#but also someone explain to me how he fit all his skating glory into his tragic schedule | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charmed-asylum · 5 years

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 4

Summary: Finn Cox had everything boy would ever dream of a hot cheerleader girlfriend, loved by everyone, and caption of his hockey team. So why is since Camille Dawson step into his life he starts to have second thoughts about everything

FYI: 1st week back to school. This part is short. Ever hear the saying quite before the storm well. Get ready because it is about to be a class five hurricane Lets CHAT Get tag or Whatnot. If you are new catch up :)

✨ The Partners: Ch.1/ Ch.2/ Ch. 3

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑔𝑒𝒹: @weapinggwillowss @nottherightseason @strangerfictions @thewolfswriting @hauntor

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

2014

The crowd called for him praising him like he was a god. Going nuts. It was the winter finale game they been undefeated all season and it was time. He rushed out to the ice and gave them a show skating around waving his hands up. He was only a freshman and on the varsity team for St. Cloud State University. He wears his black, red, and white with pride. Hockey his friends was his life and the girl of the week. Finn was the young man on the campus. It was his life. One he would never give up.

The blood rushes down his forehead his mouth crunch harder onto the mouthpiece. He looks at his teammates as the captain told them the next play. It was Finn's big moment. It was up to him to get the point that could give them the win. BREAK He waited for tell. The bits of ice rush in his face as he rushed down to the goal. Fitting the enemy trying to steal his shine. As he took it he hit it in. The crowd scream in excitement. Others turn around to Finn on the ground screaming. Throwing the helmet off he screams as he tried to get up. Stumbling back down. Before blacking out he saw the scoreboard. THEY WON

FOUR MONTHS LATER

He looked out at the gentle white snow. Hunch over missable. The doctor said it could be fixed but instead he was still wheeling himself around. ACL about gone damage due to years of playing. All his friends didn’t call him as much and he wasn’t getting much action like before. Him this smell room and his dad.

“ Where you going anyway" Finn said wheeling himself around following his dad. “I and a friend are going on our annual fishing trip. Every year I get one weekend Finn. To myself" dad said with a chuckle. Probably gonna share a tent with a dude and experiment “ You know I’m okay with that dude and dude stuff” Finn added trying to stop his dad. He turned to Finn and red face still chuckling. “ I ain't no... Finn, I’m gonna be on a big ass boat with rooms and shit that I don’t get here anymore. You know peace” dad said. Finn looks back at the phone ringing. Damn it. He wasn’t in the mood. Rolling back to his room he shut the door and watch his glory days.

It must have been months. No movement. Mad at the world. Unsure where everything when to Shit. Asking himself if there was a way out. Suddenly their movement out the doors of his room breaking him from his daily life is over. Finn was drench in the sour smell of beer stuck in bed. Slowly getting up he dragged his fingers to the door. Peeking out the door he sees his dad talking to someone. Could he be back yet from his trip Finn thought to himself?

The voice has been popping in and out never a face. Yet it was a familiar voice. They were talking about everything including him. His father looks past the figure to Finn door. Rushing away from the door he rolls over and drops a big stack of trash. He quickly tries to fix everything and rush back to his bed. Full of pain. As he crouched over closing his eyes. He felt the light from the hallway hitting his back. A sweet perfume. Fresh. He tried to see if he could peek. But it was too dark. Soft whispers. Then a touch. One-touch. He could not resist so he slowly turned around to see the back of a girl. Who are you?

Unable to sleep he kept thinking about the stranger with the sweet scent and soft touch. Dad was by the table looking at the yellow book. The last person he ever thought would be here but things had slowly changed in the past years.

" Looks who up. Why are you out of the room. Need more painkillers. Use the crapper " dad asked with his reading glasses tip down. Finn smiles. "No, dad. Thought it finally time to come out. Test the waters. What are you doing" he says rolling next to him. He was in pain roll himself everywhere. " Think we should change doctors someone refers me to a better doctor. Also thinking therapy. They told me a good place. Next town. She always such a great big help" he says shaking his head hug grin on his face. Finn seeing his opening took it. "She. Do I know her" he asks grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl.

Dad looks at Finn confuse then shakes his head yes. " Not supposed to tell you. Her words" he says getting up. Finn turns around to his dad. Who can it be? Rolling himself back and forth. "Come on. Tell me. I know her. Who an ex my old math teacher" he says. Making a cup of coffee dad shakes his head. " This is childish your childish. She has been always helping us and I can't even tell you. Because of you two history. Whatever that means. It's the Dawson girl. She has been lending a hand whenever I need it since your mom died" he replies and walks out the room with his coffee. Finn follows him to his bedroom cursing to himself as he pushes himself fast enough to catch up. " Dawson. You mean Camille Dawson. I haven't heard that name in years. What, why, huh" he starts to say.

Dad looks at him and rolls his eyes. " She felt guilty about your mom. Something that wasn't her fault. Days after your mom's funeral she asks a favor for me. She talks to me to explain to me things. Help me see. Be better. Just simple things. Cook a few meals. You're favorite. Then after a while, she would check on us. When you got hurt sometimes she comes up a few weekends to help when I couldn’t. I should of drop kick you. Your mom was going to die and you know that. She asks to die that day. In peace. She saw we be fine. She saw that when you were with her. She saw how happy you could be. She was dying for a while but when she saw we could be ok. She let go into peace. She would be ashamed of you. Here. I told you what has been on my mind for a couple of years. Now I’m going to watch my sports and sleep" he said closing the door.

Finn was shocked. Lies, the truth. He tried not to think about her. It was like she was in a box that he put up away in the attic or at less that's what he wanted to believe. Rolling back and forth by the laptop trying to do something else. Keep the mind busy. "Fuck it". He spends hours checking up the years they last talk. The evolution after high school. The many pictures of her and friends, Will, and a boy who look just like him. She was at NYU. Now ending freshman year. Happy. She was happy. After that night he looks her page each night before he fell asleep.

There was a knock on his door. Is it her. The OxyContin must have been really working was it her or was he just imagine it. " Hey there. Stranger. Your dad out wanted me to check on you" she stops and fixing a few strings of his hair "you're going to make it" she says full of sympathy. Finn slowly opens his eyes. It was her sitting at the side of his bed silent. Slowly getting up. " What are you doing here" he asks grabbing an old beer off his nightstand. She glances at him. That sweet smell. " Home for the break. Heard about you. Dad told me I should come by maybe help. How are you? Taking it easy. There was a lot of neighborhood talk about our rising star" she says opening an orange juice taking the beer out his hands and putting between her thighs. He said nothing just looks at her. She tents up and looks away. " Look. I don't judge or care. Just think you should know it's not over. You can walk again. Have the chance. Many dreams about that. You have friends and family. Supporting you I guess. Maybe even a child. Then again she always did cheat around even with people close to you" she stops and peaks back to him "In high school. Anyway. You give up and that's letting all those people win. You were always better at the buzzer. Your better then this Cox" she says and gets up to start to leave. He watches her. " How can you make it sound so simple. Get hurt right before my career can even start. My life was just starting. Life pretty much fucking over. Dawson" he spits out.

She turns around to him. "You been in here too long. In this room. Small four by four. Going a little wallpaper crazy. That your funk is smelling better than your attitude. Looking like a nightly creature in the sunlight. Legs are going to work. Always practice gets better to get back in there for the second half. Maybe this is meant to be. Come back here. And think about what you want. At less think about it, not for you but your mom" she stops and brought his chair to the bed" Get in the chair. I am taking you for a short ride. Then you and your funk can come back and sit here and decay" she says looking at him. Her hands on her hips full of sass.

The ride was short. He was forced to go. Okay, ask very polity to wear blindfolds. After a while, she took them off. They were at the old oil mill. She locks his chair and starts to grab him out of it. For a small girl pushing 120 tops, she was strong. Helping him sit down on the ground. She sat next to him. Past them was lights then water. He never saw this spot before. It was actually beautiful even though it was dark. She glances at him then back at the view. " Only you. Cox. Only you. See out there. It's whatever you want. Nothing. Ok. Simply a joke to the town. Maybe a small job somewhere. Watch life pass by. You just in your chair rioting. Or change. Get past it. Get back and see pass those lights to the unending ocean whatever. It's up to you. Finn. I’m only here because your dad ask. And I would feel really guilty if I couldn't help. But I said yes" she says leaning back looking up at the stars.

He looks at her then at the view. Her phone begins to ring. Crap she mouths. She gradually finds her way up and answers it. She was gone for a few minutes. He turns around and watches her talking. Kicking the ground nodding her head. Coming back to him. She reaches out for his hands to go. Sitting down in the car. He looks at her. Then back away. " Thanks. For this. Tough love with a hint of kindness. Tomorrow would you come back. None of my friends come by plus my dad great but it is not the same" he said looking at her. She looks at him and starts to smile. Leaning she looks up at the stars. " I always wanted to travel adventure out from Alaska. On my own on my terms. Did with New York. Now. The phone call was from my school. Telling me I got in. Study abroad in Europe. For a year. I leave in a day. Back to New York. Have you ever went. Last I heard it was in your plan. Finn" she says. He looks away from her and shook his head no.

She looks over, " You should. I love to show you. Give you the triangle experience" she says trying to cheer him up. Confused from what she meant he smiles at her. He begins to laugh. She hits him on the side. " Hey, it's a rare package Jimbo Finno. See first there the standard things to see. Which by the way to much for a day. I recommend the first time you should stay a week. Then second is my favorite things that I personally think people should know about then you. I would do things I know you would personally like. Like. Going to Madison Square Garden for a game or ride by Long Island where this cool hockey exhibit is. The triangle experience" she says with jazz hands. Knock knock on the window. It was Finn's dad. She smiles and waves hi then talks to him a little. Getting out. He looks back at her. Watching him. "Hey. So you know things are going to get better. That place we went to was my place. I go there when I need new pear eyes. But now it can also be yours. You need it as bad or worst than me. Directions on your desk. A get a better gift if you will" she says. Once he got inside it was right on his desk. There was a note. From her.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

After that night. That unaware needed to slap into reality finally hot him. Finn started to give in. Maybe it was the urgency of dad. The simplicity of if you don’t you shit together then I’m gonna kick you numb ass. He would mumble to Finn every time he resists. Probably it was the fact of the matter it was an old friend not his father no him. Or maybe was that first video blog Camille mail to Finn in a care package.

With the months going by Finn started to go to community college. Then on his off time working with his dad in the office or going to therapy. What care he was not getting from therapy he got from the random hookups he did every night. Becky Stephanie Val Renee Heather Melody and so on and so one. Till it got to the point he had to write the name on his hand. Even with all those girls he still found me himself after some fun in the sheets watching her vlog looking at her social media. Will and his dad were close so that gave him all the gossip on her outside of social media.

