara only nodded. “I’m so glad! Mereo aneue is lucky to have made a friend like you, and so am I since you’re my friend too. And I’m sure that aniue would like you too!” Leo started pouring his thoughts out without a care in the world, but Solara could feel her heart skipping a beat at the mention of his brother.

The hell is going on with me? I really should get myself checked, since this can’t be normal. I can’t- I don’t even know him! Yes, I keep telling myself that, but it’s true. There is absolutely no reason for me to-

“Solara aneue?” Leo’s voice pierced through her thoughts once more.

“Yes?” She asked with a smile, which was met with a frown on Leo’s complexion.

“Is everything okay?” His tone sounded worried, too much so for her liking, as he shouldn’t be worrying for her.

“Yes, everything is fine,” she assured him, but saw no difference in his expression. “I’m just a little… apprehensive, since I’ll be starting the work with Randal today and there’s a lot to consider.” She admitted; her statement being truthful, though not the reason for her distracted behaviour.

“I’m sure you can do it! Mereo aneue wouldn’t have given you the job if you couldn’t!” He cheered, making Solara let out a small chuckle.

“Thank you, Leo,” she smiled. “I have no reason to doubt that, as it’s not a completely new territory for me. But given that there are so many similarities, is precisely what makes it difficult, since I might not even realize that I’m deviating from the norm.”

Leo listened intently to her explanation, eyes wide open, as they reached their destination. “Were you in a magic knight squad before coming here too?” He asked through the chatter of the room as they made their way to the dining table.

“No,” she replied. “Thea doesn’t have magic knight squads per se, even if each of the noble Houses have their hands tied in certain aspects of the government. It’s just that since the Equinoxes and Eclipses have always worked closely with the Royal House, that I’ve been schooled to attend such matters. Though nowadays it’s only the Equinoxes. With the assistance of the rest of the noble houses.” Her explanation continued as they sat down, tension building in her stomach. I can’t say a lot more. Yes, I’ve already been shown a lot of trust on their, which is why I can tell this much, right? Yes. I’m sure that it’s fine. After all, it’s given that building relationships with other nations is relies on interactions and… trust… I have no right to show them distrust. The tug of guilt contested with the built-up tension as she tried to keep a straight face. I just haven’t disclosed this much already this early on. Though technically I’ve known Mereo for some time already, even if it’s a matter of weeks. And I’ve been told that I’m too apprehensive.

She smiled to Leo, who was quick to inquire more: “So you’re royal too?” He asked, enthusiasm clear from his tone.

“No, no. That title is reserved only to the Queen and her family,” she replied, the corners of her mouth staying as they were. Yeah, I should open up more. And I- I want to trust them. So, I suppose I can tell them, as long as it’s within the confines of the law.

“But nobility nevertheless?” Solara turned to look at Randal who was taking a seat beside her.

“Yes,” she replied, but as she saw Randal’s expression, she realized how she had been inconsiderate.

“May I ask why you didn’t mention it before?” His question was more than reasonable, making her gaze shift from him momentarily.

“Well, quite frankly, I thought of it to be of little significance. After all, if I’m here as a member of the squad, I want to be recognized as myself. The status of being noble is only a small part of who I am, and I don’t want that to be the defining factor of my being. So, I didn’t think much more of it.”

A small pause fell between them as they gazed at each other, Randal giving her a nod. “Titles can be burdening, so I can understand your reasoning, but still I would’ve liked to know.” His tone was laced with sadness as he looked away, a slight frown decorating his expression.

Solara opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

“What does it matter if she’s nobility or not? I don’t go rubbing my titles into people’s faces.” Mereo stated while taking a seat by the table, raising her eyebrow and giving a stern look to Randal’s direction. “The strong are strong, and the weak are weak. It’s as simple as that and titles have nothing to do with it,” she continued, making Randal swallow.

“But it bears similar connotations as not telling one’s name, does it not? Or giving a false one. Which can make a person feel betrayed,” Solara remarked, giving Mereo a smile, who stayed quiet for a moment.

“Isn’t that statement against yourself?” she asked, pointing out the contradiction.

“Yes,” Solara admitted, “but while I agree with your statement of a title not being an indicator of strength, or their character for that matter, I can also understand why my actions can be seen as hurtful. I didn’t intend it as such, but...” she sighed, “but that’s what I did.” She looked at Mereo, who only nodded, before turning to Randal. “And I apologize for it,” she said, meaning every word.

Randal gave her a small smile as he replied: “It’s all forgiven and forgotten, Lady Equinox.”

Solara grinned at the mention of her title, letting out a small chuckle. “Just ‘Solara’ is fine, as it has until now.” They shared a glance and turned their attention to breakfast, Leo looking as if he was about to ask more, but was told by Mereo, rather forcefully, to eat. Solara’s lips tugged into a smile as she saw the display of sisterly affection, even if it was given in a way that was more than characteristic to Mereo.

This really does feel like home… So, I’ll- I’ll treat it as one, and I’ll put my faith in them. Within the realms of what I am allowed to say and reveal, as I still have a duty to my people as well. I can’t just go around doing quite as I please, and the regulations are there for a reason. A good reason. But just as I’m curious about them, they’re curious about me and my culture. It’s given, but it seems that I’ve been blind to it. And I’ve really only been passing through countries until now… or then they’ve been Ally Countries, so they know about us already. This, this is completely new to me. To be welcomed into a new nation like this, and… she bit down her molars, trying to conceal it as her chewing down her food. And I’m giving these impressions… And they’re rightful impressions in the sense that I really am not revealing everything. But then again, who would? There are things that they won’t tell me, which is only smart of them. But I’m glad. I’m glad that I’ve found people such as these. She smiled as she let her gaze wander around the room, the happy faces and the continuous flow of conversation.

---

“Could you start by revising these documents?” Randal asked while handing Solara a list of the files.

She let her gaze dance over the lines for a moment before replying: “Yes, of course.” She paused as her eyes lifted from the paper. “Something I forgot to ask yesterday.”

“Hm?” Randal uttered, letting Solara ask her question.

“You showed me the archives, but I can’t recall being told where I’ll be working,” Randal blinked at her remark, gears turning in his head as he gazed to the ceiling.

“This was a sudden change of events,” he sighed. “But I suppose, for now, you could use the Captain’s office. If it suits Captain Mereoleona, of course,” he paused as his eyes feel back down. “If not, I’ll think of an alternative solution, or then we just need to prepare an office quickly. Though, that we’d need to do soon in any case,” he shrugged, an action to which Solara joined.

“I don’t mind either way, but if Mereo allows it, I can do these in her office while waiting for being supplied with my own,” she stated while lifting the document in her hand slightly upwards.

Randal gave her a nod before bidding her off and heading to his own office to start his own work for the day.

Solara made her way to the Captain’s office, not too far from Randal’s, and knocked on the door even if she couldn’t feel the flutter of Mereo’s mana anywhere nearby. There was no reply, but still Solara stood in place for a moment. I suppose she’s out taking care of more pressing matters… She thought while opening the door and discovering the room exactly as she had left it the day before. Well… I can’t say that I’m surprised. She smirked to herself while closing the door and heading for the archives to retrieve the necessary files for the tasks at hand.

---

Solara tapped her fingers against the wooden surface of the mahogany desk as she let out a sigh. It really has been a while huh, the thought weighed her as she felt the pressure in her chest, as frustration was trying to break free from her. This used to be second nature to me. Or well, not exactly. But I used to be more efficient than this. I really am not making mother proud at the moment, nor myself for that matter… Though suppose it’s understandable. It’ll take time to get myself back on a roll with this. She lifted a cup of tea onto her lips and took a sip. The amber coloured liquid warmed her bones, melting away some of the tension in her.

It was really nice of Gareth to bring me tea. She smiled to herself. Everyone is being so kind. It seems like this squad is a kind of a family where everyone is seen as their own people. As individuals and not ‘just’ members of a squad. I think I’ll really enjoy it here. She leaned back in the chair with the cup in hand, her head resting against the soft lining. The scent of lavender lingered around her again, bringing her a sense of comfort that she couldn’t remember knowing before. She could feel her eyelids closing as the feeling of being at peace wrapped around her, as if a warm blanket on a cold winter’s day. Her grip of the cup loosened, as she took a deep breath and let out a hum. But before she was overtaken by the sweet cradling of gentle sleep, her eyes cracked open, only to see the still remaining tea in the cup nearing the edge of the tilted piece of porcelain. She regained her composure just in time. “[Really? Now I’m spilling my drinks as well. Almost. That’s just great…]” she mumbled sarcastically in Thean, right before the door opened.

Mereo walked in an raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you say something?” She asked, even if certain that she had heard Solara mumbling under her breath.

“Hm? Ah, yeah, it was…” she paused and set the cup back onto the table. “Nothing important. I was just mumbling out my frustration. That’s all,” she sighed and glanced at Mereo who closed the door on her way in, giving her a nod.

“I’ve never been a fan of pushing pencils, so I’d be doing more than just mumbling it out,” she smirked while crossing her arms and walking over to the desk.

Solara chuckled with a veil of tiredness over her tone, but giving Mereo a genuine smile afterwards as she felt the twitch of the last threads of frustration being unspun from her. “Oh, I can believe that,” she smirked right back, making them let out a small chuckle in unison.

“Anyways,” Solara began, her tone settling back to a more serious one. “Do you mind if I work here while they’re setting up an office for me?” She looked at her friend, who let out a shrug.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I’ll be spending a lot of time here, so there’s no hurry.” Solara felt her eyebrow tugging at the statement, but brushed it off quickly as she knew Mereo. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you,” Mereo’s tone lowered as if weighed down by gravity, as heavy clouds settled into the room and her gaze fell to the crimson carpet.

“Yes?” Solara frowned as worry crept to her, the feeling of restlessness tangling to it, eating her insides.

“There’s something that needs my attention, more than the Crimson Lion Kings at this time. They just appointed me as a captain of the squad, but things have been brewing for longer than they should’ve. Things that should’ve been dealt with yesterday, but,” Mereo sighed, her gaze lifting to meet Solara’s. “That’s what you get when you leave men unattended,” Mereo’s statement was stern and unwavering, the seriousness of which both amused and affirmed Solara.

“And now they’re sending you to set things straight?” She laughed while giving Mereo a smirking smile.

“That’s precisely what they’re doing, and not a moment too soon,” Mereo smirked back, before her smile faded from her face. “But I’m planning on getting even and making them pay for what they did to Fuego,” her worry dripped from her syllables, even if only for a passing second. But it was quickly replaced by a stern expression, nothing else, as all the fearless Lioness knew, was to move forward. Despite having a roaring ocean of emotions beneath the surface of her ocean blue eyes, a feeling of sorrow, that was an emotion she couldn’t summon forth.

“So, you need me to stay here?” Solara asked, hoping to pull Mereo from the sea of turmoil. The pair of ocean eyes turned to Solara.

“I need you to keep the cubs in check while I’m gone,” the statement flowed from Mereo, and yet still inflicted gravity and implore that twisted Solara’s heart.

“If that is what you want. Though they could probably get by even without me,” Solara smiled, her eyes radiating compassion, which made Mereo give a subtle smile to her direction.

“Ha,” Mereo scoffed. “They were years without having a woman looking after them, and look where that got them. Ranking fifth in the Star Festival… Never has the squad been humiliated like that before,” Mereo’s tone grew graver, as her eyes lit up with irritation.

“I’ll do my best,” Solara affirmed, hoping to shift the conversation to other things. Mereo only nodded to the statement, letting out a sigh and pausing for a moment.

“I’m taking the squad out for training tomorrow to the strong magic region. They all could use a proper training session.” Solara blinked at Mereo’s statement in surprise, but her expression was soon washed over by relief.

“First thing in the morning then?” She asked, her lips tugging upwards. But Mereo’s eyes shifted away from her once more, even if only momentarily.

“Actually, I was hoping that you could stay here and look after, the base.” There was a small pause in Mereo’s statement, telling Solara that it wasn’t the base itself that Mereo was concerned about, but rather who laid there.

A veil of melancholy cascaded over her complexion as she felt the golden strings of fate clenching her heart while empathy pulled it down to her stomach, the tugging, twisting and squeezing made her feel slight nausea. But she forced the softest smile she possibly could, onto her lips as she simply replied: “Of course.” A trace of relief was cast onto Mereo’s face as she smiled and nodded to Solara. The action making Solara’s condition ease, even if for a tiny bit, but it didn’t remove the weight in her chest. Solara, just as Mereo, was still bound by worry.

She worries so much for her brother, and… so do I, even if- Worrying for another isn’t a bad trait, no, but I- I have felt others’ sorrows as mine, but this isn’t like that. This… this is worry of my own, and I know, I know I keep telling myself that, but I have no reason to feel like this. Do I, do I have a right to feel like this? Solara interrupted her train of thought and directed a question to Mereo: “Are you going out with the squad today already, or tomorrow perhaps?” A hint of gratitude for not getting caught up with her worry passed through Mereo’s eyes as her posture straightened back to the epitome of strength and determination that it usually was.

“Yes. Though there’s a couple of others I need to collect before heading out,” Mereo smirked as if training in the strong magic region would’ve been a game.

“In that case, I’ll keep the base standing until you come back,” Solara grinned, making Mereo scoff amusedly.

“See that you do,” Mereo remarked before heading off and leaving Solara alone with her thoughts once more.

It’s not like I don’t want to watch after his brother. It’s not like I… wouldn’t, want to, ta-ke, care, of him…The admission was forced, but a truthful one. And yet her jaw clenched. I do want to. And it’s important for Mereo as well, so suppose there’s no issue… She sighed and continued with her work, but her mind drifted off from the world of legislation and documentation each time the smell of lavender reached her.

---

Evening had already started to fall and the base was quiet. Not a sound pierced through the shadows as Solara gazed outside into the distance. The squad still hadn’t returned, but given where they had gone, it was no surprise. And though Solara had wished to get better acquainted with everyone, being able to spend a quiet evening all by herself wasn’t a cause of complaint for her.

She had made herself dinner, filling the kitchen with a faint humming of a tune and the smell of food, feeling grateful of the fact that she had learned the basics of cooking despite her noble upbringing. Though, she had to admit that she wouldn’t have done so if her mother hadn’t advised her to know such a skill. After all, if she wished to immerse herself into other cultures, it was more than useful to be able to converse with all citizens and not just with those of a distinct bloodline. And thus, knowing at least the very basics of some domestic tasks would give an easy starting point for some friendly conversation. But as she was alone at the time, there was no conversation to be made. There was only her and the subtle flutter of a candle next to her, as she let herself tune out from the world, and enjoy the serenity of the moment.

She exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of her eyelids, and straightened her posture. I suppose I should start turning in for the night, she thought as she let her eyes wander around the room, and checking that everything was cleaned and put back in place. I think it’s all as it should. Her brows furrowed slightly as she thought, but shrugged as nothing surfaced, and made her way out of the room; the soft glow of the candle lighting her way. Shadows bounced around the walls before being driven away by the fluttering flame, as she travelled down the twists and turns of the hallways.

A quiet hum escaped her once more, making the soft melody echo around her, only to quiet down as she reached the door of the sick room. Solara stopped, her hand on the handle, feeling her brow twitch slightly as she felt a weight in her chest. There is no reason for me to knock. He’s in a coma, so he won’t reply. She sighed. But it also feels wrong to just enter without a knock. Well, as long as I’m alone, nobody will know about me knocking the door of an unconscious person. So, she gave the door a small knock before entering. The sound of wood moving against stone and metal pierced through the air, the sound seeming more prominent now that everything else was quiet. Every single one of them. Every sound, every word, every action, they were heightened by the frozen time. It was just the two of them. Even if she would have to do all the talking. Talking? Well, I do believe Selena when she said that coma patients can hear sounds around them… Though the question of being able to remember them after waking up is entirely different. She thought before closing the door.

“Good evening,” she greeted, letting the words flow from her, gentle as a spring stream. A smile rose to her lips as warmth cascaded over her entire complexion. “I thought that I should check up on you, though I can’t do a lot.” She made conversation as she placed the candle onto the nightstand next to the bed, and moved a chair a bit closer. “But I hear that the doctor… um.. what was his name again?” She hummed while trying to recall the name, feeling slight frustration as names sadly weren’t her strong suit. “Owen…? I believe it was Owen. But in any case, he’s coming tomorrow to check up on you. I hope that you’re doing better.”

Silence fell between them as she thought, wondering if she should say what she wanted to say. “And... I, um,” she swallowed as her gaze fell to the side for a moment. “I would very much like to meet you, so that you’re awake, I mean. So, I do hope that you’ll wake up soon. … That sounds a bit selfish, doesn’t it?” She let out a nervous chuckle, taking a deep breath right after. “But I do hope that you’re still in there, and slowly, but surely, making your way back. … Your family and friends, your squad mates, they’re all worried about you. And I can tell that they miss you a lot, Leo especially. So, I hope that you don’t mind me reading to the both of you in the future,” she laughed, the corners of her mouth remaining upwards. “But no story tonight, after all, we couldn’t have Leo missing out, now could we? Though you already know the story, so suppose you don’t mind.”

Silence fell back into the room as she sat there, quietly, just watching his tranquil state. And even if you did mind, you wouldn’t be able to say… Her expression fell with the thought, bringing the veil of melancholy over her complexion again. “But I trust that you don’t. Or, the very least, that I’d be told by your near and dear if you did.”

Near and dear… she again felt the tug of the strings around her heart, wanting to feel included. Wanting to just give in to the burning wish of just laying her emotions bare, but instead turned her head away in retaliation. Stop it. You’re just being selfish. Yes. That’s what this is. Selfish, unreasonable and illogical. Well, those are all human characteristics and we all have those moments, but That Is Not The Point! The point is that you can’t. Alright? … Just take a deep breath, wish him good night, and be on your merry way. It’s nothing more than a crush. It’s nothing more than a crush.

She stood up and moved the chair away, the echo of her steps being the only sound in the room until she stopped to take the candle. She felt a small kiss of frost from the cold that radiated through the window, as her hand drew closer, guiding her gaze outside. It’s going to be a cold night, or relatively cold at least… She turned her head to Fuego, and to his blanket, that was pulled only up to his elbows, a slight frown raising to her face. I know that you’re a fire mage, but… I- I don’t want you to catch a cold, she sighed and grabbed the edge of the blanket. It was thin, but on most nights would have served the occasion.

She pulled the soft fabric further over him, slouching a bit over him. Her fingers brushed against him, making warm shivers course through her body as she felt blush rising to her cheeks. And by the time, she had pulled the blanket to his collarbones, she could feel her hands trembling slightly. Calm down… she thought to herself as the smell of lavender flew to her through the air as she hovered over his torso, her head much closer to his than ever before. She swallowed as she straightened her posture and closed her eyes.

This should suffice, she thought as turned to collect the candle from the table, focusing on containing her beating heart. Calm down. It’s nothing. This’ll pass. It’s just a… temporary state of insanity caused by … a very intense crush. Her eyelids fell for a moment as she inhaled, allowing herself one final glimpse of him for the day.

“Good night,” she whispered with a gentle smile that contested the first soft rays of morning light, before turning to leave. The golden strings kept a hold of them, imploring her to turn back around, but with the promise of coming back to read for him, the promise of return; the violent twisting and clenching that had been before, was dispelled. Only the silent whisper, asking her stay nearby and visit once more, lingered in the air. And though Solara didn’t notice it, she wore a bright smile all the way back to her room, where it only faded once she was in deep sleep.

#embers of sun and flame #black clover fanfiction #oc; Solara #chapter 4 #fuegoleon x solara #fuelara

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mmisery · 5 years ago

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If that really was Randall's birth mom I'm so confused/curious as to how she ended up with the nice Vietnamese grandpa. So crazy theory time!

Theory 1: Laurel gets locked up after her OD and she never gets a chance to know what happened with Randall and William. When she gets out she's scared to just pop back up in their lives unannounced since it's been years at this point and she made William promise to make him a family and she doesn't want to mess that up. Possibly she ends up in a small town where she meets that man who's head over heels for her and she decides to stay. They're happy but and he loses her far too young to disease or cancer but he never forgets her keeping pictures up even in his older age.

Theory 2: Laurel goes to the hospital after her OD and she spends a couple days there until she's released. She goes home and finds both Randall and William gone with no one knowing where they are. Depending on how long William was gone because of his grief it could have been weeks. And with both Erv and Grace locked up she had no one and probably no job anymore. She picks a place at random to start over still overcome with pain at the unknown. She's still fighting her drug addiction everyday but when a new guy she meets smiles at her and keeps insisting he cook for her over time she falls for him. They're probably together for a long while when she finds out news about Randall or William from an old friend. She promises to come back but he never hears from her again. Perhaps something tragic happened on the way. Randall most likely and unknowingly moments from meeting his birth mother in the past.

Theory 3: Laurel gets out the hospital and finds William has had their son adopted by another family. She's distraught when he tells her. But with their past drug use and no income she knows everything is stacked against them getting Randall back. Maybe all the fight is out of her after so much loss and with William technically keeping his promise to 'make him a family' she decides to let things be as they are. But it's too hard to stay with William and she break up with him. William is hurt after thinking he lost her then losing her all over again. When Rebecca comes to him he leaves out him knowing she's alive since it brings up a lot of pain and he has no idea where she is or even if she's still alive at that point anyway. Laurel starts a new life and a new love never forgetting the past but living with it. Maybe she gets pregnant again and is scared but happy for another chance thinking about Randall mournfully. This son will actually get a room with a window and she's proud they can give him that. She doesn't survive labor the second time being tougher than her first. Her boyfriend/husband is so distraught but he makes it through raising their child alone and they give him a grand daughter who's curious about the women in the photos she'll one day come to find out is grandma. Meaning Randall has a half-sibling and another niece out there besides Kate and Kevin's future daughters. So it won't be like Nicky because they'll find out she passed but they'll be shocked Randall has more relatives in the world.

#randall pearson #laurel #william hill #this is us #beth pearson #rebecca pearson #jack pearson #theories #mmposts #this is us spoilers

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reunioninn · 4 years ago

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1 3 and 8!

1. Which characters count as part of the Layton family?

thats pretty simple tbh. flora, katrielle, and alfendi are all hershels kids but i like to think he treats luke like his own too :) theres also desmond obviously since theyre related but also emmy is technically related to him too so shes family as well!!!

3. What does Randall do after the events of MM?

im pretty sure you and i know exactly what he did lol 😏 we're the top ranlay blogs

realistically speaking though, i think he took the time to settle down and adapt to living in monte d'or with henry and angela. i like to believe that he carried on the masked gentleman stunts to attract tourism, but obviously his miracles were nowhere near as dark and sinister. i also like to think he traveled to london to visit hershel a few times, since hes always wanted to go there since he was young

8. What’s Hershel like as a teacher?

listen. i know hes a good teacher. probably the fairest and most polite college professor anyone could possibly ask for

yknow, when hes actually there

i think his lectures are very informative and he always has a new story to tell for how he came across each artifact in his posession, which really gets the class interested. i mean, its not every day you get to do ANY of the stuff hes accomplished

#asks #dysfunctionalnerd #professor layton

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love-little-lotte · 5 years ago

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My Ranking of Outlander Season 5 Episodes

Wow. This has been such a great season! It really felt fresh and well-made. It’s like we’re thrown back to earlier seasons, and I love it so much. The writing is a whole lot better; the direction is creative and new – but never to a point that it got dreary and boring; there is a significant amount of change that I really liked. Overall, a brilliant and amazing season.

I’ve done something like this from the previous season (click here, if you’re interested), and now I guess I’m doing it again! It’s a lot harder, though, because I really liked most of the Season 5 episodes. I even wish it was longer! Twelve episodes seemed so short. I wish we could back to earlier episodes when we have more than fifteen episodes for one season.

So, to start off my Droughtlander (ugh, I cry thinking about Season 6 – it seems so far away), this is my ranking of Outlander Season 5 episodes! Before I begin, let me just say that this is my opinion, so please be polite. No need to tell me that you prefer this over that because obviously, this is my ranking. Also, just so you know, I haven’t read The Fiery Cross. I’ve only read Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, and the first few chapter of Voyager. So, I may make mistakes about what happened in the books and such, since I only watch the TV show.

#12: Episode 3 - Free Will

Technically not a bad episode, but this is the one that I least liked out of all. It was a bit draggy, but definitely not boring. Nothing is boring when Jamie and Claire faces danger together!