“ Hey, dad do you mind if I talk to you” Finn said clenching onto his crutches. He nods and motions to come in. He was on the phone with a client. Finn is their top player. “ Didn't see last night. Another night out” dad said looking at Finn. Playing on his crutches he nods yes. “ So what is it, son. You need a ride to therapy today. Day off” dad ask. Finn turns one of the pictures over and looks at it. Everyone at his brother's high graduation. Before they even knew there was an actual name for what his mom had.

“ I have been thinking. You said some time ago. Dawson spoke to you help you understand. I want to know what it is” Finn said passing the picture back. Dad sat back and look at the picture. A tear slowly drips down his cheek. His dad was a proud man proud men don’t cry. He taught him that. He taught every one of them that. “ She told me what I need to know. She introduced me to the man you were. The man I made and the one I could have made if I continue the way I did. Even told me the husband the father I was. She then asked me what part I wanted. Dam girl had me crying like a newborn baby. I didn’t care for a word until I realized she was right. I called her that night again crying feel I failed. I was asked by your wife a stranger to look after all of you. That weekend Will invited me out on our trip. Who thought all I ever needed was a friend” dad said with a chuckle.

A young girl with strawberry curly hair walks up to Finn as he was laying by the country club pool. Peeking up he smiled. He gets up and follows her into a men's bathroom. “ God my girlfriends are gonna die when I tell them I road the Finn Cox” strawberry said fixing her hair. Finn put his pants back up and yawned. Wasn't best sure was not the worst he had. “ Or don’t waste your time. Berry” Finn said looking down at his phone. The girl sat behind him and kiss his neck. “ Why don’t you put this down and let me entertain you a bit longer” the girl said kissing him across his neck and shoulders. Still, on his phone, he stops a video. “ How do you think this would taste like” Finn said showing her the phone. There was a toasted bun with fresh fruit beside it. She tossed it away then continue to kiss him rubbing her hand across his thigh. Flustered he tossed her off and show her again. “ It looks like shit” the girl said ignored. He smirked. “ Actually it’s pretty good. Looks good though I think it’s a Scottish dish. Hey huh, you think you can cook this. All the girls I asked said they can’t” Finn said watching the video again. “ How many people you show this shit too” the girl asked. Scratching his nose. “ So that’s a no. You think any bakeries would have it.” Finn asked. Upset at his manor she slapped him across his cheek and walk off. He looks at himself one good time in the mirror. Damn not again

By the time he got home, there was a package for his dad from Camille. Fascinated by what could be intakes it inside. Sitting on his couch he grabs his keys and opens the package. Inside was a letter to dad, Birthday card for him, and a signed Jersey with a video for Finn. Grabbing up the jersey he walks back to his room and closes the door. It was a New York Ranger jersey with all the players' signatures. Pulling it up he grabs a hanger and puts it up on his shelf.

Hey Finn. So I know I was just checking in on you. Just heading back to the states. You might be down so I decided to surprise you with a limited edition preview of the triangle experience. So we are at the MSG where yes the Ranger playing Tampa Bay Lightning. Two of what World Wide Web has said is a good show. I am here with Will he came by for the weekend say hi. A great game was able to get the teams to sign the jerseys said you a cancer kid. Remember you can do what changes the world in a better way. Bye Finno

Fin lay down across his bed rewatch the video once more. She didn’t have to do it and maybe she was doing it for dad. Anyway, this video gave him an idea of something that might help him his dad and others.

Pulling up to the local Polar Ice Box Fin grab his papers and his good tie. He was hoping his classes and work would help today. Something important for once and not so selfish. They didn’t come right away which was good because he was able to practice. He got his bill of health and he wanted to hit the comeback with a bang. For you mommy

The idea was simply a place for boys and girls to learn to be healthy and play hockey. It came to him years ago but it didn’t hit him till that package. He talks about his dad and Will to get some people together to want to help start the program. While it didn’t become a franchise as he went in with. They agree to give it a chance. A chance was all he needed. Just one.

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sophialala1 · 7 years

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I’m now at the point where I’m creating my own fanart in favor of studying XD <3 Well, here you’ll get some fanart of chapter 20 of my story Dearly beloved <3 (PS: It’s my first digital art ever, so be nice) XD <3

I included the chapter so you’ll know what I’m talking about <3 And the full story can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490639/chapters/25774182

Anyways, Chapter 20 - Dearly Beloved

Yuuri couldn’t contain his gasp when he saw Victor nail his quadruple jump. It was a quadruple salchow, and the landing was perfect.

“Good job, Victor.” Yakov called across the ice rink.

“I did it, Yakov, I told you I could!” Victor cheered. “Yuuri, did you see?”

Yuuri nodded frantically. “It was amazing!”

Victor skated towards him. “How did it look? Did I spin fast?”

“Yes, you did.” Yuuri assured. “I could barely count the spins.”

Victor beamed with pride. “Yakov, can I please use the jump in my short program?”

Yakov chuckled fondly before his face grew deadly serious. “No.”

“What? No? Why?” Victor questioned. “This jump will give me a new record.”

“Your program will get you a new record. You don’t need any quads.” Yakov explained. “Besides, you’ve only managed to land one. It doesn’t mean that you’re good enough to add a quad to your program on the last day.”

“But you promised that I could start competing with quads when I turned fifteen…”

“You’ve been fifteen for one day, Victor.” Yakov pointed out. “Calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm.” Victor protested. “I’m just saying…”

“The answer is no.” Yakov stated, leaving no room for arguments.

Yuuri could tell that Victor didn’t let it go. His entire face was just screaming rebellion. “Okay, coach…” Victor said grimly. “Whatever you say.” ……………………………….

“Victor, you’re not going to do anything stupid, right?” Yuuri asked in concern. It was almost time for Victor to perform. And Victor had a weird look on his face.

The Grand Prix final was held in Moscow, Victor’s home territory. And his fans were definitely cheering the loudest.

Victor didn’t want to disappoint them by playing it safe. If he knew that he could be better, wasn’t he an idiot for not doing it?

“Victor?” Yuuri prodded.

“I’m not doing anything stupid.” Victor assured. “I’m doing something smart.”

“Just…” Yuuri started but trailed off.

“What?” Victor asked gently. It was almost time of him to go on the ice. But he couldn’t skate if Yuuri looked so worried.

Victor crouched down so he could get a better look of his mate, when Yuuri suddenly threw his arms around Victor’s neck. “Please, don’t get hurt…” He pleaded.

Victor hugged Yuuri back. “I won’t.” He promised. “I know what I’m doing…”

Yuuri nodded against his shoulder before reluctantly letting him go.

Victor backed away when he suddenly felt Yakov’s hand on his shoulder. “It’s almost time now, jacket off.”

Victor made a sound of acknowledgement. “Will you watch it for me?” He asked Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded solemnly.

Victor chuckled and took off the jacket that connected him to Russia, and handed it to Yuuri.

Yuuri almost choked on his own breath when he saw Victor’s costume in all its glory. He had seen it on TV, but it was so different in person. The crystals covering his entire torso, and the white fluffy wings on in his shoulders, made him look like an angel.

“Yuuri?” Victor asked worriedly.

Yuuri inhaled shakily. “Y-yes…?”

Victor smiled softly to his mate. “Try and breathe, okay?”

Yuuri’s face turned red in an instant, but he took a deep breath to appease Victor.

“That’s my boy…” Victor declared and ruffled Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri tired his best to fix it, but without a mirror, it was more or less a lost cause.

Victor chuckled fondly. “You look so cute like that…”

“Victor.” Yakov snapped. “Focus.”

“Victor, focus…” Victor mocked in Japanese.

Yuuri laughed despite himself. “Victor, you really shouldn’t make fun of him… He only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yeah…” Victor scoffed. “We’ll see…”

“And now, give a warm welcome to Russia’s treasure. Who’s performing in his home territory this time around, Victor Nikiforov.” The announcer spoke. “Victor, skate.” Yakov urged.

Victor kissed the ring on Yuuri’s hand. “Cheer for me?”

Yuuri smiled. “Just try to stop me…” ……………………………

Victor was a panting mess by the time his performance was over. He had replaced all of his triple salchows with quad salchows. He had touched down on two, but landed the other three perfectly.

The audience roared in awe, and Victor felt as if he was on the top of the world. Despite having Yakov trying to burn him alive with a look so furious, that he made Medusa seem like a puppy.

But Victor decided that it didn’t matter, when he finally turned to the person he wanted to impress above all else. His true mate, who was currently hugging his jacket so tightly, that Victor was worried that he might choke himself.

He quickly made his way over to him. “Yuuri, what did you think?” He asked happily as he reached for the rink-wall.

“It was amazing!” Yuuri cheered as Victor skated to a halt. “You’re so amazing, everything was just so…so…”

“Amazing?” Victor filled in.

Yuuri nodded. “It was the best program I have ever seen.”

Yakov didn’t look impressed as he gave Victor the silent treatment, Probably because of all the reporters standing behind them. But his eyes said plenty.

Victor was going to get an earful later…

Victor didn’t care, however. Yuuri looked at him with so much admiration and love that it would definitely be worth it. He would spend the rest of his life with Yakov screaming in his ear, if that was what it took to have Yuuri look at him like that.

“I’m glad.”

Yuuri smiled before he flinched in realization. “Oh, do you want your jacket back?”

Victor laughed as he shook his head fondly. “I’m still very warm after the performance. Why don’t you hold onto it or now?”

Yuuri looked at the jacket determinately. “I will protect it with my life.”

Victor wrapped an arm around Yuuri. His mind was firmly made up that Yuuri was coming with him to the kiss and cry. “Please don’t risk your life like that. I can always get a new jacket…”

Yuuri smiled shyly. “Okay. But it would be a shame if anything happened to it. It’s a very beautiful jacket.”

“Do you want it?” Victor asked. “I can get a new one, and you can keep that if you’d like?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Victor chuckled and pulled Yuuri closer to himself to cover him from the flashing cameras. “Really.” …………………

The jacket was about five sizes too big for Yuuri, but that didn’t keep him from wearing it to Victor’s free skate the next day.

Victor beamed with pride. Having Yuuri wear his jacket made something flutter in his heart, just like the rings did.

It was probably his possessiveness as a alpha. If he could, he would probably put out giant billboards all over the world of the two of them together, with the inscription ‘true mates’. But his parents had already shot down that proposal four times. So it was probably not going to happen…

“What’s in the bag?” Victor asked. Breaking the silence the excitement had put them in.

Yuuri had been carrying a bag ever since they left the hotel. But Yuuri kept it in his free hand. Out of Victor’s sight.

“A surprise…” Yuuri said secretively.

Victor hated how curious that made him. “For me?” He asked.

Yuuri nodded. “You’ll get it once you get off the ice.”

“But, Yuuri…” Victor pouted. “Can you at least give me a clue?”

Yuuri looked away thoughtfully before he suddenly lit up. “It’s my favorite color.” He announced.

Victor hummed thoughtfully. There were a lot of things that could be blue. The ocean, the sky, the angry vein on Yakov’s forehead… But he seriously doubted that any of those would fit inside Yuuri’s bag.

“Victor, I’m warning you. If I see any quads….” Yakov started before Victor cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll resign your post and leave me as a skating-orphan…” Victor repeated in amusement. “You made your points yesterday.”

“Victor… I would have to agree with Yakov.” Yuuri spoke up. “If there’s a risk that you might get hurt. I don’t want you to do it.”

Victor’s heart swelled at Yuuri’s concern.

“I won’t get hurt, solnechnyy.” Victor stated.

Yuuri still looked worried. “But can you promise me that you will stick with the triple jumps? Just to be safe…?”

“Yuuri…” Victor drawled. “You’re so cute when you’re worried.”

“Is that a yes?” Yuuri asked hopefully.

How could Victor possibly say no to that face. “Yes, love.” Victor relented. He was already in the lead with such a high score that he could probably skip his free-skate all together and still win. “I promise you that I won’t do any quads.”

Yuuri smiled gratefully. “Thank you.” …………………………….

Yakov had never appreciated a person as much as he did Yuuri Katsuki, also known as the Victor-whisperer. Finally, he had someone who could get Victor to stop being a reckless idiot.

Sure, Yakov loved his protégé, but god, he could be so stupid sometimes. Yakov didn’t want to keep Victor from evolving and becoming better. But Victor was still growing, and when it came to quads, they could be very dangerous if the distance were measured wrong.

Victor had always been a rebellious kid. Making his first quad when he was no more than ten years old. Just to prove to Yakov and himself, that he could.

Yakov had forbidden them immediately, for Victor’s own safety. But he always caught Victor trying stupid stunts when he wasn’t looking. But it turns out that he only needed Yuuri to get Victor to see reason.

Yakov would have to get his home number, just so that he could have Yuuri talk sense into Victor’s thick skull, the next time the kid got any stupid ideas.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Yuuri asked in awe as Victor skated to a halt in his final position.

Yakov immediately snapped back to reality. Was Victor finished already?

“He’s a very good skater.” Yakov agreed sternly as he clapped his hands.

Yuuri smiled proudly. “I made him a wreath out of blue roses… I hope he will like it.”

Yakov almost snorted. “I think someone will have to rip it away from his cold, dead hands, if they ever want to take it away from him.”

Yuuri looked up at Yakov with a horrified expression. “What?”

Yakov suddenly remembered that he talked to an eleven-year-old he barely knew. He had heard so much about him through Victor, that he almost forgot that he barely had any relationship at all to the Japanese boy. And there he was, traumatizing him with his dark sense of humor.

“Not that anyone would kill him. Just that…” Yakov tried to explain himself. “I’m sure he’ll like the wreath….” He sighed.

“So, what are you two talking about?” Victor asked cheerfully as he suddenly appeared at the rink-side. “You’re not revealing my deepest secrets, are you?”

“Victor, that was amazing!” Yuuri cheered. “You were so beautiful.”

“Thank you, love.” Victor smiled. “Does this mean I’m worthy of the surprise?”

Yuuri smirked. “Well, you’re not off the ice now, are you?”

Victor’s eyes widened in surprise, before a giant grin spread across his face. He took a step forward so he stood on the concrete floor. “Better?”

Yuuri nodded and reached for the bag.

Victor took the moment to put on his skate guards. But just as he put the second one on, something was suddenly placed on his head.

He looked up to Yuuri’s smiling face. “I made it for you last night.” Yuuri announced. “It’s a wreath made of blue roses. They smelled like you, so I figured that they would make a good crown… For my prince…”

“Yuuri…” Victor drawled. His eyes were once again filled with tears. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Yuuri shrugged. “I guess you were just lucky…”

Victor laughed. He was once again reminded of why he loved this confident part of Yuuri. It made his heart beat impossibly strong in his chest. “I suppose you’re right.”

Yuuri blushed, back to normal self again. “Well, come on. We need to see your score…” He reached out his hand to Victor and nodded to the kiss and cry.

Victor took his hand in a heartbeat. “Of course, Luchik… Lead the way.” …………………….

Victor wore the wreath with pride as he stood at the top of the podium. It matched his outfit perfectly and everyone seemed to complement it every chance they got. Yuuri was so happy.

Victor had broken the world record in total score and had really set the bar until Yuuri would make his debut in the juniors.

Next year, Victor would move on to the ‘real’ Grand Prix. But hopefully, the next one who would crush his record in juniors would be his very own Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuri was currently waiting for him with Yakov until the medal ceremony was over. Then they were going out for dinner together with their families to celebrate, and Yuuri would finally get to eat piroshkies.

Victor could barely wait.

“Thank you.” The photographer said, releasing the skaters from the podium.

Victor practically jumped off of it, in his rush to get back to Yuuri. And just when he saw his beautiful mate again, he heard a voice coming from above him.

“Congratulations on your win, Victor.”

Victor looked up and saw a little boy with curly golden hair and giant green eyes.

Victor smiled at him. “And what’s your name?”

The boy looked taken off guard by Victor’s response. “Christophe Giacometti.” The boy said almost too quickly to be audible.

Victor smiled at his reaction. “Thank you, Chris.”

The boy reminded him of Yuuri in some way, so young and filled with hope. Victor wanted to keep that alive. So he looked to his hands and noticed how many roses he held. Most of them probably wouldn’t even last through dinner, so it really couldn’t hurt to spare one.

Victor took one of them and threw it up to Chris. “See you at worlds.” He said with a wave.

Chris looked at the rose like it was magical.

Victor couldn’t help but chuckle when he suddenly felt how someone grabbed his hand. His Yuuri.

“Yakov told me that I should tell you to hurry...” Yuuri smiled. “Apparently you won’t listen to him?”

Victor feigned hurt as he allowed Yuuri to lead him away. “I do too listen to him.” He protested. “I just prefer to listen to you.”

Yuuri laughed. “By the way, who was that boy up there? The one you gave the rose to?”

Victor smiled teasingly. “Are you jealous, Pryanichek?”

Yuuri shook his head thoughtfully. “I know you love me more.”

Victor kissed the side of Yuuri’s head and successfully got a small laugh out of his beloved mate. “Always.”

#Yuri!!! on Ice #Yuri on ice #alpha beta omega #omega!yuuri #Alpha!Victor #dearly beloved #fanfiction #Fanart #fandom #fluff

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shysweetthing · 7 years

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Victor Nikiforov is a financial genius: you asked for it, now get punched in the face with the new 22-point version

What do I mean by financial genius? I mean three things:

A. Victor Nikiforov is substantially better at making money than most people, and that includes the extent to which he is able to capitalize on his own success.

B. Victor Nikiforov is better at not spending money than he usually gets credit for in fandom.

C. Victor Nikiforov is able to understand disparate financial situations and help others navigate them to their success.

One brief note: I’m sure someone is going to say “I don’t see it like that!” which will be entirely not surprising, since this is a headcanon and not a canon. You don’t have to headcanon Victor as a financial genius! But this is why I do!

All of the 7,000+ words and 22 points in support of that follow after the jump. I apologize for any formatting issues but I’m doing everything on my iPad and Tumblr is apparently not well suited for outline architecture that occasionally goes four levels deep? Argh.

(Edited to add: I know this is long, but point 16.B. is my favorite and please read it because I love Victor so much.)

1. Let's start with this post from Johnny Weir on the economics of skating. I mentioned this in my original post, so I'm not going to go into too much detail here. Suffice to say that skating is an expensive sport, probably one of the most expensive sports.

You need gear. If you're skating competitively, you need good skates--and if you can't afford good skates, you're never going to skate competitively, and you're never going to be found. You need lessons, and coaching, and rink time, and choreography, and costumes. Add in--for higher level athletes--trainers and gym time and ballet lessons. Skating is a sport and an art and it charges double time for all of these things.

2. Skating is a much harder sport to monetize than most, and it pays dividends for a very short space of time. It is instructive to thumb through something like the Forbes list of world's highest paid athletes to see where people get their money from. The list is here: https://www.forbes.com/athletes/#dc1a9bd55ae5

2.A. Team sports like football, baseball, basketball, and soccer (showing my American ways, sorry) have regular games which produce steady income. They have teams, which have fanbases that can be built up over the course of decades, and which result naturally from geography. Merchandizing for those teams is purchased to show not just a like for an individual player but an allegiance to the team and a membership in a club. These sports are much, much easier for athletes (and others) to make money off of for that reason.

2.B. You don't start hitting athletes from non-team sports until #14 Sebastian Vettel (auto racing), #16 Novak Djokovic (tennis), #17 Tiger Woods (golf). (I cannot express my disgust that Serena Williams is only #51 on that list, given that she is one of the greatest athletes of our time, but this is an entirely separate discussion, goodbye.) All of those sports allow for much greater longevity in the sport than figure skating, which means more time to build a fan base, which translates into more income. Those three sports make up most of the non-team well-paid athlete lists, and they fall into two categories.

2.B.i. Golf & Tennis: These are sports that have, um, how to say it, a particular cachet as country-club sports. They are things that even people who are extremely bad at them will do, or at least purchase the accoutrements of doing it, so that they will Fit In to the Right Place. That means that popular athletes in these fields can be used to market heavily to wealthy country-club goers and those who wish to appear to be the same. (This is part of the reason why Serena Williams is not much, much higher on the list. You're smart. You can figure it out.)

2.B.ii. Automobile racing: I am not best suited to explain the appeal of automobile racing, but suffice to say the demographics and nature of appeal is quite different from figure skating, and I can’t imagine that anyone is going to fight me on this point.

2.B.iii. Figure skating is clearly more popular in the YOIverse than in our universe, although more on this in point #6 below. This means that Victor almost assuredly has a larger fanbase than, say, Yuzuru Hanyu would today.

2.B.iv. That being said, there are reasons why even a more popular figure skating sport would yield substantially less money on a yearly basis for its top billers than some of the items on that list.

2.B.iv.a Figure skating events are fewer and further apart than most other events, and while this is somewhat a function of popularity, it is also largely a function of the fact that when people see events, they want to see skaters do jumps, and jumps are really, really hard on the body. Skating more would lead to more injury.

2.B.iv.b. There isn't a "team culture" around skating--it's about an individual. It takes time to build up a fanbase, and for the vast majority of skaters, by the time your fanbase is well-known outside of the avid followers of the sport, you are on the verge of retirement.

2.B.iv.c. There is very little to sell that is unique to your sport. For some sports, you can sell jerseys, or even general gear as in "Serena Williams uses this tennis skirt!" Because skating is almost uniquely part performance, part sport, this is much more difficult to achieve. Skaters perform in individual costumes that cost thousands of dollars. This is impractical merchandise to sell.

This does not mean that there's no way to make money in skating! There is! I will go into it later! Just that the monetizing of skating is a much, much harder thing to accomplish.