So, in this episode, Josiah revealed that he has a twin named Keziah. They both escaped from the Beardsleys, who apparently abused the both of them. But without their right papers, the twins were not really free. So, of course, Jamie and Claire just had to save the day and take it upon themselves to go to the Beardsleys and pay for their indenture. Also, Jamie left Roger in charge while he’s gone. It’s funny to see Roger try to lead the men. It’s not his fault by all means – after all, this was not his time and he has zero knowledge how to lead these soldiers.

At the Beardsleys, Jamie and Claire found out that Mr. Beardsley was incredibly injured and at the brink of death, while Mrs. Beardsley was pregnant and admitted that she’s slowly torturing her husband because he used to physically abuse her. Claire helped Mrs. Beardsley give birth, only to find out that the baby was dark-skinned, which meant it wasn’t Mr. Beardsley’s child. The next morning, the missus was out of the house (wow, that recovery!), leaving her newborn baby in Jamie and Claire’s care. Jamie then faced a tough decision to euthanize Mr. Beardsley, who wanted his pain to end. Something tells me that this is going to be an important thing in the future...

#11: Episode 5 - Perpetual Adoration

Also not a bad episode, to be honest. In this episode, we get another flashback of Claire’s time in the 60s. This time, she’s seen treating a patient by the name of Graham Menzies. Sounds familiar? I’ve read that it’s a nod to Graham McTavish and Tobias Menzies – two of my favorite actors from the earlier seasons. Loved that reference to them; I also miss seeing them in this show! (But maybe Tobias as Frank because I could not, for the life of me, handle another Black Jack Randall shenanigan, even just in a flashback.) Well, this particular patient was actually Claire’s reason to finally go back to Scotland with Bree. It got a bit philosophical in the flashbacks, too! Also, Claire was able to make penicillin out of 18th century materials. Is there anything that this woman couldn’t do?

Jamie, on the other hand, was catching up with Lieutenant Knox, where the lieutenant told him that he’s going to pardon the Regulators, except Murtagh. This left Jamie no choice but to kill Knox – also because he has a list of Ardsmuir prisoners and as you all know, Jamie’s one of them. Pretty sad about Knox, though. He really trusted Jamie and he seemed like an okay guy. But he had to die!

Bree and Roger also had some problems in this episode. Roger finally found out about what happened with Stephen Bonnet and Bree before they tried to blew up the jail cell the previous season. Roger obviously (but not understandably hmpf) got mad but eventually changed his mind when Claire reassured him that it’s going to be all right. I’m not a big fan of Roger (let’s just get that out of the way), and his reaction in this particular episode. For the sake of drama, I guess.

Also, a new pet is in town! Adso finally made his first appearance at the end of this episode. He’s such a cute wee thing.

#10: Episode 2 - Between Two Fires

One of my favorite things in Outlander is when Claire flaunts her medical knowledge to the 18th century people. I love seeing their expressions, especially when they try to mentally calculate if this woman is a genius or a witch. Sadly, in this episode, there’s one patient Claire couldn’t save because it was too late. This seemed to unravel something in her. It’s devastating to lose a patient, especially when he/she could still be saved. But, even though she’s an expert healer, some people wouldn’t listen to her because she’s not an actual physician. So, Claire decided to make up “Dr. Rawlings.”

Also, I love that Claire picked Marsali as an apprentice! I really loved her character even from Season 3, and I was hoping to get more scenes with her in Season 4. But it was only in this season that her character shined brightly. Marsali was weirded out at first, obviously, but with Claire’s guidance, she’s good to go.

All away from Fraser’s Ridge, Jamie and Lieutenant Knox are fighting off Regulators. While confronting three prisoners, Knox lost his temper and accidentally killed one. At nightfall, Jamie helped the other two to escape. I love Jamie whenever he’s trying to be a hero and all, but sometimes, it just worries too much that he’s always stepping it up. Well, he’s the King of Men, I guess.

The ending of this episode was horrifying and intense because we see Stephen Bonnet, fully alive and plotting evil. I hate him so much, but Ed Speelers is an amazing actor.

#09: Episode 9 - Monsters and Heroes

Despite having this episode in the bottom part of the list, I just want to say that Sam Heughan was amazing in this episode. His acting was top-notch, and I find myself, once again, questioning the awards committee why they haven’t given him an award. Yes, give me more scenes of him writhing in pain!

This episode was highly intense, but it felt almost too draggy. Jamie and company were out hunting when they decided to split up. Jamie and Roger went together, and Jamie was bitten by a venomous snake. Roger tried to look for the others but to no avail. So they decided to camp for the night, in which Jamie told Roger that if he does not survive, it must be him who’s going to kill Stephen Bonnet for him.

Which absolutely no makes sense! Not the killing of Bonnet, but Jamie not surviving. He survived tons of other crap in his life, and I cannot believe he’s dying from a freaking snake. It just does not makes sense. Can you just imagine if he really died? Like a small snake ended Jamie Fraser’s life? It’s just heartbreaking.

The next day, Roger tried dragging Jamie with him while looking for the others. They were eventually found, and they brought him to Claire so she can fix him up. But not even Claire could even save him. The only thing she needs is her syringe, which was destroyed by friggin Lionel Brown (which, let me tell you, is the worst character to ever come out in this season). When Jamie found out his bite was way serious than he ever imagined, he told Claire to kill him instead of amputating his venom-filled leg, which broke Claire. Also, Caitriona Balfe’s acting during her conversation with Bree by the stairs was top-notch!

Jamie almost gave up that night, but with some intense body touching, Claire was able to bring him back to life. It was a touching moment, for sure. Get it? Anyway, it was Young Ian who told him to get a grip of himself – it’s just a leg. His father lost a leg and Fergus lost a hand, but they’re still happy and alive. Which I just want to applause to.

And when all hope seemed lost, it was our little engineer Bree who saved the day! She was able to form a syringe of her own using the tooth of the snake which bit Jamie. Through this, Claire was able to save Jamie’s leg. Yay!

#08: Episode 10 - Mercy Shall Follow Me

I know I’ve said I haven’t read The Fiery Cross yet, but I have read in tons of posts that the killing of Stephen Bonnet was not part of the aforementioned book; he actually met his demise in the next book. But whatever the reasons why they sped up the process, I want to thank the producers and writers for putting it here in this season. The Bonnet storyline was kind of losing touch and was getting draggy. I’d rather have them focus on new things in the next season.

Jamie, Roger, and Young Ian were putting their plot in motion to kill Bonnet through ambushing him when Bonnet himself failed to show up in the said ambush. That’s because he’s at the beach, following Claire and Bree as they were enjoying the ocean breeze. He eventually knocked Claire unconscious and kidnapped Bree.

Bree woke up to find herself in a dingy and shady place, but she was not kept as a prisoner – or so Bonnet tried to tell her. He told her he wanted to change and they even had this strange role play where they eat dinner and Bree told him the story of Moby Dick. We actually get to know Bonnet’s past in this episode. We learn that he’s deathly afraid of water, for one thing.

It seemed to go all right for Bree until Bonnet told her to kiss him, and when she did, he got the sense that she was faking and lo and behold, he was right. This angered him and even started having sex with a prostitute in front of Bree, which was downright disgusting. Anyway, Ed Speelers is a terrific actor!

Jamie and Claire finally find out where Bonnet’s hiding Bree through that prostitute to whom Bonnet was having sex with. Bonnet, fed up with Bree’s ridiculous antics, decided to sell her to a man. But before anything could happen, Jamie, Claire, Roger, and Young Ian were able to save her. Bree was given the choice to end Bonnet’s life, but she decided to give him a fair trial by the government. Bonnet was sentenced to death by drowning, but before he could even die, Bree shot him through the head in a distance. Roger asked her if this was what she wanted or if was to make sure he’s really dead, but Bree was silent, which leaves us to decide what that meant.

I’ve said this before: I wasn’t a fan of Sophie Skelton’s acting, but she definitely improved in this season! She was able to show some emotions and depth in her character. She was unable to convince me before, but she truly made an impact in this season.

#07: Episode 4 - The Company We Keep

Were you ready to see Jamie Fraser dancing in this episode? Because I sure as hell was not! It was such a delight to see him trotting about while he and Claire smile at each other.

But before we got to that scene, we had to watch Roger painfully lead the men to Brownsville (which is totally an insane and ridiculous name for a village – I know this was in the 18th century, but I hope there were poop jokes about them). Not a minute they stepped foot in this place, everything’s gone to chaos. It turns out Isaiah Morton, one of the men, had some problems with one of the guys in Brownsville. Isaiah apparently “disgraced” Lionel Brown’s daughter, Alicia, by sleeping with her, and now she cannot marry this rich guy her father arranged for her.

Jamie and Claire eventually caught up with them, and were able to free Isaiah by letting him escape and to never show his face there again. Claire finally found a new home for Mrs. Beardsley’s newborn baby in Brownsville, Jamie finally got the Brownsville men to join him in his militia to fight the Regulators, and everyone finally had a good time and partied all night long.

One of my favorite moments in the season was in this episode wherein Jamie told Claire that she looked happy while taking care of the newborn baby. He told her that she looked great as a mother, and it saddened me that he never got to see her as one. Jamie told her if she’s sure to give the baby away because maybe it’s their last chance to raise a baby together. Claire was like, “No,” but she appreciated the thought of it. They’re too old to have a baby again, and she already liked their life together. Even so, that was such a sweet moment for the both of them!

Isaiah decided to return to whisk Alicia away, and then she revealed she’s pregnant with his child. While this all seemed great for them, Jamie and Roger were not happy with Isaiah’s return because it might stir up some trouble. But Isaiah was able to convince them that he truly loved Alicia and wouldn’t they do the same thing for their wives. And that’s how it’s done!

#06: Episode 8 - Famous Last Words

A very unique and creative episode. I think I haven’t seen an episode quite like this before, and it’s such a breath of fresh air. I like what the concept of showing the events like a silent film in comparison to what Roger’s facing.

Richard Rankin was amazing in this episode. I think he really delivered well in showing Roger’s trauma and stress after his horrific ordeal. Roger is actually so beaten up in Outlander; it’s really devastating. Last season, he was taken by the Mohawks, and now this. And to think, he wasn’t a warrior or anything – he’s only an Oxford man.

Three months after the Battle of Alamance, Roger was still quiet and could not utter a word. Bree was worried about him, and confided to Claire about her roommate’s boyfriend who was shell-shocked after the Vietnam War. Meanwhile, Roger kept reliving his deathly experience in silence. Usually, I’m not a big fan of Roger (as I said earlier) but I feel bad for what his character has gone through.

Also, Young Ian finally came back in this episode! As someone who haven’t read the books, this took me by surprise. I didn’t know he’s returning, but I am so happy that he is! I really love his character. He’s not the same Young Ian as we’ve seen before, though. He was much more mature and fiercer. There are secrets he’s keeping from his family, which we’ll probably find out more in the next season.

It was actually Young Ian who made Roger speak up again (quite just like the way how he was the one who set Jamie straight when he was bitten by the snake). Ian was asked to help Roger check out some land, and the two of them bonded. Ian told him how lucky he was to have his wife and child with him, even though he was thoroughly beaten from the battle. Roger was alive with a family, and to Ian, that seemed to be everything. Roger, in return, also saved Ian from killing himself. I’d like to see more of this duo in the future, please.

#05: Episode 6 - Better To Marry Than Burn

As soon as the trailer for Season 5 dropped, I’ve heard the words “stable sex” more than once in forums. I didn’t know what it was about – only that involves Jamie and Claire having sex in a stable (obviously). So you could imagine my enthusiasm when I finally see a stable in this episode!

Before that, though, there is a party because Jocasta getting married to some guy who’s not Murtagh. Which is a total loss because I shipped them so hard! We also got to see some flashbacks with Jocasta losing her daughter because of her husband’s cause in the fight against the English long ago.

While mingling with some of the guests, Claire was approached by this ridiculous-looking man called Phillip Wylie, who’s beyond annoying. He flirted with her shamelessly, and she rejected his actions but was immediately interested when she realized he might be the key to capture Stephen Bonnet. But everything got out of hand when he suddenly tried to kiss her. Thankfully, Jamie arrived on time and was able to save her from this man.