3. I know what many of you are saying. "But shysweetthing, Russia is different than the US." This is true. For instance, while we here in the US leave skating to (basically) the super-wealthy, with zero support available except where you can cobble it together from gofundmes and the occasional helpful check from a kind individual, Russia (and Japan!) both have actual state support.

3.A. This is true today. Historically, though, this has not always been the case, and it's relevant to the sport. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, and for a period of maybe 10-12 years, there was very little state support for skating. Russia basically lost a generation of figure skaters because of this. Brief discussion here: https://www.nytimes.com/2014/02/05/sports/olympics/in-russia-skating-booms-again.html?_r=0 It wasn't until around 2001 that skating resources began to come back, and not until maybe 7 or 8 years later that they started scouting rinks early to identify child prodigies.

3.B. Canonically, Victor has been skating since he was a child (source: http://yoimeta.tumblr.com/post/154990523062/lookiamnotcreative-has-anyone-done-this-yet), which means he started skating in maybe 1996 or 1997. He won the Junior World championship at 15 (same source), which is around the time of the resurgence in Russian state support for skating.

That leaves a lot of uncovered skating expenses in young Victor's pre-championship life. By the time Yuri Plisetsky came around, there were skating scouts again looking for great athletes to discover. Victor did not have that benefit. While Victor probably received a modest stipend/has skating expenses covered after he became a champion, he was very likely on his own in terms of support in the crucially formative years on his way to becoming one. I'll come back to this.

3.C. Russia doesn't provide as much support as Victor's apparent wealth indicates. I cannot for the life of me find this interview although I've searched for it extensively, but apparently I'm missing the keywords. In one of Kubo's interviews, she mentioned that she happened to be on the same flight as Evgenia Medvedeva after she'd won gold at worlds, and lo and behold, Medvedeva trooped back into coach.

3.D. As an additional datapoint, Japan also provides some degree of support for its skaters, and yet see this (https://toraonice.tumblr.com/post/162732055900/sinkingorswimming-victors-flowercrown-okay-so#notes) about how Shouma Uno says he isn't making a profit on skating right now. Like, damn. Again, skating is more popular in the YoIverse, but no matter how you slice it, Shouma Uno is one of the top 5 male skaters in the world (at least) (don't argue) and he's not making a profit.

3.E. Given the history at play here, Victor Nikiforov should actually be given substantially more in-universe credit for Russian stipends and expenses (as Plushenko should in our universe). Victor would have been the face of Russian skating while there was a resurgence of the sport.

He's the one who would argue about what skaters need and yes, you should cover this fee, and yes, we need to have a resistance trainer at the rink who understands pliometrics. Victor Nikiforov wasn't given these things simply for being a figure skater, the way that Yuri Plisetsky was. Victor Nikiforov almost certainly would have been involved in the creation of the current system of support, thank you, and would not have been a simply passive recipient.

3.F. (As a total aside from this, this is a great discussion of institutional support for figure skating in the US and Canada, which I deposit here for all your fic needs: http://www.twofortheice.com/price-skating-glory-part-2-institutional-funding/ Please note that all this "Yuuri gets a scholarship in the US" thing is...so highly unlikely, simply because the scholarship funds in the US are distributed by the US Skating Federation and...are thus unlikely to be given to a foreigner.)

4. Let's talk about Victor before Victor was Winner McWinnerson. Canon leaves a pretty blank hole about Victor’s history between the ages of 17 and 22. We know, canonically, that he was the world champion in Sofia as a junior. We know he's the five-time consecutive World Champion and Grand Prix final winner, so he has five years of being Winner McWinnerson. Canon hints that he won an Olympic gold--he wears a Russian Olympic team jacket, so he's definitely gone, and one of the medals he waves in his self-introduction in Episode 10 appears to be a gold medal from the 2006 Olympics (http://itshawkeybaby.tumblr.com/post/154176904080/look-at-the-medal-that-is-donut-shaped-in-the). So...what happened in those five intervening years? Probably a lot of things.

4.A. Puberty. We see a very different body type between 16 year-old Victor and current Victor, and he almost certainly had to relearn his center of balance and how to do jumps et cetera et cetera, which meant that he probably had a period of adjustment where he wasn't doing that well.

4.B. Injury: Victor possibly suggests that he's been injured in the past.

Conclusion: before Victor was the Living Legend, Victor almost certainly has had periods of financial distress. Victor also knows that his success is ephemeral and that he has basically no damned job skills but skating. If Victor is spending all his money he is a freaking idiot. (Victor is not a freaking idiot. Getting to that.)

5. Here is a not-quite exhaustive list of Victor's potential income sources, and how they factor into his income.

5A. Prize money: We should almost certainly assume that the prize money in YOI-verse is higher than it is in the current universe. The current universe prize money is dismally low. Take this listing here: http://soyouwanttowatchfs.tumblr.com/post/153867523490/hey-i-have-always-wondered-how-much-money-figure I know, I know, $25,000 for winning the Grand Prix final sounds like a lot of money, but as a figure skater, you really only have about 7 total events where you can win real prize money per year: Two Grand Prix qualifying events, the Final, your national competition, either 4C or Euros, Worlds, and WTT (if it's available).

Add in that the cost of attending each event is significant: You need to get yourself there, have a hotel, have a place to train, eat well (which is not easy to do when you're traveling) and so forth, and provide the same for your coach. Some of these costs will be born by the RSF on Victor’s behalf, but some won't--especially if you want to get there a day early, or want to fly business/first instead of coach.

Put it this way: If Victor flies first class to Japan for Worlds, he will lose money on the event if he doesn't hit the podium. Yuuri's fourth place finish at the Rostelecom cup got him $3000.00, which probably means that he only lost about $1,000 on the event, and that's with Victor not charging him coaching fees.

Associated costs for an event will bump up some in YOI verse because the sport is more popular, of course, but there will be corresponding increases in costs--because the sport is more popular, hotels will be more expensive to compensate for larger crowds, trainers, nutritionists, and the best sports massage therapists in the area will be in greater demand because there's more at stake, and so forth.

My point with all of this is not to say that Victor is not making a crapload of money; he is. It's just to say that non-Victor people who are, maybe, just top 10, are probably not earning all that much money, and there’s probably at least an order of magnitude of earning between Victor and Chris (and don’t think that Chris is above feeling jealousy here.)

5.B. Non-skating speeches, appearances, et cetera: Some of these he will do for free (e.g., Good Morning America, because it's worth the publicity), and others he will charge for. My guess is that Victor can probably command about 30-40,000 on an appearance, assuming that he's an excellent public speaker. (This puts him about on the level of Neil Gaiman.) However, it seems unlikely to me that he'd want to schedule lots of these events given his schedule. Victor probably has a bog-standard cheesy inspirational speech that he gives to Google about Never Giving Up! and Getting Over His Injury! and Working Super Hard! You can Do It To!

5.C. Advertisements: Victor almost certainly advertises for skating gear, clothing, and other manufacturers. I'll talk about his image later, but think about the number of athletes that advertise for brands outside their sport. It's actually quite small, and only for household names. Victor has a leg up on his competition because he's hot and considered desirable, but this particular train almost certainly wasn't available to him until he was established as Winner McWinnerson.

5.D. Merchandise: Victor likely collects a royalty on licensing his name and image for T-shirts, posters, and other merchandise.

5.E. Participation in Ice shows: Victor participates in ice shows and is paid for his participation. I suspect that the ice shows provide transportation/hotel + stipend. For someone like Victor, that stipend is probably pretty decent--$30,000-$40,000 or so--and the travel is first class. Victor probably does not do ice shows that would net him less than that. For your average skater, that check is probably more like $3,000-$6,000 and sardine class travel. Where I'm sourcing this: This discussion on the Golden Skate forum (free login required to view). http://www.goldenskate.com/forum/showthread.php?50195-How-Much-Do-Skaters-Get-Paid-For-Shows&styleid=5 Michelle Kwan was listed as getting $15,000 a show, back when skating was much more popular than it is now, so I'm bumping this up for Victor.

5.F. Since I keep mentioning that skating is more popular in the YOIverse than present reality, I need to point out that a major difference between our reality and the YOIverse is Victor Nikiforov. He is the face of skating. If the sport is prominent in YOIverse it is because the spokesperson for that sport is Victor. He's the non-doping, clean-cut, sexy-as-hell everyone-wants-him guy that everyone calls for a comment on any skating related matter. He has been utterly dominant for years, and he’s never a jerk. You cannot say that skating is more prominent in the YOIverse without recognizing that Victor Nikiforov is almost certainly substantially responsible for that prominence. This, too, must be attributed to Victor.

6. Let's talk about the distribution of gains in an area like skating. Like all income distributions in highly competitive fields, it's a power-law distribution with the top earners earning TONS of money and almost everyone else making close to nothing. At this link there's a fantastic graph of what the distribution looked like for prize money in the 2014-2015 season. If you can't tell from that graph, basically, TL;DR, a handful of people are winning all the prize money in skating.

The same is probably true--but magnified--for the non-prize-money rewards above. If you aren't winning substantial prize money, nobody wants to hear you give inspirational speeches, nobody will be convinced to bank with Bank of the Egret because of your ad, et cetera et cetera. You may get to go to ice shows, but you're essentially interchangeable and your check will be substantially smaller. This is relevant to our current discussions for two reasons:

6.A. It gives us some idea what Victor's top earning potential is (high).

6.B. It tells us that before Victor reached his current level of income, he was almost certainly making somewhere in the "barely comfortable" range. I'll come back to this later, too.

7. This concept probably has a real economic name but if it does, I have forgotten it and Google isn't loving me. (It might be net present value, but I'm not sure this is adequate.) For now, I'm going to call it "effective salary"--that is, the amount of money that you effectively have to spend, given the costs (or perks) of your job.

7.A. If your job gives you meals for free, that raises your effective salary--money that you would otherwise have spent on food is now free to do other things for you. If your job provides you housing for free, that raises your effective salary. If your job requires that you wear, say, a suit and tie all the time, that lowers your effective salary.

7.B. There are also jobs that have a lower effective salary if you properly account for the present-value of costs imposed in later years by current conduct. As an example, let's take football. People sometimes bitch about how even unknown 18 year old players in the NFL get paid ungodly amounts of money. The truth is, though, many of those unknown players, they are almost certainly operating at a loss if you account for the present value of future costs. Since almost 30% of NFL players will develop Alzheimers or dementia as a result of their playing, taking into account future lost income and years of skyrocketing health care costs, a million dollars a year for two years is probably operating at a loss for those players.

7.C. Skating is almost certainly a sport that operates--for most players--at an effective loss, even if that year's balance sheet appears to be in the black. This is because it imposes an incredibly high toll on the body. Victor is almost certainly going to be dealing with early arthritis and chronic hip/joint pain. We don't really know what the long-term toll of this will be because Victor is the first generation of skaters that skated under the new system that so heavily emphasized quads and jumps.