But when Claire told him that he might be the answer to the Bonnet problem, Jamie decided to make a gamble with Wylie. Unfortunately, this involved Claire giving up Frank’s ring, which made her unbelievably mad. Later on, when Claire went back to the stables, Jamie drunkenly walked in. Claire’s still angry with him about the rings, but the anger doubled when she found out he was drunk. Jamie told her that he won the bet, and that they should celebrate. There were some fights, then Claire slapped him, and then they kissed and ta-da: stable sex!

Unfortunately, I had high hopes with what the stable sex was going to be and that was not it. I was expecting steamier scenes, but okay, I’ll take this one. It was hilarious, still.

Oh, I almost forgot. Back at Fraser’s Ridge, Bree and Roger fight some some sort of locusts evading the place, just like the ten plagues. But they were able to stop this through some smart science and shit. I couldn’t care less about their plot in this episode; all exciting things happen in River Run at the moment!

But the most heartbreaking thing that ever happened in this episode was Jocasta and Murtagh. The night before the wedding, Murtagh sneaked in Jocasta’s room and begged her not to marry Innes. This broke Jocasta, but still, she couldn’t just run away with Murtagh. She chose a man with a cause before, and she lost her daughter. This woman couldn’t take any heartbreaks anymore, and Murtagh left, heartbroken. And as you know, that would be their last conversation...

#04: Episode 12 - Never My Love

I thought we can go past one season without anyone getting raped, but here we are. I know this was included in the books, but there were so many changes from book to screen in this season – why couldn’t they changed this one? It was too heartbreaking and sad. I don’t know if it’s unnecessary, but I did read one article that said they could’ve just not included that part.

Anyway, this episode was absolutely harrowing and downright terrifying. This show does not shy away from brutal scenes like this, for sure. I am devastated for Claire because she obviously does not deserve that treatment! In her own words, she survived a World War and losing a child. She will not let this one destroy her. But, of course, Claire’s only human and she’s gone through deep trauma in this episode. It’s only fair for her to feel this way.

Lionel Brown (honestly, I hate this guy more than anyone in this season and that includes Stephen Bonnet) kidnapped Claire out of her own home with the help of some other guys, beat her senseless, and even raped her. This really “shookt” me out of my core. It didn’t ruin me like that season finale in Season 1 (which still haunts me to this day) but I am still horrified.

Also, this episode was really creative in showing Claire’s ordeal. It had dream sequences of Claire in 1960s with Jamie and their family celebrating Thanksgiving, with the exception of Bree, Roger, and Jemmy. It included a lot of Easter eggs, such as the vase from the pilot episode and the rabbit from Jamie’s dream in the Battle of Culloden (if I’m not mistaken...?) The production design was also very intricate. The attention to details is brilliant!

Jamie and his men were finally able to save Claire, but she felt ruined. They killed every men in the group, but it seemed like Lionel survived. They took him as a prisoner and brought him to Fraser’s Ridge. Claire was still mending her scars, but she found herself in her clinic with Lionel and Marsali. Yes, she took an oath to do no harm to other people, but do you really expect her to save him from his wounds after what he’s done to her? Hell no! It was too much for her to bear and so she left, crying. It was actually Marsali who ended Lionel’s life with her own hand. Ugh, I love Marsali this season! She was beyond amazing and I love how her character has grown.

This was surely an intense episode, and I love the additional twists of the dream sequence. Caitriona Balfe blew me away in this episode; just give her the Golden Globe and Emmy, please. The final shot of Jamie and Claire is beautiful. One of the best season finales of the show.

#03: Episode 1 - The Fiery Cross

Season 5 really started strong with this first episode. We had a wedding, dancing, sex, singing, burning crosses, kilts, babies! I love it so much!

Finally, Bree’s getting married to Roger, and her parents are here to see it! It’s a wonderful moment for everyone. I am in love with Bree’s dress and the pearls she’s wearing (which her mother wore in her honeymoon sex with her father, let me just add). The wedding was sweet and lighthearted.

But, of course, this is Outlander and we’re not here to have a good time – there’s always something we’re fighting off. In the very first episode, Lord John Grey confided in Jamie that Stephen Bonnet might be alive, which Bree overheard. This was her wedding night, people, give her a rest! Of course, she was visibly shaken, but she kept the information to herself. Also, Tryon was pressuring Jamie to join forces with him and fight for The Crown.

In addition, there were a love-making montage while the L-O-V-E song was being played in the background. Out of place, for sure, but sweet nonetheless. Murtagh and Jocasta managed to sneak in the woods and have some time for themselves. Jamie and Claire were in charge with Jemmy for the night, but that didn’t stop them from getting some action themselves. And, of course, the married couple Bree and Roger finally had a proper honeymoon.

Remember when Tryon was pressuring Jamie to gather some men to fight for The Crown? Well, Jamie faced an impossible decision because obviously he does not want to hunt down his godfather Murtagh. But he can’t also betray Tryon because he doesn’t want to lose his land. And so, he finally gave in and lit the fiery cross, calling the men to fight with him. He included Roger, and even gave him the title of “Captain.” Weird flex, but okay.

This was entirely a good start for a good season. I even watched it twice when it first came out because I was so excited!

#02: Episode 11 - Journeycake

One of the best Outlander episodes, and this one totally made me cry. I hate goodbyes, but Outlander does it best. This episode was also written by the original author herself, Diana Gabaldon. My expectations were high, of course, and she definitely did not disappoint!

Now that Stephen Bonnet is gone and that they have confirmed that Jemmy can travel through the stones, there’s no reason for Bree and Roger to stay any longer. Bree has already delivered the cryptic message to her parents that they will die in the fire. So, she and Roger decided to leave, especially that there’s a Revolutionary War coming on.

Also, Young Ian finally knows about the truth about Claire, Bree, and Roger – they are time travelers from the future. About time, actually! He deserved to know the truth long time ago. But something’s weird: Ian actually wanted to go through the stones himself, too. I have no idea why, but it’s probably going to be about his time with the Mohawks (which I’m totally looking forward to know about in the next season).

Also, there’s a hot sex scene with Claire and Jamie in this episode, which totally makes up for that awkward, rushed stable sex from the other episode. It involved Jamie going down on Claire while she’s sitting by the window pane. It’s daring and steamy! Trust Diana Gabaldon to perfect that scene.

Before Bree and Roger leave, they said their goodbyes to everyone first. Marsali even admitted that she sees Bree as a sister, which breaks my heart, because they totally deserve more screen time together! Lizzie also tearfully said her goodbye to her mistress Bree, and it’s quite heartbreaking because all this time, she thought she’s coming along with them as well. Poor Lizzie.

Claire also made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as her last meal for Bree and Roger. I don’t know how she was able to make peanut butter and jelly with 18th century resources, but I do know that it was painstakingly hard so kudos to Claire for her dedication in making the perfect PB&J sandwich! Jamie’s reaction was totally hilarious, too!

When Bree and Roger finally left (but for some reason, they couldn’t go through the stones – more explanation maybe in the next season), Claire and Jamie were finally left alone in Fraser’s Ridge. While Claire and Marsali were tending on a patient, Jamie and some of his men checked out some commotion. However, this was only a ploy for Lionel Brown and his men to kidnap Claire straight from her home. It’s terrifying, and I didn’t like what happened next.

#01: Episode 7 - The Ballad of Roger Mac

The major highlight of the season! I was ready to get hurt in this episode, but damn, nothing prepared me for what was about to happen.

The whole episode reminded me of the Prestonpans episode from Season 2. Jamie was fighting with his men in the Battle of Alamance, while Claire was tending the patients. Ah, but before that, let’s celebrate Jamie Fraser’s fiftieth birthday! I don’t know how this guy is 50, but he is. He and Claire *cough* did some celebrating of their own before shit went down in the fight.

While all the others were preparing for the fight, Bree was staying with Aunt Jocasta when she finally realized that the fight was going to take place in Alamance Creek. This made her remember an importance piece of history. The militia will win, and the Regulators will lose. Of course, she took it upon herself to warn her parents. Thankfully, Bree has inherited her mother’s memory cells.

Roger eventually volunteered to be the one to tell Murtagh and his men that they were doomed to fail, and Jamie let him. This was going on pretty smoothly, and Roger was able to tell Murtagh what he came for. Unfortunately, he ran into someone he knew (that woman he met in the ship from Season 4) and they were caught in a harmless innocent hug by the woman’s husband. The husband was none other than William Mackenzie, played by Graham McTavish! While it’s good to see him in the series again, I am pissed because they beat up Roger.

Meanwhile, Jamie was forced to wear a redcoat uniform, which was just downright offensive. Jamie’s entire life was dedicated to fighting off redcoats, and now he’s one of them. It truly broke my heart to see him like that. You just know he’s struggling and trying to keep his senses.

In the battle, Jamie was fighting with some Regulator when Murtagh himself showed up and saved him. There were some smiles; however, it was cut short when Murtagh was shot by one of Jamie’s militia men. Jamie tried to save him, and even dragged Murtagh back to Claire so she could save him, but it was all too late. And I am broken. I was crying when I was watching this episode, and it just broke me. Murtagh was one of my favorite characters, and I was so happy they brought him back last season. But now... I’m just broken. When the fight was over, Jamie took off the redcoat and just smashed it down in front of Tryon. This man was just fed up!

But while this was going on, Bree was worrying about Roger, as he still haven’t showed up after going to the Regulators. So, she, Claire, and Jamie tried looking for him. They finally came upon a tree with three men hanging on a tree with sacks over their heads; they were left to die. Jamie recognized Roger to be one of them because of the white handkerchief on his pocket that he had given to him earlier.

This was really a good episode, and hats off to Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe’s acting. They were superb. Oh, as well as Duncan Lacroix, who I really admired as Murtagh! It’s so sad to see him leave the show!

***

Well, there you have it! My ranking of Season 5 episodes. I hope you had as much fun as I did with Outlander this season. It was incredibly fun, and a huge improvement from previous season. Tell me what you think!

#outlander #outlander season 5 #caitriona balfe #sam heughan #sophie skelton #richard rankin #claire #jamie #bree #roger #outlander starz #outlander tv show #season 5

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girlactionfigure · 5 years ago