I'm putting this out there simply to say that any skater who isn't saving a crapload of money, is going to end up paying the costs of his skating career at a point when they no longer have the proceeds to support them. We'll talk about Victor's saving money later.

8. Whew. Now we've gone through how Victor gets money. Let's recharacterize them: Victor gets money by (a) being good at skating, and (b) monetizing his personal image, which he has developed into a platform by being good at skating. The point of much of the above is that (a) is actually not an incredibly lucrative source of income. There isn't that much money out there even in the enhanced YOI-verse to do much more than give skaters a semi-comfortable living, and to (maybe) save enough to deal with future costs of skating. (b) is where Victor makes all his money, so let's talk about Victor's image.

8.A. Victor's image is canonically calculated to a degree that no other skater manages. He thinks about what stories he is telling the audience, and micromanages the story he is telling to all degrees: commissioning his own music, choreographing it himself, and so forth.

8.B. Victor's image is canonically pervasive. Minako very firmly believes that Victor is a playboy, and that he is also (simultaneously) incredibly nice to his fans. Ditto for Nishigori. This is a tightrope to walk. Think about what this means--there is no footage out there of Victor snapping at some fan who just got on his last nerve, no pervasive rumors of him being a shithead to staff. Victor Nikiforov is just an incredibly hot, handsome, nice guy who has that tantalizing whiff of availability, and if only you were wearing this cologne... Whew.

8.C. Victor is canonically incredibly savvy about his image. At some point, he must have realized that his image had gotten away with him. "Holy shit," thinks young virginal Victor at some point, "they think I'm...uh...what?" But what does Victor do? He accepts what the audience thinks of him, and he runs with it--with his only goal being to surprise and delight them so that he doesn't lose their favor. Victor makes a point of telling Yuuri and Yurio that they don't get to choose their image, and so they need to learn to express things that aren't natural to them.

8.D. This is again an aside, but let's think about the Victor that nobody really knew? Look at even his friendship with Chris--even that is filtered through the Fake Victor image. Nobody wanted Victor for Victor until that moment on the beach with Yuuri. A moment of silence for the Victor whose personal self was pushed aside for the relentless rapacity of his public image, please. *bows head, wipes away silent tear*

Again, I see people treating Victor’s image as something that Victor simply fell headfirst into by virtue of his godlike skating, but the truth is that this is something that Victor has managed and pursued. Victor is good at monetizing himself.

9. Let's talk about those ice shows again. VICTOR RUNS HIS OWN ICE SHOWS. He does it for Onsen on Ice (by implication; it's "Victor Nikiforov presents" and Victor did not get to be where he is by ignoring the value of his own damned name) and he does it for Victor and Friends, and those are just the two that we see.

This deserves it's own bullet point since this is HIGHLY RELEVANT to Victor's genius. Running your own ice shows when your name is a draw is substantially more lucrative--see the estimate in the above link from the Golden Skate that Yuna Kim's ice show took in a profit of about a million dollars. Stop. Take a deep breath. Compare that to what Victor could command for performing in someone else's ice shows. Victor can get maybe $40,000 to perform in an ice show, and maybe $200,000 to run an ice show.

(Onsen on Ice wouldn't have generated that much profit; there wasn't the time to ramp up ticket sales, and the venue wasn’t optimal either.) This is not something that most skaters are generally able to do. Victor is an entrepreneur, dammit, and I want him to get all appropriate credit.

10. While we're talking about giving credit to Victor, let me make one thing clear. I swear in this point because this is eye-rollingly infantilizing ways that Victor gets treated.

Victor (with the help of appropriate professionals that he handpicks himself) manages his own damned finances.

Yakov does not manage Victor's finances. I've seen this one come up a bunch of times. The implication is that Victor is irresponsible and so Yakov handles things. This is ridiculous for a number of reasons.

10.A. Victor Nikiforov is a grown-ass adult of 27 years who canonically has a "zero" under his cooperation skills and never does anything that Yakov tells him to do. It is flatly unbelievable that it is in his character to just hand his finances off to Yakov and allow him to manage them.

10.B. Yakov does not have the damned time to be an accountant/babysitter. Inevitably, of course, he does have to do some things that resemble babysitting, and I'm sure he has some rules for conduct for those who skate at his rink that relate to RSF morality rules/skating health. That being said, he is a damned good skating coach. He coached Victor. He coached Georgi who is not terrible. He coaches Yurio. He coaches Mila.

Yakov is a coach for champions, and that is an incredibly specialized skillset. He does not have the time to mess around with his skater's finances, and he absolutely did not develop the necessary skillset. Maybe he hands them a list of "dos and don't"--"don't forget to save money for taxes" for instance, or "hire an accountant as soon as you're making enough"--but general financial management, or acquisition of merchandising opportunities, is not his bailiwick.

10.C. While we're at it, the coach-student relationship between a world champion and a world champion coach is nothing like a student-teacher relationship. The world champion has to bring their own thoughts to the table. The world champion can fire their coach at any minute if the relationship isn't working. There is very little disparity of power between them.

Victor and Yakov's relationship is one of respect, not one in which Yakov holds power over Victor. On a more mundane approachable level, I would say that the relationship is much more like a client-realtor relationship. A good realtor will give you excellent advice on maximizing your property's curb appeal. You can choose not to take any of it. You can walk away and use someone else as allowed under your contract. An unethical realtor can mess up a client in many ways, but a savvy client is unlikely to get played.

10.D. If Yakov actually had any control over Victor's finances in canon, don’t you think he would force Victor to stay in Russia instead of going thousands of miles for a skating video-booty call? Yes. Yes he would.

10.E. I understand that sometimes fic writers need someone to conveniently impose limits on Victor, because having a character who has a shitload of money means that there are many monetary problems you can't have in a fic. That's cool, it's fine, but let's be real, this is just a convenience of the fic, and God knows that if any of my above points are inconvenient in a fic I will magically unheadcanon them myself. That being said, it's completely and utterly irrational to imagine that Yakov plays such an actual role in Victor’s finances.

10.F. Look back at where Victor makes the majority of his money. YAKOV CANNOT DO THESE THINGS. Yakov is a skating coach. He is unlikely to have a firm understanding of what rights of personality Victor has in the global intellectual property market and what he needs to have put in a contract in Korea versus in California. He is unlikely to know what the going rate is for advertisements for top-level athletes. He is unlikely to know when he can make a client walk away from an exclusivity clause and when it's a given. He probably might give him an idea if the offered compensation for an ice show is low, but that's about it.

Yakov is a damned good skating coach but these other things require a team of people. Victor almost certainly has a booking agent, a merchandising agent, a modeling agent, an events team that helps manage the ice shows he does put on, in addition to accountants and investment bankers.

11. Victor probably receives tons of things for free. People seem to think that just because Victor has $7,000 sunglasses, or has driven a million-something dollar pink convertible, that he shelled out his own money for that. Victor is a celebrity who gets instant airtime wherever he shows up. Brands send him things. The classic car rental place in Tel Aviv where he picked up that convertible paid for him to come and drive it and Instagram himself in front of their front office. Victor does not need money to buy things.

12. In addition, many of the things that Victor spends money on that gets characterized as "extra" is spending on legitimate business expenses that contribute to his bottom line.

12.A. Yes, his costumes cost on the order of $5000. This is a business expense that is absolutely necessary to maintain his image. He's not going to be the guy that everyone wants to be--an image that nets him tons of money from 1-3 above--if he's wearing an old T-shirt over jeans as his giant romantic costume. He has an image, and he's not going to practice false economy by hurting his image.

12.B. Yes, he flies first class. Flying first class allows him to arrive in much better shape, better-rested, with less chance of cramps and blood clots. The dude is 5'10", and his body is his greatest asset. He didn't get to be one of the oldest reigning champions of his sport without learning to treat it well.

12.C. Let's talk about the times when Victor critiques what Yuuri is wearing, because I think these are mischaracterized as Victor being extra, when it’s actually Victor being savvy. There's that tie, and his suit, both of which Victor does not like. This is not just Victor being a fashionista.

Victor understands that you need to dress for the job you want, and if Yuuri is constantly dressing like a college student with a $10 tie and an ill-fitting suit, nobody's ever going to take him seriously as a business person and potential business partner. This is why he buys Yuuri a damned suit.

Notice that at no other time in the show does he ever criticize Yuuri's clothing. He only does so when it's related to business.

12.D. Ditto for having all his costumes shipped from Russia. I'm not sure how much that cost him, but it sure was cheaper than Yuuri/Yurio paying another $4000-$5000 a piece for their own costumes, and see above about dressing for the job you want.

Wearing a great costume at Onsen on Ice will make people take the event much more seriously, and since Victor is RUNNING it, this is not a selfless move. Having them wear Victor's costumes helps keep Victor in the public eye, and keeps interest in his prior career, which helps keep his income stream level.

13. Victor exhibits signs of frugality in his every day life.

13.A. As extra as we say Victor is, let's take a look at his room in Hasetsu.

What does he have in here? A sofa. A king bed, which isn't particularly expensive in the grand scheme of things, and besides, we all know Makkachin is a bed hog. Books. Lamps. A set of Russian dolls. A framed picture of himself which he probably stole from Yuuri. Aside from the statue (?! what the hell Victor), this is not a lavishly furnished room.

13.B. Victor's the one who worries about the strength of the Euro when they're shopping in Barcelona.

13.C. Victor's apartment in St. Petersburg, as nice as it is, is an apartment, and not, like, Lillia's mansion. He actually lives in a very reasonable space for a person of his income.

I mean, it’s nice! It’s very nice! But he doesn’t even have a large screen TV.

13.D. Victor has no problem staying in an unused banquet room in Hasetsu for a year even though if he were actually as spoiled as everyone imagined, he would get his own damned apartment. He never acts like he's slumming.

13.E. I know everyone talks about how freaking extra that pink convertible is, but why does nobody talk about the vehicle that Victor canonically purchased to transport himself while he was in Hasetsu?

It’s not even a three-speeder!

Look at you, Victor, spending as much as 10,000 yen.

14. Because someone will bring it up, here is a brief note about the one totally extra thing that Victor does is not a great money maximization choice: Victor's move to Hasetsu.

14.A. I’m gonna come right out and say that this was a bad economic decision, in the sense that it will cost him a lot of money, and the decision is executed in a way that maximizes that decision for many reasons, including:

14.A.i. He almost certainly loses any funding he gets from Russia.

14.A.ii. The speed of the decision almost certainly pissed off some long-time people he has worked with, who would have preferred that he try to be the World Champion for the sixth time.

14.A.iii. He ships all his stuff internationally via FedEx for god's sake has the man not heard of ground transportation? (For the record, he almost certainly shipped his luggage as a pallet through them--not as expensive as the package rate, but still, Victor, wow.)