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A farmer's daughter, she was "born in White Sulphur Springs, W.Va., when Woodrow Wilson occupied the White House and rotary dial telephones were still brand-new," according to the Washington Post. Her mother was a former teacher and her father, aside from being a farmer, also worked extra jobs as a janitor. Her father, Joshua Coleman, had quit school after the sixth grade. But, "considered education of paramount importance for Katherine and her older siblings . . . Since the local schools only offered classes to African Americans through the eighth grade, he enrolled his children in a school that was 125 miles away from their home." "As an African American and a girl growing up in an era of brutal racism and sexism, [she] faced daily challenges. Still, she lived her life with her father’s words in mind: “You are no better than anyone else, and nobody else is better than you,” according to Junior Library Guild. “I don’t have a feeling of inferiority. Never had. I’m as good as anybody, but no better,” she said. "Career options for black women were limited at the time," according to the Charleston Gazette-Mail. After majoring in mathematics and French, she decided she "was going to be a math teacher, because that was it,” she said. “You could be a nurse or a teacher.” She married, left her teaching job and enrolled in a graduate math program, becoming the first African-American woman to attend graduate school at West Virginia University . When she got pregnant, however, she quit to focus on her family. In 1953, she accepted a job as a research mathematician. At a very young age, Katherine, says she counted everything. “I counted the steps. I counted the plates that I washed.” And, “I knew how many steps there were from our house to church.” In her job, she had to overcome racism and sexism, but she would eventually make a name for herself. In one of the most important projects, she would be called to verify some calculations. "Get that girl," astronaut John Glenn said. The rest is history. Katherine Johnson had arrived. Margot Lee Shetterly, author of "Hidden Figures: The Untold True Story of Four African American Women who Helped Launch Our Nation Into Space," stated, "So the astronaut who became a hero, looked to this black woman in the still-segregated South at the time as one of the key parts of making sure his mission would be a success." "For more than 30 years, [Katherine] Johnson worked as a NASA mathematician at Langley Research Center in Hampton, Va., where she played an unseen but pivotal role in the country’s space missions. That she was an African American woman in an almost all-male and white workforce made her career even more remarkable," according to writer Victoria St. Martin. "For many people, especially African Americans, her tale of overcoming racism and sexism is inspirational." "Her work was instrumental to some of NASA’s most important missions, including the flight of Alan Shepard, the first American in space, and the Apollo 11 and 13 missions to the moon," according to the Los Angeles Times. When Neil Armstrong took his first step on the moon in July 1969, many Americans did not know that Katherine Johnson had calculated the trajectory for the Apollo 11 flight to the Moon and was even given, along with her fellow team members, a souvenir flag that made the trip with Armstrong and his crew. She remained a "hidden figure", however, until Shetterly wrote her book, which eventually became the movie, “Hidden Figures”. Shetterly explained "the reason Johnson and her co-workers’ stories were 'hidden' was complex. Some of it was rooted in racism (the African American women were relegated to a separate office), some of it was sexism (calculations were considered “women’s work”), and some of it was simply that Johnson and her co-workers were wives and mothers as well as mathematicians." In 2015, Johnson was presented with the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Nation’s highest civilian honor - given to individuals who have made “especially meritorious contributions to the security or national interests of the United States, to world peace, or to cultural or other significant public or private endeavors.” President Obama noted, “Black women have been a part of every great movement in American history — even if they weren’t always given a voice.” Most will think of this in the context of the civil rights movement, where black women helped plan the March on Washington, but were largely absent from the program, or perhaps even in the fight for women’s rights, from suffrage to the feminist movement. Very few, however, may know the role that women, particularly women of color, have played as innovators and leaders in the domains of science and technology." "Johnson’s recognition by President Obama marks a proud moment in American history because until recently, Johnson’s critical technical contributions to the space race were largely unknown to the world. The contributions and leadership of countless scientific and technical women and people of color who have been tremendous innovators have been left out of American history books, unfortunately," according to Knatokie Ford, Senior Policy Advisor at the Obama White House Office of Science & Technology Policy. In 2016, a new building was named after Katherine Johnson at the Langley Research Center in Hampton, Virginia, then renamed the Katherine Johnson Independent Verification and Validation Facility in 2019. “I am thrilled we are honoring Katherine Johnson in this way as she is a true American icon who overcame incredible obstacles and inspired so many,” Jim Bridenstine, the administrator of NASA, said. The New York Times said that Johnson's fight for equality in the workplace increased awareness and called her a trailblazer. "Johnson was integral to developing human spaceflight in America," according to Scientific American. She was "an unstoppable force and a role model to young African-American women." Johnson, Shetterly said, “has given us a way to shine a light on a lot of women who have not been talked about. None of these women really got the recognition they deserved and .?.?. now an entire group of women are being recognized for the work that they did.” "Her father’s determined effort to send his children to school and her own resolution to pursue her dreams overcame race and gender discrimination and led to an extraordinary life of personal fulfillment and professional achievements," according to Visionary Project. Johnson, born on August 26, 1918, turned 101 last year. She published her autobiography, “Reaching for the Moon,” for young readers last year. “I want young people to feel the same way when reading my story,” she said. “I want them to see that it doesn’t matter where you came from, what you look like or what your gender is. You’re no better or worse than anyone out there and there’s nothing you can’t do as long as you put your mind to it. You can be a doctor or a lawyer or even help put a person on the moon.” Katherine Coleman Goble Johnson remembers as a young girl when she had to travel to an area known for its racism. Her mother would warn her. Not afraid, young Katherine responded back, “Well, tell them I’m coming.” After "a half-century, six manned moon landings, a best-selling book and an Oscar-nominated movie," Katherine Johnson is no longer a hidden figure. [Photo from Makers]

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

#black history month #Katherine Johnson

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kemetic-dreams · 6 years ago

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Ibrahima & Abdoulaye Barry Written by Deborah BachAudio by Sara Lerner

How a new alphabet is helping an ancient people write its own future

When they were 10 and 14, brothers Abdoulaye and Ibrahima Barry set out to invent an alphabet for their native language, Fulfulde, which had been spoken by millions of people for centuries but never had its own writing system. While their friends were out playing in the neighborhood, Ibrahima, the older brother, and Abdoulaye would shut themselves in their room in the family’s house in Nzérékoré, Guinea, close their eyes and draw shapes on paper.

When one of them called stop they’d open their eyes, choose the shapes they liked and decide what sound of the language they matched best. Before long, they’d created a writing system that eventually became known as ADLaM.

The brothers couldn’t have known the challenges that lay ahead. They couldn’t have imagined the decades-long journey to bring their writing system into widespread use, one that would eventually lead them to Microsoft. They wouldn’t have dreamed that the script they invented would change lives and open the door to literacy for millions of people around the world.

They didn’t know any of that back in 1989. They were just two kids with a naïve sense of purpose.

“We just wanted people to be able to write correctly in their own language, but we didn’t know what that meant. We didn’t know how much work it would be,” said Abdoulaye Barry, now 39 and living in Portland, Oregon.

“If we knew everything we would have to go through, I don’t think we would have done it.”

ADLaM is an acronym that translates to 'the alphabet that will prevent a people from being lost.'

A new writing system takes shape

The Fulbhe, or Fulani, people were originally nomadic pastoralists who dispersed across West Africa, settling in countries stretching from Sudan to Senegal and along the coast of the Red Sea. More than 40 million people speak Fulfulde — some estimates put the number at between 50 and 60 million — in around 20 African countries. But the Fulbhe people never developed a script for their language, instead using Arabic and sometimes Latin characters to write in their native tongue, also known as Fulani, Pular and Fula. Many sounds in Fulfulde can’t be represented by either alphabet, so Fulfulde speakers improvised as they wrote, with varying results that often led to muddled communications.

The Barry brothers’ father, Isshaga Barry, who knew Arabic, would decipher letters for friends and family who brought them to the house. When he was busy or tired, young Abdoulaye and Ibrahima would help out.

“They were very hard to read, those letters,” Abdoulaye recalled. “People would use the most approximate Arabic sound to represent a sound that doesn’t exist in Arabic. You had to be somebody who knows how to read Arabic letters well and also knows the Fulfulde language to be able to decipher those letters.”

Abdoulaye asked his father why their people didn’t have their own writing system. Isshaga replied that the only alphabet they had was Arabic, and Abdoulaye promised to create one for Fulfulde.

“At a basic level, that’s how the whole idea of ADLaM started,” Abdoulaye said. “We saw that there was a need for something and we thought maybe we could fix it.”

The brothers developed an alphabet with 28 letters and 10 numerals written right to left, later adding six more letters for other African languages and borrowed words. They first taught it to their younger sister, then began teaching people at local markets, asking each student to teach at least three more people. They transcribed books and produced their own handwritten books and pamphlets in ADLaM, focusing on practical topics such as infant care and water filtration.

While attending university in Conakry, Guinea’s capital city, the brothers started a group called Winden Jangen — Fulfulde for “writing and reading” — and continued developing ADLaM. Abdoulaye left Guinea in 2003, moving to Portland with his wife and studying finance. Ibrahima stayed behind, completing a civil engineering degree, and continued working on ADLaM. He wrote more books and started a newspaper, translating news stories from the radio and television from French to Fulfulde. Isshaga, a shopkeeper, photocopied the newspapers and Ibrahima handed them out to Fulbhe people, who were so grateful they sometimes wept.

But not everyone was pleased by the brothers’ work. Some objected to their efforts to spread ADLaM, saying Fulbhe people should learn French, English or Arabic instead. In 2002, military officers raided a Winden Jangen meeting, arrested Ibrahima and imprisoned him for three months. He was not charged with anything or ever told why he was arrested, Abdoulaye said. Undeterred, Ibrahima moved to Portland in 2007 and continued writing books while studying civil engineering and mathematics.

ADLaM, meanwhile, was spreading beyond Guinea. A palm oil dealer, a woman the brothers’ mother knew, was teaching ADLaM to people in Senegal, Gambia and Sierra Leone. A man from Senegal told Ibrahima that after learning ADLaM, he felt so strongly about the need to share what he’d learned that he left his auto repair business behind and went to Nigeria and Ghana to teach others.

“He said, ‘This is changing people’s lives,’” said Ibrahima, now 43. “We realized this is something people want.”

ADLaM comes online

The brothers also understood that to fully tap ADLaM’s potential, they needed to get it onto computers. They made inquiries about getting ADLaM encoded in Unicode, the global computing industry standard for text, but got no response. After working and saving for close to a year, the brothers had enough money to hire a Seattle company to create a keyboard and font for ADLaM. Since their script wasn’t supported by Unicode, they layered it on top of the Arabic alphabet. But without the encoding, any text they typed just came through as random groupings of Arabic letters unless the recipients had the font installed on their computers.

Following that setback, Ibrahima made a fateful decision. Wanting to refine the letters the Seattle font designer developed, which he wasn’t happy with, he enrolled in a calligraphy class at Portland Community College. The instructor, Rebecca Wild, asked students at the start of each course why they were taking her class. Some needed an art credit; others wanted to decorate cakes or become tattoo artists. The explanation from the quiet African man with the French accent stunned Wild.

“It was mind-blowing when I heard the story of why he was doing this,” said Wild, who lives in Port Townsend, Washington. “It’s so remarkable. I think they deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for what they’re doing. What a difference they’ve made on this planet, and they’re these two humble brothers.”

Wild was struck by Ibrahima’s focus and assiduousness in class. “He was always a star student,” she said. “He had this skill set and unending patience. He worked and worked and worked in class on the assignments, but at the same time, he was taking all this stuff he was learning in class back to ADLaM.”

Wild helped Ibrahima get a scholarship to a calligraphy conference at Reed College in Portland, where he met Randall Hasson, a calligraphy artist and painter. Hasson was seated at a table one afternoon, giving a lettering demonstration with another instructor, and Ibrahima came over. A book about African alphabets rested on the table. Ibrahima picked it up, commented that the scripts in the book weren’t the only African alphabets and offhandedly mentioned that he and his brother had invented an alphabet.

Hasson, who has extensively researched ancient alphabets, assumed Ibrahima meant that he and his brother had somehow modified an alphabet.

“I said, ‘You mean you adapted an alphabet?’” Hasson recalled. “I had to ask him three times to be sure he had actually invented one.”

After hearing Ibrahima’s story, Hasson suggested teaming up for a talk on ADLaM at a calligraphy conference in Colorado the following year. The audience sat rapt as Hasson told Ibrahima’s story, giving him a standing ovation as he walked to the stage. During a break earlier in the day, Ibrahima asked Hasson to come and meet a few people. They were four Fulbhe men who had driven almost 1,800 miles from New York just to hear Ibrahima’s talk, hoping it would finally help get ADLaM the connections they sought.

Hasson was so moved after speaking with them that he walked away, sat down in an empty stairwell and cried.

“At that moment,” he said, “I began to understand how important this talk was to these people.”

Ibrahima made connections at the conference that got him introduced to Michael Everson, one of the editors of the Unicode Standard. It was the break the brothers needed. With help from Everson, Ibrahima and Abdoulaye put together a proposal for ADLaM to be added to Unicode.

Andrew Glass is a senior program manager at Microsoft who works on font and keyboard technology and provides expertise to the Unicode Technical Committee. The ADLaM proposal and the Barry brothers’ pending visit to the Unicode Consortium generated much interest and excitement among Glass and other committee members, most of whom have linguistics backgrounds. Glass’s graduate studies focused on writing systems that are around 2,000 years old, and like other linguists he uses a methodological, technical approach to analyze and understand writing systems.

But here were two brothers with no training in linguistics, who developed an alphabet through a natural, organic approach — and when they were children, no less. New writing systems aren’t created very often, and the chance to actually talk with the inventors of one was rare.

“You come across things in these old writing systems and you wonder why it’s the way it is, and there’s nobody to ask,” Glass said. “This was a unique opportunity to say, ‘Why is it like this? Did they think about doing things differently? Why are the letters ordered this way?’ and things like that.”

Microsoft worked with designers to develop a font for Windows and Office called Ebrima that supports ADLaM and several other African writing systems.

It was during the Unicode process that ADLaM got its new name. The brothers originally called their alphabet Bindi Pular, meaning “Pular script,” but had always wanted a more meaningful name. Some people in Guinea who’d been teaching the script suggested ADLaM, an acronym using the first four letters of the script for a phrase that translates to “the alphabet that will prevent a people from being lost.” The Unicode Technical Committee approved ADLaM in 2014 and the alphabet was included in Unicode 9.0, released in June 2016. The brothers were elated.