14.B. It was nonetheless the right decision for him to make. Yes, even the FedEx thing.

14.B.i. Victor knows he needs a change and he needs it desperately.

14.B.ii. He knows that the decision is on its face so irrational to the outside world--he's moving to Japan for a guy he danced with for one night, to do something he's never done before--that he cannot give himself a way to back out or he might get cold feet.

14.B.iii. He needs to make the decision so complete and irrevocable that people--Yakov, the three agents mentioned above--will have a hard time talking him out of it.

That's why he ships all his stuff to arrive immediately. His decision is made fast so that nobody has the chance to talk him out of it. (Yurio tries.)

This is not a money maximizing choice, but it is the right choice nonetheless. Being a financial genius does not mean always putting money first. In fact, that is a particular form of financial distress. Being a financial genius means making your money work for you rather than the other way around, and this is an example of Victor doing exactly that.

15. I'm now going to circle around to some of the breadcrumbs that I've laid here. I've said before that I think it's pretty clear that Victor has not always had access to the kinds of money that he has now. Before he got RSF support, money was probably tight. Between the ages of 17 and the current onset of Winning All the Things Forever at 22, he probably didn't have access to tons of money. Victor survived.

Furthermore, I think that these periods of temporary imperfection probably made him a much, much better financial manager. You are better at budgeting for crises and future loss of income after you’ve expereinced it once. 15.A. He is less likely to spend all his money. I know that we are talking about income in the millions, and it's hard to think about spending income in the millions, but tons of celebrities manage to do just that every year.

15.B. Loss of prior fame means that Victor is more aware that what he has is temporary. His image is driven by his winningness, and he's getting close to the end of his natural career.

15.C. Knowing that this period is short means that he has dumped a lot of effort into maximizing the results--so much that he really hasn't had time to do anything else.

16. Now something completely different: Victor notices the signs of income distress in others and acts accordingly to help alleviate it. (I cannot tell you how rare this property is in people who are rich now, and have always been rich. It is so rare.)

16A. Let's talk briefly about what Victor was expecting to find in Hasetsu and what he got. Victor probably got a translation of what Yuuri said to him in Japanese--when Yuuri invited him to stay at his parent's resort--and what he was thinking to himself was, oh, Yuuri's parents own a resort.

For the reasons mentioned above, most people who are in skating are usually pretty wealthy. Yuuri was unusually blessed with non-financial resources--a skating rink that let him skate there when they were closed, a childhood ballet teacher who is a close friend of his mother's--that allowed him to develop.

I suspect what Victor imagined was something a little bit more like "his parents have desks in the office at a major seaside resort that brings in millions" and a little bit less like "Yuuri's mom personally does all the cooking."

It takes Victor a while to adjust to the reality of Yuuri's family--when he first arrives, he asks them to take his luggage up to his room because he has no freaking idea that the onsen does not have a staff. When Yuuri himself starts hauling his luggage along with another uniformed staff member, he starts to wonder. Then Yuuri introduces the other uniformed staff member, and Victor discovers it’s his sister, and oh my god, you mean to say that very nice woman who personally brought him his dinner is Yuuri’s mother, and the guy who explained how an onsen works was his dad? The only staff at the onsen is Yuuri’s family?

Yuuri is a rarety in figure skating--he’s someone who doesn’t come from money at all, whose family in fact in their entirety makes most of their living from actively working in the service industry.

But Victor very quickly figures out a score that quite frankly, I don’t think most people would get. Yuuri’s family is literally running the onsen, Yuuri’s sister never went to college, Yuuri is an outlier in the skating world, and holy shit, is this why Yuuri came back home from Detroit?

So imagine Victor gamely pitching in when he realizes there is no legion of staff to bring his luggage up to his room. While he's helping move everything, he’s recalculating his assumptions in his head. He comes to the totally reasonable conclusion that the reason Yuuri has been acting so bizarrely about his arrival, after coming on to him so strongly at the banquet and skating his program, is because he can't figure out how to afford to pay Victor.

(And honestly, this says so much about Victor--that someone at his level of income has the empathy to understand that someone else might be stressed about money.)

Victor immediately acts to try and alleviate what he thinks may be a point of distress--that is, he tries to take the issue of coaching fees out of the question between them in hopes that this will help fix everything.

(It doesn't at all because Yuuri doesn't remember the banquet, but good try, Victor.)

I almost feel badly that this point is stuck like 80% of the way through this post at 16.A. because it’s such an incredible moment that really captures how great Victor is, and I want to scream so loudly about how we don’t deserve Victor, because we don’t, we really don’t.

16.B. Let's talk about Hasetsu in general. Everyone (with the possible exception of Yuuri, who has been gone for five years and also is so wrapped up in his own head that he either avoids thinking about this or freaks out too much when he contemplates it and avoids it altogether) is aware that Hasetsu is rapidly losing people and falling apart.

All the other onsens have gone bankrupt. Minako has essentially no ballet students. Yuuri's parents have no back-up staff at the onsen, something that means that they have very, very little margin--not enough margin for either of his parents to ever travel to Yuuri's events, or to Yuuri's college graduation. The Nishigori triplets are constantly scheming about ways to bring attention to Ice Castle and their town.

When Yuuri first arrives in town, Minako basically expects him to help turn things around by spotlighting the town, and Yuuri's response is "I'm tired right now." Minako rightly thinks WTF, but lets him be Yuuri, because he has been Yuuri for a good long while and is unlikely to abruptly change into anyone else. The town is dying; Minako is barely staying afloat; the onsen is understaffed and there’s no money to pay anyone, and Yuuri needs to sit around and think about what to do next. Thanks, Yuuri.

Then Victor comes.

16.C. Victor's arrival immediately brings customers to the onsen--more customers than anyone has seen in recent years.

16.D. Victor is shown to frequently visit local businesses--Minako's bar, Nahagama Ramen.

16.E. Victor of his own free will tries to advertise Hasetsu as a tourist location during Onsen on Ice. He runs Onsen on Ice, which probably brings more money to Ice Castle in a single day than they pulled in last year.

16.F. Victor Nikiforov is the best damned thing to ever happen to Hasetsu. He is exactly what Minako hoped Yuuri would be, except he's not an anxious bean who can't imagine why anyone would like him, and so he can actually use the image and platform he has built up to make a difference.

17. Victor is not so spoiled that he is incapable of doing his own damned chores.

17.A. Victor had Makkachin as a puppy. I guarantee you that if he had not been able to pick up after himself his skates would have been chewed to bits. There is no amount of staff that will prevent puppy destruction.

17.B. Victor's room in Hasetsu is not a complete mess. Given how short-staffed the onsen is, he has to be picking up for himself to some degree. (No, there is no way that Yuuri is doing it for him, please do not suggest that, I love Yuuri but he is the WORST.) Compare to Yurio's space.

18. Let's calculate Victor's potential income!

No matter how you add up Victor's income from the above streams, he's probably bringing in maybe around 5 million a year after you deduct his agents' cut and so forth. The number of ice shows he can put on is relatively limited, since he's still training, and so forth.

To put Victor's earnings in perspective, in 2016, Beyoncé earned $54 million. No matter how you headcanon Victor's celebrity status in YOI-verse, (a) Victor does not have as monetizable an income stream as Beyoncé, as she sells the direct product of her labor, which is infinitely duplicable and (b) Victor is not as popular as Beyoncé. I love him but come on.

19. Let's figure out his net worth! I recognize that 5 million bucks a year sounds like a lot of money but many, many minor celebrities/lottery winners/sudden recipients of windfalls have absolutely no problem blowing through that and ending up with nothing. These earnings will be offset by taxation and all the costs of skating not born by the RSF: upgrades to first class, for instance, spa treatments, make up artists, legal fees because the man is signing contracts and he's not stupid enough not to hire a lawyer to look them over, another lawyer because he's probably incorporated a business or whatever the Russian equivalent is. Plus he needs to pay someone to take care of Makkachin, cover the costs of directly commissioning music for his own programs, etc.

While skating, he probably has around $400-$500 K in necessary business expenses--commissioning a piece that’s performed by singers and a full orchestra isn’t cheap--not counting expenses accrued by traveling for speeches/endorsement or the costs of running his ice shows. This leaves him with something (after taxes--I'm not super-familiar with Russian tax rates, but I'm guessing he will have to pay their personal income tax rate and their social security rate) like 2-3 million dollars net--that is, net of taxes and business expenses.

From that, deduct basic living expenses. From that, deduct anything he spends extra money on--food, clothing, cleaning expenses. And he's probably only been at the 2-3 million dollars amount for the last two years or so. It's taken time for the machinery to ramp up; for most skaters, it never ramps up.

At best, Victor has been Winner McWinnerson for five years. This gives us an upper and a (somewhat) lower bound on Victor's nest egg:

A. Upper bound: Victor's present net worth at present is something like $15,000,000.

B. Lower bound: Victor spent all the money he made and is in fact in debt. This is not the case, but honestly, if he were as stupid about money as people thought he was, he would be.

20. A moment here. Over the course of my life, I have (a) lived in a tent, and (b) worked with people who were so stinking full of money that they had no idea how anyone could function on what is even an average income, which has given me an interesting view of how rich people approach money.

For all that people say that Victor is extra, Victor has never been canonically shown to have any of the vices that typically accompany vast amounts of money being dumped in your lap. He flew first class (on Aeroflot, which is actually basically business, not first), instead of getting himself a private jet. He lives in a reasonably swanky apartment by himself; he didn't get a mansion with a personal chef and a full complement of staff. When he moved to Hasetsu, he didn't get a separate place (which he totally could have done); he stayed in a banquet room, which is (by Russian standards) small.

Victor does not live the life of the rich and famous. Victor lives a life that you could have on a lower six-figure salary.

As Yuuri's coach, when Yuuri is paying for his plane tickets, he has no problem flying coach if that's what needs to be done. Victor is vastly underspending his apparent earnings, adjusts to Yuuri's very different financial reality without standing out or making a fuss, and he never once complains about it. Can we please give this man a hand for how well he adjusts to someone else's reality?

21. Likewise, people who cannot learn to manage money quickly discover that money is like closet space: If you don't make an effort to impose order, you will run out, no matter how large the paycheck, or how gargantuan the closet.

You can figure this out by reading the deeply distressed letters written by people sobbing about how it's not fair that they're considered part of the evil 1% because they're not that rich and until you've tried living on $800,000 in New York you don't know what real poverty is. In one of my many cat-like lives, I worked with some incredibly rich, privileged people who would tell me that they were barely staying afloat as a couple making $400,000 a year in a not-super-expensive part of the country, and they could not possibly afford to drop even as much as $10,000 from their salaries without being unable to pay off their credit card debt. I've had colleagues who went into a flying panic if their monthly income went below $17,000 (this is almost a direct quote). These are people who are rich in revenue but who have never adopted spending habits that allowed them to become remotely wealthy.

Victor Nikiforov is not that person. Victor Nikiforov was able to basically quit a job that was bringing in possibly 5 million dollars a year (technically, he still has income streams that will continue through his time in Hasetsu, so it's not that cut and dry, but yeah) to go coach a man who might never be able to pay him.

Victor has never, ever freaked out about money, and if he were budgeting on a shoestring, he would have.

People simply do not do that kind of thing if they have made themselves dependent on their massive income.

22. There's a number that gets called the "safe withdrawal rate"--that is, it's the percentage of invested funds you can withdraw without risking the bulk of your principal. This number has typically been based on historical market performance and Monte Carlo simulations. That number is about 4%--if you can live on 4% of your savings, which are dynamically invested, your net worth will (on average, over time) not decrease. (Here's a good discussion of historically what this means.

A financially frugal, rational Victor, with his potential $15 million stashed in appropriately diversified asset classes as approved by his financial advisor, can safely spend $600,000 a year without really risking his principal. Victor does not appear to spend anywhere near $200,000 over the course of the show--which would be financially frugal for someone with even just $5,000,000 in the bank, discounting his earnings for that year.

Even if you assume that he paid for his clothing and that pink Cadillac all on his own, Victor is living--very comfortably--on a sum of money that he can retire on, without actually touching the principal.

TL;DR you can call Victor extra but he has not made any of the mistakes that befall most people who receive a financial windfall; he has done an incredible job of earning money that demonstrates real entrepreneurial spirit and an understanding of what he’s contributing, and he exhibits a compassion and a sensitivity with regard to the money issues that others have that suggests that he's very, very aware of what the value of money is.

VICTOR NIKIFOROV IS A FINANCIAL GENIUS.

#yoi meta #victor nikiforov #heart-mouthed financial genius #i just love him so much #please love him too

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gracevilliers · 7 years

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Housewarming Party || Grace & Various (Chatzy)

Grace was accustomed to parties, although this one was more casual than the affairs she had grown up around. Those were all pomp and circumstance, and though she could always fit in with those circles, she had settled on something low key for this event, thinking it might make people more likely to attend. Besides, there was something charming about watching a handsome, muscular man flip meet on a BBQ in a tank top.

This was her first real house party in so long, and Elena had been frantic trying to research what exactly happened at house parties, in particular house warming parties. Everything she found online showed lots of people dancing, drinking from red solo cups, and eating copious amounts of small foods. Also, she read that it was customary to bring a gift to a house warming party, and though she didn't actually know whose house she was going to be warming, she brought something she felt was appropriate, a candle. She intended to bring a fire starter log, but it was too bulky and strange to carry, so she opted for a small scented candle instead. Now she just needed to try and find who this house actually belonged to.

Alia had never tidied her own place up enough to ever entertain the idea of a house party, so to see Grace’s place in all its immaculate glory was… quite something, to say the least. And as a housewarming gift, she had put dashes of different fae blood to create a special mix, and had poured it into a tiny bottle - the contents of which were enough to last maybe three shots or so. Now, all she had to do was to find the host, but that was proving difficult in the crowded house. And so instead of going on a wild goose hunt for Grace, she instead approached the closest person to her: a woman of the sea, if her senses weren’t misleading her. “Hi,” she said with a grin. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Grace, do you?”

Elena greeted the woman who spoke to her with a wide smile, "Oh hi! Grace?" She pressed her lips together and shrugged, holding onto the candle with both hands, "No, I don't." Elena let out a laugh, "It's funny that you're trying to find someone, cause so am I. Except I'm trying to find whoever owns this house, unless that is Grace, cause then I guess we're looking for the same person."

Grace was doing her best to mingle with everyone. She only recognized a few people here, but she figured that was the idea. She extended her hand to greet the woman, recognizing her scent as merm without much of an effort. "I'm Grace. I don't believe we've met." She couldn't help but give Alia a small smirk as she approached. She was sure they'd spend some time together before the evening was done. "Darling, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please make yourself at home. I set aside some room for gifts on that table." She lifted her eyes to Alia, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek, since they had already become plenty familiar with one another already. "And Alia, a pleasure to see you again." In more ways than one.

Alia was just about to respond to the other woman when a familiar voice interrupted, and her grin only widened. She waited for the introduction round to make its way to her, and offering her hand to the mermaid, added, “I’m Alia.” She made a mental note to drop the gift off on the table. Accepting the kiss on the cheek and returning it with one of her own, she smiled. “Thanks for the invitation. You have… a really big home. Were those really hot springs I saw in the backyard?”

Elena followed suit, leaving the candle she had brought onto the table full of gifts. There were so many there, and so much room in this giant house, she was certain that even all of the gifts situated in one room wouldn't fill it up. "I'm Elena. Grace you have a lovely and very big house. It's probably the biggest I've ever seen, and you have hot springs in the back?" Elena was absolutely astonished, and it was clear on the excitement and surprise on her face.

"Well," Grace chuckled with a knowing look in Alia's direction, but looking back at Elena to keep her in the conversation as well. "It's not all about size. If Roisin had her way it would be the neighborhood's biggest 1950s roller-skating diner. That woman's taste leaves much to be desired. The springs are lovely though. There's a natural pool under the property that you'll have to experience for yourself some time."

Alia raised an eyebrow. “It’s not?” Her tone was intentionally skeptical, though she brightened at the idea of a roller-skating rink. “I like this Roisin already.” There was no doubt that Grace’s home left very little to be desired: if there was one thing Alia absolutely loved, it was hot springs. Perhaps because of the way they reminded her of home. “What do you think, Elena? Shall we take a dip in the springs later on?”

At the suggestion that they go for a swim the hot springs, Elena was at first, thrilled to be invited and lit up at the idea of relaxing in the steaming waters, but after the excitement wore off reality slowly kicked in. "Oh, I would love to, but I don't think I can. Hot springs are usually fresh water, aren't they? I can't really handle fresh water for long periods of time, but I would love to join and just chat, if that's okay?"

It was hard to miss Alia's flirtation. Grace was doing everything she could to metaphorically keep it in her pants in front of her guests, but her little chuckle at Alia's words promised more to come later, if they had the opportunity. "Roisin will be here somewhere. Just look for the beautiful woman with the ugly outfit. I think she was threatening bell bottoms." Grace gave an eyeroll. "Oh? I'm sorry, they are fresh, yes. But I suppose every species comes with its ups and downs. You're welcome to join us regardless."

Alia sent Grace an amused glance. “You seem to hold her in high regard,” she remarked dryly. Her mood dampened slightly as Elena informed them she couldn’t join them in the fresh water. “We don’t have to go to the hot springs now - how about we do something we can all enjoy? Like… a house tour, before our host gets too busy to entertain us?”

Elena never met nor heard of this Roisin person, but from the descriptions she was hearing, the woman sounded like quite the eccentric character. "A house tour!" Elena clapped her hands together, "That sounds nice! I bet a house like this has so many interesting stories as well. Is it haunted?"

Grace wasn't sure whether that was sarcasm in Alia's voice or not, but she chose to clarify. "Oh, she's my most dear friend. Just one with poor aesthetic tastes. And I think the party can spare me for just a few moments." She placed her wine glass on the counter and led her guests inside. "I certainly hope it isn't haunted given the amount I paid for it, but there was a nest of blood dolls in the basement when I first came to view it. Gave Iann and I quite the surprise."

Alia followed Grace as she led them into the house. “Blood dolls? What happened to them?” The way Grace talked about them made it seem like they weren’t there anymore. “Wait—Iann, as in, adorable Iann?” she asked, not caring that Grace most likely would have no idea about the moniker. “Did he help you move the blood dolls?” Iann had saved her life - she wouldn’t put it past him to help out with resettling other individuals as well.

"What exactly is a blood doll?" Elena asked curiously as they crossed over the threshold into the building. "I know Iann too, he seems to get around. He helped me kill a giant crab monster. Well, actually he just sat on it and it got squashed," she explained matter-of-factly.

Fane really wasn't sure whether coming was a good idea or a bad one, they had been sat in the Louis Armstrong airport back in New Orleans where he and Faye had been for the last week together when the invite had been forwarded by his progeny. A part of him had been sorely tempted to just say no, but aware his absence would likely be noted considering parties were... well, they were sort of his domain around Jamara he figured at least showing his face for a little time wouldn't be too bad. Explaining why his corvette sleekly pulled up outside and Fane climbed out getting Faye's door for her. With his gift tucked under his arm he headed toward the gate idly taking note of the decor through the shade of his glasses a small tilt to his head not allowing his uncertainty about being here to bleed through and projecting his typical air of confident nonchalance as he approached the gathering.

"The blood dolls? Oh, I had them all killed of course," Grace said with a casual wave of her hand, then immediately chuckled. "I'm joking, of course. They went with their new mistress to her new house in... Boston? Somewhere in New England? They were very pampered." Explaining what a blood doll actually was was a less casual task. Many people found themselves uncomfortable at the thought. "They're humans who enjoy being fed on, by vampires. Our kind sometimes take them in as live-in companions, but it's never been my thing." She changed the subject as quickly as she could. "Iann is... quite a character." She would have said more, but Fane's entry had stolen her full attention. She cleared her throat, waving him over. Bloody damn that tall handsome man and his ability to make any outfit look good. "Fane, dearest. I was just about to give a tour. Come and join us."

Fane tilted his head as the crisp English of Grace's voice cut through the garden, commanding the attention of all in the immediate vicinity and took a moment to edge his aviators down the bridge of his nose peering a little over the rim at her. A single dark brow arching at her greeting, but opting to keep things civil... for now. "Grace darlin'" he greeted smoothly a slight slant coming to his lips as his own English accent grew a little more pronounced as he drew nearer "pleasure... like always. You know, I'm almost surprised that I even got an invite." Especially considering how things went between them the last time they ran into one another but that was between them and likely none of the other guests needed to know those details. "A tour and no offer of drinks first? Tsk tsk Grace, what sort of host doesn't offer drinks to the newcomer?" it was said as a light needle nothing truly meant by it. That was simply Fane's humour at the end of the day, mildly sarcastic with a touch of mocking thrown in for good measure. He looked over at Alia and Elena with a wider smile taking the time to go over to each woman and press a kiss of greeting to their cheek "you're all looking lovely today ladies."

Alia paused, brow furrowing - and then rolling her eyes at Grace’s joke. “He squashed a crab?” she repeated, remembering the sea spirits well - though she couldn’t say she had squashed any that day down at the beach. When the newcomer arrived, she grinned at him. “Fane!” she greeted cheerfully, accepting the kiss to the cheek easily. “How have you been?” Turning to Grace, she added, “He does have a point. I haven’t managed to find my drinks, either.” Not that she really minded; she was more interested in looking around the house.