“It was very exciting for us,” Abdoulaye said. “Once we got encoded, we thought, ‘This is it.’”

But they soon realized there were other, possibly even more challenging hurdles ahead. For ADLaM to be usable on computers, it had to be supported on desktop and mobile operating systems, and with fonts and keyboards. To make it broadly accessible, it also needed to be integrated on social networking sites.

The brothers’ script found a champion in Glass, who had developed Windows keyboards for several languages and worked on supporting various writing systems in Microsoft technology. Glass told others at Microsoft about ADLaM and helped connect the Barry brothers to the right people at the company. He developed keyboard layouts for ADLaM, initially as a project during Microsoft’s annual companywide employee hackathon.

Judy Safran-Aasen, a program manager for Microsoft’s Windows design group, also saw the importance of incorporating ADLaM into Microsoft products. Safran-Aasen wrote a business plan for adding ADLaM to Windows and pushed the work forward with various Microsoft teams.

“It was a shoestring collaboration of a few people who were really interested in seeing this happen,” she said. “It’s a powerful human interest story, and if you tell the story you can get people onboard.

“This is going to have an impact on literacy throughout that community and enable people to be part of the Windows ecosystem, where before that just wasn’t available to them,” Safran-Aasen said. “I’m really excited that we can make this happen.”

ADLaM creators Ibrahima and Abdoulaye Barry in Portland, Oregon.

Microsoft worked with two type designers in Maine, Mark Jamra and Neil Patel, to develop an ADLaM component for Windows and Office within Microsoft’s existing Ebrima font, which also supports other African writing systems. ADLaM support is included in the Windows 10 May 2019 update, allowing users to type and see ADLaM in Windows, including in Word and other Office apps.

Microsoft’s support for ADLaM, Abdoulaye said, “is going to be a huge jump for us.”

ADLaM is also supported by the Kigelia typeface system developed by Jamra and Patel, which includes eight African scripts and is being added to Office later this year. The designers wanted to create a type system for a region of the world lacking in typeface development, where they say existing fonts tend to be oversimplified and poorly researched. They consulted extensively with Ibrahima and Abdoulaye to refine ADLaM’s forms, painstakingly working to execute on the brothers’ vision within the boundaries of font technology.

“This was their life’s work that they started when they were kids,” Patel said. “To get it right is a big deal.”

And to many Africans, Jamra said, a script is more than just an alphabet. ”These writing systems are cultural icons,” he said. “It’s not like the Latin script. They really are symbols of ethnic identity for many of these communities.”

They’re also a means of preserving and advancing a culture. Without a writing system it’s difficult for people to record their history, to share perspective and knowledge across generations, even to engage in the basic communications that facilitate commerce and daily activities. There is greater interest in recent years in establishing writing systems for languages that didn’t have them, Glass said, to help ensure those languages remain relevant and don’t disappear. He pointed to the Osage script, created by an elder in 2006 to preserve and revitalize the language, as an example.

“There is a big push among language communities to develop writing systems,” Glass said. “And when they get them, they are such a powerful tool to put identity around that community, and also empower that community to learn and become educated.

“I think ADLaM has tremendous potential to change circumstances and improve people’s lives. That’s one of the things that’s really exciting about this.”

Keeping a culture alive

Ibrahima and Abdoulaye don’t know how many people around the world have learned ADLaM. It could be hundreds of thousands, maybe more. As many as 24 countries have been represented at ADLaM’s annual conference in Guinea, and there are ADLaM learning centers in Africa, Europe and the U.S. On a recent trip to Brussels, Ibrahima discovered that four learning centers had opened there and others have started in the Netherlands.

“I was really surprised. I couldn’t imagine that ADLaM has reached so many people outside of Africa,” he said.

Abdoulaye “Bobody” Barry (no relation to ADLaM’s creator) lives in Harlem, New York and is part of Winden Jangen, now a nonprofit organization based in New York City. He learned ADLaM a decade ago and has taught it to hundreds of people, first at mosques and then through messaging applications using an Android app. The script has enabled Fulbhe people, many of whom never learned to read and write in English or French, to connect around the world and has fostered a sense of sense of cultural pride, Barry said.

“This is part of our blood. It came from our culture,” he said. “This is not from the French people or the Arabic people. This is ours. This is our culture. That’s why people get so excited.”

Suwadu Jallow emigrated to the U.S. from Gambia in 2012 and took an ADLaM class the Barry brothers taught at Portland Community College. ADLaM is easy for Fulfulde speakers to learn, she said, and will help sustain the language, particularly among the African diaspora.

“Now I can teach this language to someone and have the sense of my tribe being here for years and years to come without the language dying off,” said Jallow, who lives in Seattle. “Having this writing system, you can teach kids how to speak (Fulfulde) just like you teach them to speak English. It will help preserve the language and let people be creative and innovative.”

Jallow is pursuing a master’s in accounting at the University of Washington and hopes to develop an inventory-tracking system in ADLaM after she graduates. She got the idea after helping out in her mother’s baby clothing shop in Gambia as a child and seeing that her mother, who understood little English and Arabic, could not properly record and track expenses. ADLaM, she said, can empower people like her mother who are fluent in Fulfulde and just need a way to write it.

“It’s going to increase literacy,” she said. “I believe knowledge is power, and if you’re able to read and write, that’s a very powerful tool to have. You can do a lot of things that you weren’t able to do.”

The Fulbhe people in Guinea historically produced a considerable volume of books and manuscripts, Abdoulaye Barry said, using Arabic to write in their language. Most households traditionally had a handwritten personal book detailing the family’s ancestry and the history of the Fulbhe people. But the books weren’t shared outside the home, and Fulbhe people largely stopped writing during French colonization, when the government mandated teaching in French and the use of Arabic was limited primarily to learning the Koran.

“Everything else was basically discounted and no longer had the value that it had before the French came,” Abdoulaye said.

Having ADLaM on phones and computers creates infinite possibilities — Fulbhe people around the world will be able to text each other, surf the internet, produce written materials in their own language. But even before ADLaM’s entry into the digital world, Fulfulde speakers in numerous countries have been using the script to write books. Ibrahima mentions a man in Guinea who never went to school and has written more than 30 books in ADLaM, and a high school girl, also in Guinea, who wrote a book about geography and another about how to succeed on exams. The president of Winden Jangen, Abdoulaye Barry (also no relation to Ibrahima’s brother), said many older Fulbhe people who weren’t formally educated are now writing about Fulbhe history and traditions.

“Now, everybody can read that and understand the culture,” he said. “The only way to keep a culture alive is if you read and write in your own language.”

‘The kids are the future’

Though ADLaM has spread over several continents, Ibrahima and Abdoulaye aren’t slowing down their work. Both spend much of their spare time promoting the script, traveling to conferences and continuing to write. Ibrahima, who sleeps a maximum of four hours a night, recently finished the first book of ADLaM grammar and hopes to build a learning academy in Guinea.

On a chilly recent day in Abdoulaye’s home in Portland, the brothers offer tea and patiently answer questions about ADLaM. They are unfailingly gracious, gamely agreeing to drive to a scenic spot on the Willamette River for photos after a long day of talking. They’re also quick to deflect praise for what they have accomplished. Ibrahima, who sometimes wakes up to hundreds of email and text messages from grateful ADLaM learners, said simply that he’s “very happy” with how the script has progressed. For his brother, the response to ADLaM can be overwhelming.

Having this writing system, you can teach kids how to speak Fulani just like you teach them to speak English. It will help preserve the language and let people be creative and innovative.

“It’s very emotional sometimes,” Abdoulaye said. “I feel like people are grateful beyond what we deserve.”

The brothers want ADLaM to be a tool for combating illiteracy, one as lasting and important to their people as the world’s most well-known alphabets are to cultures that use them. They have a particular goal of ADLaM being used to educate African women, who they said are more impacted by illiteracy than men and are typically the parent who teaches children to read.

“If we educate women we can help a lot of people in the community, because they are the foundation of our community,” Abdoulaye said. “I think ADLaM is the best way to educate people because they don’t need to learn a whole new language that’s only used at school. If we switched to this, it would make education a lot easier.”

That hasn’t happened yet, but ADLaM has fostered a grassroots learning movement fueled largely through social media. There are several ADLaM pages on Facebook, and groups with hundreds of members are learning together on messaging apps. Abdoulaye said he and Ibrahima used to hear mostly about adults learning ADLaM, but increasingly it’s now children. Those children will grow up with ADLaM, using the script Abdoulaye and Ibrahima invented all those years ago in their bedroom.

“That makes us believe ADLaM is going to live,” Abdoulaye said. “It’s now settled into the community because it’s in the kids, and the kids are the future.”

#fulani #african writing #african writing systems #abdoulaye #adlam #kemetic dreams

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stories-you-wont-hear · 6 years ago

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– precedence. pt 1

hey everybody! it’s ya girl! back at it again! with a new story! in lieu of the final part of due process! i swear it is slowly coming together, but i want to be able to do justice to the characters in the story and give them an ending that’s neither cotton candy and butterflies nor... slushy snow and subway rats (does my idea of the bad end of things give away where i’m from lol).

aNyWaY here is part one to what will mostly likely be a mini series/prequel to due process in which we find out why y/n is the way she is and how billy came into her life.

bear in mind that this is the same reader from due process, but i don’t think you have to read due process to understand things here, however certain characters will cross over. i hope you all enjoy this, and please give me love! it is so difficult to find motivation to write things when no one pays any attention. i know i write for myself, and for the fun of it, but it can be tough TT enjoy! xoxo mira

___________________________________________________________

There was a special place in hell for the person who decided Latin would be so heavily incorporated into the American legal system. Was English not enough? You secretly figured the people who set up this whole shebang got into a pissing contest with each other and resorted to using fancy Latin phrases to try and one up each other, and as a result, you were sitting at your desk and poring over legal Latin phrases.

You were not about to be the next associate fired for fudging up Latin in a brief that ended up being presented in court by a senior partner, who got an earful from the judge and ended up losing the hearing on a matter of technical wording. That day had been about two weeks ago and since then, every single associate at your firm, Wesley King Randall, had been brushing up on terminology.

Every free moment was spent scanning through reference books and a study guide someone had made, and all that was saying a lot since associates at any big law firm barely had time to breathe. From the corner of your eye, you saw one of the name partners making their way towards the area where the associates were situated and you quickly slipped the papers you had been studying from into your bag and turned to the papers on research about property law. Apparently not everyone had sensed the shift in the air as several other associates still had out their Latin books.

“Didn’t you bumbling toddlers learn what mens rea means in whatever law school your daddies bought your way into?” the woman said as she walked through the playpen of associates, causing a wave of frazzled yuppies to quickly shut their books and turn towards the woman who would fire each and every one of them without a moment’s hesitation.

“A guilty mind,” one particular young associate said. Big mistake.

“Is that what your copy of Legalese for Dummies says?” she replied, eyes piercing through the man who had had the audacity to reply to her. The poor kid was now probably kicking himself for not interning at Landman and Zack. You sucked in your breath, unsure what his fate would be until another man walked towards the bullpen area.

“Eva, you came to choose an associate, not to choose a lamb to slaughter,” Richard Wesley said, his teeth sparkling as he came in, shaking his head as if to admonish the woman with whom he shared the name of the firm.

“It’s not my fault they’re all sheep,” she replied back bitterly, her mood seeming to worsen with the addition of her colleague.

“How about Monty?” Richard suggested, gesturing towards William Montgomery Jr., who immediately stood up when his name was called. “I’d prefer someone who won’t call me a frigid bitch behind me back, Dick,” Eva deflected. Monty's face immediately reddened as Eva reiterated the words he had used to describe her last week at an associate's happy hour outing.

"The walls have ears, Mr. Montgomery," Eva cautioned, her eyes scanning the faces of the associates, who were all probably trying to hide either their fear or their contempt of the female third of the law firm.

Eva King was many things. She was poised, she was ruthless, and she did not give a shit what people thought of her. And now, Eva King was looking directly at you. "You," she said, and you immediately rose up, hand reaching for your bag without a word as she beckoned for you. Eva turned to leave without so much as another word, but you caught the look Richard Wesley was giving the rest of the associates, namely the male associates in front of him.

It was a look that was meant to pacify them. It wasn't that they weren’t worthy, Eva chose you because you were a woman. At least, that's what those man-babies would tell themselves as they nursed top shelf liquor tonight after work. It was the same reason why Richard Wesley doubted your ability even though you had just wrangled a property case for him just last month.

"I don't have time to coddle you," Eva said as you followed her through the firm, heading for the elevator. "I don't need you to," you replied, stepping into the enclosed space behind her. "That's what I like to hear," she said, granting you a look that was probably as close to warm as she could get.

"You were the one who figured out that clever little loophole in the Grant case will, weren't you?" she asked after a moment of silence. You attempted to pull back at the grin that wanted to pop up on your face, it was the very case Richard Wesley had taken as a favor for an old family friend, making sure that man would get every pretty penny from his grandmother's will. It was also the case that some second year associate had gotten the credit for just because he was being groomed for Wesley's good old boy club. Yet, Eva King knew what you had done. You had barely had a conversation since you started here three years ago, but she knew about you.

"Yes," you replied, hoping your faux indifferent tone was masking the fact that you were internally jumping for joy. "Don't be humble," Eva insisted, "Every goddamn thing you do here, you write your name in big bold letters on. You don't do that and some ass with a trust fund is going to write his own name on it." You attempted to take in her words as the elevator dinged, marking your arrival to the third and most prestigious floor of the firm.

The desk at reception was marked with the names of the partners in silver lettering and the woman behind it stood up as the both of you stepped off the elevator. "Mr. Russo from Anvil is already waiting in your office, Ms. King," the receptionist called as Eva brushed past her. "Of course he is," Eva muttered under her breath, heading towards her office.

"Stay sharp," was all that Eva supplied before she stepped into her office to find the man you presumed to be Mr. Russo going through the books she had arranged on the bookshelf behind her couch. You could've sworn that her office was probably just as big as your apartment, her desk facing away from the lounge area each name partner had in their office. Eva's was tastefully done, and was as chic as she was. "I think this Camus guy is pretty bleak, don't ya think?" were his first words as he turned towards the two of you, holding up a copy of The Stranger. "Sorry, I'll have Forrest Gump playing for you the next time you visit, Mr. Russo," Eva responded.

The man, who you couldn't help but ogle, was dressed impeccably in a suit you had worked long enough at this firm to know was worth your entire month's paycheck. "Billy Russo," he said, putting the book back on the shelf to step towards you, his movements precise as he offered his hand to you. You shook it, hoping you weren't still ogling him. "Y/N Y/L/N," you supplied.

"Have a seat, Mr. Russo, Y/N," Eva chimed, waiting until the both of you sat before she took a seat a few feet from you on the couch. "What's going on, Russo?" she asked almost immediately. Eva certainly did not beat around the bush, even with clients. "How I love your hospitality," Billy commented with a chuckle. "Can I get you anything?" Eva said exasperatedly.

"Just some fine legal counsel," Billy quipped back as you looked between the two of them. You had always seen Eva as a powerhouse, not taking shit from anyone, but this kind of exchange was almost like banter. You were seeing a new side of her.

"Well, it's a good thing you came to a law firm, isn't it?" Eva shot back, but this time with the tiniest of smiles. "I hear you lot are pretty decent, any truth to that?" he said, this time directing his playful quip at you. "That suit you're wearing isn't cheap, and neither are we," you responded.

"I like her," Billy said, turning to face Eva, who was nodding at you with a look of approval. "So do I," she began, avoiding eye contact with you as she said so, "And she's right. So we can keep making small talk for as long as you want, Billy." Billy smirked, and you knew he had the pockets to keep you and Eva here all day if he wanted. You certainly didn't mind the view.

"What was that joke?" Billy began, "What's the difference between a good lawyer and a bad lawyer? A bad lawyer can drag a case out for a year and a good lawyer..." "A good lawyer can make it last even longer," you offered. "Bingo!" Billy grinned. Eva's expression turned to one of weariness, and you cleared your throat, not wanting her to regret her choice.

"Sorry, Eva," Billy sighed, "I just can't help myself around beautiful women." His grin was wide as he leaned back against the arm chair he had chosen to sit in, and suddenly his face clicked. You had seen him in the papers and perhaps once or twice in the office on the rare occasion you had to visit the third floor. He was the CEO of some private military firm and had deep enough pockets to keep Wesley King Randall on as legal counsel. "Try," Eva replied dryly.

Billy's entire demeanor changed within seconds, sitting up and dropping the grin in exchange for an intense look as he pointed towards the file on the coffee table. "This is a contract that I made with a domestic company to provide accommodations to my men out in Iraq. They're set to go weeks from now, and then this son of-" Eva cleared her throat, raising her brow at him as she leafed through the papers. "Sorry," Billy mumbled, before shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

"Now they're telling me they can't provide me the service, and I've got men going out there with no place to go," he continued. "They called you and told you that?" Eva asked, her eyes scanning the pages in front of her. "Yeah, the guy didn't even have the balls to tell it to my face. Let me tell you what I would've done if he had had the gall to walk into my office and tell me that." "Please," Eva cut in again, "If it's not legal, don't tell me." Billy sighed, shrugging his shoulders a bit. He looked tense, his concern for the people who worked for him apparent.

"Fair enough," he sighed. "I just don't want my men out in the cold." You nodded sympathetically, eyes turning to Eva who had set the contract back down on the table. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that the wife of this company's CEO was the one you were laying it on at the gala last weekend? she asked coolly. Billy froze, the epiphany he was having drawing a a slow nod as Eva spoke. "I didn't know that was her!" he cried, "And I can't help it if my natural state of being is pure charm." Eva scoffed, and even you couldn't help but chuckle in reply to that comment.

"What am I supposed to do now? Wait until my men are out there without so much as a roof over their heads?" he said, turning back into serious Billy.

"It's an anticipatory breach," you spoke up, looking up at Billy. Eva nodded in agreement, her eyes on you as you spoke. "You don't have to wait to take legal action until they actually breach the contract. He already told you that they can't honor their part of the agreement. That in turn will affect your ability to complete the job your company was hired for. They could be held liable not just for what you paid them, but for the entire contract."

Billy turned to look back at Eva, who sat up straight, her expression unable to hide the fact that she was pleased with you. "That's right," she agreed, "We can hold them as liable before they actually breach. Do you have proof that he called and stated that on the phone?" Billy nodded, explaining that he'd need to get the recording of the call from the secretary who kept those sort of logs.

"Great," Eva said, standing up to follow Billy's movements as you did the same. "Get that to me and I'll have his head on a platter for you," she said as she began to walk him out. "Thank you, Eva," Billy said, tipping his head in thanks. "And thank you, Y/N," he said with one of those smiles. "It's my job, Mr. Russo," you replied. With that, he was off and you wondered if Eva wanted you in her office as she had taken a seat at her desk.

"Should I-" you began until she gestured for you to take a seat across from her. "You did good," she praised, and for a moment, you wondered if you were in a dream. Eva King, the woman who all the associates called an ice queen, was praising you while you sat in her office. "But you have to be the best," she continued, her eyes set on you. You tried to maintain eye contact, but her gaze was too intense and your eyes dropped to your lap. "I'm serious, Y/N, you have potential," she said, a bit gentler this time. You nodded, thanking her for the opportunity as you sensed it was time for you to return to your regular old cubicle three floors down. "And," Eva called as you got to the door, "Next time don't make it so obvious that you're ogling him."

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and boom! so that was mainly to introduce the story and the characters and of course, billy. let me know what you think and i hope to have the next part of this as well as the last part to due process out soon. much love, mira

#stories-you-wont-hear #stories: precedence #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fic #reader x billy russo

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sepublic · 5 years ago

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Chat Chalet and Color Clock!

So, uh.

Remember when I said about Tuba… and the uh… the um, ah.

…

So about the Chat Chalet Car!

NOT comfortable with The Cat having that calendar, and her bear roommate tying up his bathrobe, that… WHOOF. I mean I get Simon was uncomfortable and I appreciate the depiction of what was clearly a panic attack, but uh. I was also uncomfortable… but for a DIFFERENT reason.

Also, I’m pretty sure by this point that One-One, The Cat, and Randall are the only constants in this show! The cars may change as do the seasons, passengers and protagonists come and pass… But those three remain the same, huh? What’s really interesting is that The Cat actually seems to show remorse for screwing over Simon (who may have gotten his number-detector from her)…

We don’t know the circumstances, but The Cat alludes to an ‘army’ that likely ties back into the toy army Simon made; Perhaps a puzzle that went wrong involving him commanding soldiers, only to lose them and almost get killed by the opposing side? We know that Simon got left by her to die by a Ghom, and we still have a shot of her for Book 3 that wasn’t seen yet; So more backstory will come about! Perhaps The Cat left him in the wasteland… Anyhow, it seems that after Amelia destroyed her car in Book 1, she’s gotten a new one, and more Randalls no less from the Beach Car! Always glad to see that guy!

But also; Simon was TEN when he was on the train! We don’t know long he’s been here NOW, but if I had to guess; Probably almost as long as ten years! He’s almost spent as much time on the Infinity Train as he did back in the human world… And when you take into account him being even younger than Tulip or Jesse, YIKES; No wonder he’s so screwed up! His sense of reality must be completely skewed as the Infinity Train is the only home he knows! This does bring up the question of how old Grace was… I think she mentioned saving him? Either way, I think she was also pretty young…

I guess I can see better why Amelia saved Grace; She was just a child, and presumably Amelia’s number wasn’t so high at the time, so she was still a more empathetic person! Plus, Grace wasn’t actively interfering with her plans like Tulip was, so Amelia probably wouldn’t resort to either child murder or neglect, and felt compelled to act! Either way, it makes Grace and Simon’s situation a LOT more disturbing in this context…

Grace also alludes to potentially having NOT known a denizen personally, which implies that her low opinion comes solely from the experiences of others like Simon, as well as Amelia’s own misinformation! With that in mind, I can see it being easier for her to empathize with Tuba, given how she doesn’t have any actual bad memories herself; And we see her number lower, too! And when Tuba… uhh… umm…

…

…Okay, so Tuba died!

We are only HALF-WAY through Book 3, and we’ve already lost Tuba! I know the writers mentioned having to juggle four characters, but that was basically for like… three episodes?

And, Tuba was murdered! By Simon… You know for a second there, I thought Simon might have a change of heart briefly, and TRY to save Tuba only for things to go wrong. And then I jokingly thought, “Oh dang what if this was like Mufasa’s death scene lol?”

It was.

…WELL. At least they didn’t show Tuba’s death in full, graphic detail like they did Mace! And considering how they got away with Mace’s death because he technically wasn’t human despite looking like one (whereas Tuba is a straight-up gorilla), I’m surprised! But also grateful, because Mace freaking deserved it, and Tuba…

…Screw you Simon. How do you go from feeling more friendly to KILLING someone?! I get The Cat screwed you over, and I know this may not be appropriate given how young you were when it all happened… BUT GROW UP.

…You know, Owen Dennis released a few drawings of our main cast, and while Grace and Hazel seemed to be getting along, Simon had a look of concern like something was troubling him. Given what he just did… I’m worried that maybe he won’t have a redemption of any sorts, that he might go off the deep end and descend into pure villainy or whatever? That him and Grace will become enemies, and Simon… WON’T leave Book 3, any better than he started off as.

That- Or he DOES learn to become better, but he stays behind on the Infinity Train because he still has a LOT of work to do, and the Apex (which will apparently undergo a change) still needs guidance. Coupled with him having spent far too much of his life on the Infinity Train, and maybe he’ll spend the rest of his life helping others; After all, the show is not narratively against the idea of rejecting one’s exit after achieving it, if it means helping other people (hence the Book 1 Finale)! It WOULD be a clever turnaround for his position at the beginning of Book 3…

And of course, Grace- Given the apparent confirmation about SOMETHING regarding Hazel… I can also see her staying on the Infinity Train, to take care of Hazel (given how she still really cares about her), and also because she doesn’t really have anything left at home? Nothing positive, at least; Given how many years it’s been, her family may have moved on. IS there anything to go back to? It’d be a morbid prospect to consider…

Also, Hazel! Hazel, in sheer grief, begins to transform into a Turtle; So either that’s her true form, or she’s a shape-shifter and her being ‘human’ is just another form she can take! Hazel doesn’t have any memories, is this a quirk of her programming by One-One? Is her human form based off of ANOTHER passenger that existed beforehand? It’s worth noting that she can transform drastically like Alan Dracula, who was specifically-crafted by One-One. Given my speculation that Alan Dracula was made to help Jesse and Lake, I wonder if this confirms that One-One personally made Hazel to force Simon and Grace to reevaluate their stance on things?

…Either way, I am NOT looking forward to being Simon if Hazel decides to direct her grief at him, especially since he straight-up owned to killing Tuba, instead of trying to make it look like a plausible accident!

…Though let’s be real, I wouldn’t look forward to being Simon, period.

…Also Roy! Yeah not gonna lie, if I had to deal with THAT and a bunch of other puzzles for who knows how many years, I’d probably ALSO lose it and want to kill every denizen I meet!

BUT I WOULDN’T ACTUALLY GO THROUGH WITH IT AND CERTAINLY NOT KILL ANY DENIZENS WHO WERE FRIENDS-

Like, what’s so AWFUL about that moment was how unnecessary, how pointless and needlessly cruel it was! Simon didn’t need to do anything; It seems like Tuba would’ve fallen on her own anyway and died. And even if she didn’t… Who knows HOW far away the Color Clock Car would’ve taken her away?!

At worst, Simon could’ve pretended to try to use his Harpoon Pack, and then feigned some lie about it ‘not working’, malfunctioning at a key moment! Hazel wouldn’t know, she wouldn’t suspect, she’s a child! He could’ve just LET it happen… But no, he has to go the extra mile and specifically get Tuba’s hopes up, just to step on them for no other reason than what? To spite her? To ‘claim’ his kill over her, as if it would’ve made a difference since she was already going to fall to her death anyway? And all because Grace reasonably doubted the need to fight Tuba single-handedly when the Apex was just a few cars away!?

I dunno… And it’s just interesting, because when Simon was around The Cat, whose mere presence gave him a panic attack and PTSD… He didn’t do anything! She literally left him to die, she was THE example for denizens that led towards his hatred of them; And she’s powerless, there’s nothing she can do to defend herself against Simon! I mean there IS Frank, and maybe he didn’t want to start anything in front of Tuba… I have to wonder if he still cares in his own incredibly twisted way because of their past together- Or if his PTSD-induced fear of The Cat overwhelms any spite towards Tuba?

Regardless, that was messed up. It was the most needlessly cruel, pointlessly spiteful thing we’ve seen in the show by far; Even characters like Mace and Sieve, not even AMELIA ever went so far as to bring up an ally’s hopes up like that, just to kill them off anyway!

#infinity train #infinity train book 3 #infinity train season 3 #infinity train cult of the conductor #infinity train spoilers #infinity train season 3 spoilers #spoilers #infinity train simon #simon laurent #infinity train tuba #infinity train grace #grace monroe #infinity train hazel #infinity train the cat

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contrivedcoincidences6 · 6 years ago

Text

The Invisible Cord (reboot)- Chapter 1

If you want to read the prologue go here

***

I look out the window and watch the wind blow through the autumn leaves. The swirling colors are able to hold my attention far better than the droning on of my biology teacher giving her lecture.

“Ms. Meeks? Ms. Meeks!”

The teacher’s irritable voice reaches my subconscious along with a series of muffled snickers.

“Yes, ma’am?” I ask.

“You seem to be distracted. Would some extra homework tonight help you concentrate?” she asks, hands on her hips.

“I’m not distracted, ma’am. I’ve been listening.”

“Well then, what are ribosomes?” she asked, her lips pursed.

My mind moves back in time to moments before and as I picture the leaves in the trees I can hear Mrs. Jefferson’s voice telling me the answer.

“They help produce the polypeptides that make up the majority of a cell’s structure and are required for activities that are necessary for the cell’s survival,” I repeat, using her exact wording just to be a brat.

“Alright then, what about endoplasmic reticulum?” she asks with a sigh.

For this I have to think back to a few minutes earlier. I remember how the light had shone off of Mr. Randall’s car and it comes back.

“The endoplasmic reticulum is a network of membrane-covered channels that transport the materials made in the cells, and are connected to the nucleus,” I say, again using her exact wording.

“Well, you certainly have done your reading,” Mrs. Jefferson says, giving me a subtle nod of approval. She seems to want to continue her little quiz when the bell rings. The students start to get up and as I gather my things I hear her voice through the crowd.

“April Meeks. I would like to speak with you before you leave.”

I walk up to her desk, making just enough eye contact to make her uncomfortable.

“What was that performance just now?” she asks, incredulous.

“I was listening to you, Mrs. Jefferson,” I say with a small shrug.

“You were not paying attention to the discussion or even taking notes.”

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes I tap my head. “Eidetic memory,” I answer with a straight face. Try not to react as her mouth twists into an ugly pout.

“May I leave now?” I ask as she simply nods, gestures towards the door.

Not surprisingly, May is standing right outside the door. As my best friend, she seemed to sense that I’d been causing trouble and she shoots me a harmless glare. Her long black braids sway around her head as she walks next to me and waits for me to say something.

May is basically my only friend. Growing up in the same foster home our caretakers decided that our names meant we were meant to be friends. And they were right, we’ve been inseparable ever since.

“That was stupid, April.” May says in her lecturing voice. “Why would you draw attention to yourself like that?”

I gave her what had to be my fiftieth shrug of the day.

“I’m just sick of sitting in a mid-level bio class pretending like I’m actually learning something.”

“So do you not want to stick to our plan then?” she asks, stopping so that I am forced to turn around.

“I never said that,” I mutter, letting out a soft sigh. “I just- why does it have to be so boring?”

“You don’t think that I’m bored?” May throws up her hands.

“But you know if we are all pulled out of the class people will start to notice we’re different. They’ll notice and then they’ll take you again.”

I look down at my feet, clad in Converse shoes that have seen better days.

“May, just for the record one more time, you are not my mother. I know all of this. And I don’t want to get taken. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m tired, and soon enough another birthday is going to come and go and I’ll have nothing new to show for it.”

Sighing she squeezes my fingers before looping her arm through mine.

In two days it will be my 16th birthday. I know for most everyone else in my class a sixteenth birthday is an important event. Sweet Sixteen invitations have been plastered all over lockers and everyone’s excited to get their learner’s permit.

To me, it just means another year. One filled with even more questions and fear than the previous one. It just so happens May’s birthday falls exactly one month before mine and she shares the same detachment.

We’re similar in more ways than that. Both of us have little concept of our lives before the age of five. It’s not that our minds were erased, or at least we don’t think they were. There are shadows that sometimes come in the night or a moment of Deja Vu. The memories don’t seem to fit in anywhere, just like us.

Sometimes I will have flashes to my mother singing to me as she makes me my lunch but I can’t picture her face. I can think back to being in the car with my father on a road trip but I don’t know where we were going. Most vividly though I remember all my visits to all the doctors. Those memories are the strongest ones and it’s another thing May and I have in common. Both of us have been in and out of the hospital for our entire lives.

“I just don’t want you to take risks like that. We need to follow our rules. I mean, really. Just two more years and we are out of this hellhole. That’s what you should think of on your birthday. Just two years until freedom.”

Her arm tightens around mine and I know that she really believes it. I smile and bump her shoulder, wanting to believe. ____________________________________________________________________

We watch them walk out of the school and try to interpret their behavior, this…display. The two of them have linked arms and upturned lips, and it makes us curious. Makes us wonder. Even though technically none of us are programmed to do that. We don’t think in depth. We don’t experience emotion. I guess one could consider us robots. One perk though of our clinical detachment is our reliance on our instincts. They’re essential to who we are and have helped to keep us safe. To help us survive.

One of our key instincts is fairly basic. To protect our mothers. We’ve had so many of them and while we failed most of them years ago when we were still too young and unskilled to prevent them from being harmed, we know some of them still live. Some, against all odds, have managed to survive and weather all the illness and all the death that’s been thrown at them, and we believe with everything in us, that we still have an obligation to them.

We know there are few of us now. According to all the official documents we’ve managed to access we are considered to be extinct. The truth is though that we still exist. We still create. We still have roles. We just need to embrace them quietly. Slowly. The way we’ve been trained to.

Looking to our sister she nods. We move forward, to follow the duo. They are real humans. They are to be protected. Unlike us. We’re secondary. Just biological material stolen from the humans, grown in the bellies of women who didn’t ask for us. Although we are all that remains of the original batch, the ones not created in test tubes, we all still consider our mothers to be our mothers. In every important sense of the word. It’s only because of their ova that we came into existence. While these two could be considered related to us in a sense they may as well be of a different species.

However, these children are important to our mothers. Therefore they are important to us. In two days time we will make contact. ____________________________________________________________________

“All I’m saying is the only reason he’s interested in me at all is because of the list.” May says, playing with my hair while I try to do my homework.

“What list?” I ask, half paying attention.

“You haven’t heard about the list the football players have?” she asks, looking at me as if I’m missing a crucial piece of information.

I shake my head and she moves from lying on her stomach behind me to scoot up next to me.

The expression on her face tells me that whatever ‘the list’ is, it’s easily the most important thing going on in the school. No wonder I’m clueless.

“It’s basically a fuck-it list. It’s like a bucket list, but it’s just a list of girls they want to fuck. I know Andrew is only sniffing around me so he can check off the ‘black girl’ box.”

“At the game the other day you said you wanted to eat bacon off his ass, so I really don’t get why you care,” I scoff, peering up at her through my glasses.

“It’s the principle of it!” May exclaims as I roll my eyes, and put down my textbook.

“But you are only interested in him for his ass. He’s only interested in you because of a list. Both of you have motives aside from actual interest in the other person. That being said, are you really telling me you won’t have sex with him?”

“I never said that. I’m just saying that I don’t appreciate his motives. Jennie was his token ‘Asian girl’. Have you heard of anything more crass than that? Still, she said he was a tiger in the sack. Hey!” She exclaimed giving my arm a soft swat, “You could probably get on his radar! Maybe he hasn’t checked the ‘redhead’ box yet.”

“No thanks. I’m good,” I say, shaking my head.

“You know, you’ll need to start dating at some point. People talk. Especially about the cute ones.”

“Aw, you think I’m cute?” I tease, earning an eye roll. “I’m not interested in dating, May. I mean, really, what’s the point?”

“Well, it’s nice for someone to show interest in you. There are also physical benefits of course.”

“Too much effort for something I can just take care of myself.”

May just shakes her head at me, flops back onto her own bed.

“You know if you’re into girls that’s great. I can get you the numbers of some I’ve been with.”

“Just some?”

“There’s only a few who would be worthy of you, my dear,” she teases as I let out a long sigh.

“It’s not that I’m not attracted to anyone I just have no interest in dating. There are way more important things for me to worry about right now.”

“You keep on with that attitude and I’ll tell you what’s going to happen: you’re going to be celibate for years. Until you finally figure out that there are no answers out there. But by that time I’ll be too old a woman to be able to enjoy it.”

Choosing to ignore her comment I find the last answer to the worksheet, hand it over to May to copy.

“Thanks,” she says, crossing back to her desk. Now it’s my turn to lie back on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

“Do you think that our parents are still alive?” I ask after a beat and she answers before I’m even done.

“Who knows? If they are they probably don’t care. I don’t know why you keep thinking about this. Who even knows if we have parents? For all we know we’re test-tube babies.”

“But what if they are alive and out there missing us. Maybe they’re trying to find us.”

Jumping a bit when she lies on the bed beside me I let out a sigh, fold my arms.

“I’m not dismissing that possibility, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m worried you’ll plan your whole life around this idea of a family out there looking for you and then find out there’s just…no way for you to have it.”

“But I feel like I did have it, May. At least once. All the memories I have from before, those have to mean something, don’t they?”

“If they’re real,” May sighs. “Look, they might be. But think about it, if they can erase our memories what makes you think they can’t plant fake ones?”

Just thinking about that makes my head hurt. In the way, it does when I’m on the verge of a long cry. Curling on my side I rest my forehead against May’s shoulder, grateful she knows without my saying it that she should stay put.

Her fingers run through my hair, “Just to be safe though we can watch Anastasia again tonight.”

I laugh and close my eyes trying not to yearn for more than this perfect moment.

#the x files #txf #msr #x files #the x files fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #clarices fic #the invisible cord

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