It was unwise to forget about Fane's charms. They came in multitudes. Certainly, Grace had changed over the years, and perhaps Fane had done the same, but that part of him still remained, it seemed, and that haircut was very flattering on him. She gave a quick glance to the woman at his side. They had met before too. Apparently, this was a small town. "Oh, how silly of me," she said, dragging her gaze back to Fane with an exaggerated eye roll and a vague smile. "What will everyone have?"

Elena turned when Grace began speaking to someone coming up the walkway. Her eyes landed on the familiar face of Fane, and while she was still new to the nuances of surface life, she picked up that there was some history between Fane and Grace. She smiled pleasantly when Fane pressed a kiss to her cheek in greeting, "You never sent me a message. I waited and waited," she feigned a frown, and then turned her attention to Grace when she asked about drinks, "Salt water for me! Unless you have margaritas. I had one recently and they're so good, especially with the salt around the rim."

Plucking his glasses off his face, Fane tucked them into the neck of his t-shirt giving a winning smile at Alia "oh me? Always getting up to some sort of trouble. Been in New Orleans the last week-- obvious from my tan" he deadpanned considering he couldn't tan anymore but grinned nevertheless. "Happened to deal with an alligator the size of a school-bus," his eyes widened utterly serious "no jokes, huge thing that creature, almost got shot in the process... But I'm in one piece, more or less, fun times all around I'd say." Fane pointed a little at her as she agreed to his point about drinks, "I'll never say no to a whiskey if you wouldn't mind darling?" He offered an apologetic smile at Elena then, "I know... I meant to, I never forgot but all this community town shenanigans the mayor loaded on us had me absolutely run off my feet and then this trip sort of snuck up on me entirely, I do hope you can forgive me? I'll make it up to you, promise."

That was twice he had called Grace darling now, and the word still stirred something uncomfortable in her, that strange feeling that came with a mixture of nostalgia and annoyance, conflicting unpleasantly. She had invited him though. She had meant what she said all those weeks ago about trying to move on, trying to make a new life. "You always did like whiskey, and I'm sure the bartender can make a mean Margarita. Alia?"

It seemed like Alia was surrounded by charmers today. “How did you manage to almost get shot when dealing with an alligator?” she mused aloud. “Was this another adventure for the museum?” And when Grace asked for their drinks, she added, “A margarita too, please.”

Elena perked up when Fane described his adventure, "Oh! That's a reference!" She gasped excitedly, practically bouncing in her sandaled feet, hair flipping, "I know that reference! It's from Harry Potter!" She was positively beaming, pleased with herself for understanding and being able to fit in so casually.

Grace gave a nod, excusing herself to disappear for a few moments only to return with a tray of drinks. Two whiskeys and two margaritas. When the tray was empty, she set it aside. "You must have so many stories I haven't heard," she said when she returned, giving Fane a long gaze. "Since you've been alive for several hundred more years than I was originally led to believe," she said with a shrug, keeping her tone pleasant, but him to read into it what he wished. "We'll have to make up for lost time some day. But first the tour, yes? Alia, you must be keen to see the bedroom," Grace said, placing a hand on the small of the naga's back.

Fane recalled his first attempt of trying to explain Harry Potter to Elena so her understanding had him snapping his fingers and pointing at her "that's the one! I'm guessing you've started to read the books at my suggestion? You should totally ask Faye about defence against the dark arts when you get the chance, and be sure to call it exactly that because that's what she teaches at the academy" Fane couldn't help but enjoy irking Faye with his Harry Potter references when it came to her magical capabilities. No matter how profound she was, there was no escape. As Grace returned his eyes slid over to her, taking the drink and keeping his own gift tucked under his arm for now. "I told you plenty of them, though circumstances were hardly ideal let's be honest" he answered with a slightly pointed glance in her direction but left it at that as she took on her role of hostess. Now wasn't the time for causing hassle or for spilling unsavoury truths to the populus. They could blame one another for eternity for all he cared, so long as he had alcohol he wasn't going to kick up a fuss.

“Pleasure trip?” Even to Alia’s ears, the words sounded illicit. “But that sounds exciting! Certainly an adventure, and even better that it wasn’t for work.” She grinned at Elena’s response, finding her enthusiasm catching. Taking one of the margaritas from Grace with a “Thanks,” she took a sip of it. The hand on the small of her back brought the tiniest of smiles to her face - she was a tactile person - though the tension between Grace and Fane soured it slightly. Flirtation was all well and good, but being used made her feel… well. It wasn’t a nice feeling. “I’m keen to see everything,” she said, if a little stiffly.

Despite enjoying the company of others, Iann wasn't particularly good at party settings, not when he didn't have some sort of purpose - like finding a certain person to ingratiate himself for favours or scoping the place out in the hopes of stealing something. Merely socializing in crowds, however, was just not something Iann ever got used to. Still Grace Villiers was essentially his first big 'commission', so to speak; and she did seem to have a sort of open-door housewarming, so he felt he should show up. Who knew - maybe ol' Gracie had more vampire friends looking to buy big property in Soapberry. He'd been drifting for a while, when he thought he saw Adorable Alia with the tall blond woman herself - and Villiers' hand hovering at the small of Alia's back. He pitched an eyebrow, and smirked slightly, watching with a slight curiousity at the gathered - and rather eclectic - group of people he knew.

Elena took one of the offered drinks, licking at the salt on the rim as it was her favorite part before sipping the drink. She saw that Grace put her hand on the small of Alia's back, and wondered if that was something necessary for a house tour. She wasn't sure, as this would be her first official one, and so she simply mimicked the action, putting her hand on the small of Grace's back.

Iann nearly spit out his mouthful of club soda when Elena gracefully rested her hand on the curve of Grace Villier's backside. Oh my god, if only Iann had a camera (he forgot his phone had one).

Grace could tell Fane was doing his best to be pleasant too. She wondered if inviting his partner to join them would ease things at all, but she seemed to have vanished in the crowd for a moment, probably having found a mutual friend to speak with. Never mind. At the touch of the merm's skin on hers, Grace stiffened slightly, but only momentarily, thanks to her lack of expectation. "Well, the more the merrier, I suppose," she chuckled, an arm around Elena's shoulder and the other around Alia. "Everyone here is so friendly. And we didn't even get to taking a dip in the springs yet."

At Grace's proclamation that everyone was so friendly, Iann hustled over, seeing it as a good opportunity to interject. "Ms Villiers! Geez, look what you did to the house, it looks completely different," Iann said, then grinned and gave Alia a friendly nudge. "Nice seeing you here, Alia. And you Elena." Iann winked at Fane. "You too I guess, Savin," he teased.

Alia brightened as Iann approached, almost wishing she wasn’t in her human feet just so she could nudge him back with her tail. “You’re right on time, Iann. Grace was just about to give us a tour.”

Iann couldn't help but ask, "Us? Or just you?"

Cassie saw the flyers here and there, but didn’t make much of it. After all, the name Grace Villiers, didn’t ring any bells. She was only further intrigued when she heard the name and mention of a house warming party multiple times through her errands or work day. Cassie eventually acquired the address, and made her way to the home, certain that even if she didn’t know the hostess she’d see someone familiar. She brought along a bottle of red wine and left it on a table near the entry way, feeling a little bit better about the random appearance. Weaving through the small clusters of people she picked up a few veggies from a tray to munch on. An eyebrow raised when she heard the hostesses name, Cassie approached closer.

Alia fixed Iann with a playful look. “Why, Adorable Iann? Are you jealous?”

"Maybe a little," Iann said, taking Alia's hand and putting it around his back and grinning a bit more.

Grace welcomed Iann with a smirk. "Everyone is welcome to join. It seems you are quite the little social butterfly, darling." Adorable Iann was a rather interesting nickname, although not entirely inaccurate. Flirtation seemed to be in the air in more ways than one. "A very quick tour. I can't leave my other guests for too long, you know."

Faye had made her way to the nearest bathroom as they'd arrived, making sure she didn't look too windswept after the ride over in the convertible. She checked herself in the mirror, turning her neck this way and that and checking her glamour. The long marks of Fane's fingers were hidden, as were the purple-black bruises that still lingered on her skin. She'd only glamoured them because well... she looked like someone had hurt her. So for sake of having to explain herself a thousand times, Faye had glamoured them over. For now. She quickly picked Fane's tall form out of the crowd and made her way over. "Miss anything?" she said sotto voice, unsure what the current going on were as her hand touched his back.

"Yes you can, Ms Villiers," Iann snorted as he looked around at the other guests. "We're obviously the most interesting group here. Oh, housewarming present --" Iann reached into his pocket and pulled out two matching magnets - one a rooster and one a cat, both beautifully carved and obviously craft-made. "Here you go. It's a cock and a pussy - traditional housewarming gifts."

Cassie still within earshot of Iann and Grace and a few of the others snorted when she side glanced to see Iann pull out the magnets. “Nice, really nice.” She murmured.

Iann heard Cassie's unmistakable voice (how could he mistake that persnickety mutter as anyone else) and looked over at her, only to find her eating vegetables of all things. "What the hell is that?" Iann asked, pointing at Cassie's carrot stick. "Did you - shit, are you trying to be like...vegan or something?" A vegan werewolf? Would Cassie go that far to avoid her wolfishness??

Fane had ended up losing interest in the tour with the level of flirtation that existed between his ex and the other women lingering around. The house itself was beautiful and thus for most of it his interest was taken by that he'd stopped by one particular painting when he felt a familiar hand at his back and his body swayed back into the touch relaxing as the familiar voice reached his ear. "Nothin' much," he answered honestly his voice low turning away to face Faye more directly "just social niceties I s'pose and Grace being... well, she's Grace."

Cassie turned and stepped closer when iann noticed her, glancing down at the last baby carrot in her hand. She wrinkled her nose at Iann and opened her mouth to stick out her tongue with mashed up orange carrot. “No, not really. It was the only thing I could find on quick walk through.” Cassie offered the carrot out ot her, “You want it? It’s rabbit food, truly. Trust me, i’m not ditching meat anytime soon."

Grace snorted at the gift, rolling her eyes and immediately affixing them to the fridge. "Well, since I like a little bit of everything, I'll display them with pride." She led her guests on a small tour, thankful that Fane seemed to have been distracted when his partner Faye rejoined him. She wasn't gone too long though. It would have been unseemly.

Iann mostly tagged along with the tour to watch Alia and Grace, since he'd originally given Grace the tour of the house in the first place. And there was only so much decor of rich fancy places that Iann was interested in - no, the two women were far more curious. His tagging along was probably a huge crimp in Grace's game, but he didn't care since he had Elena and Cassie to keep him company and he thoroughly harassed them both. "Do you two know each other? Elena, this is Pe - I mean, Cassie. Cassie, this is Elena."

Alia smiled at the not-vegan werewolf. "And I'm Alia," she added.

Elena she looked over at the brunette woman named Cassie and smiled, "Hi! It's so very nice to meet you," she bounced forward to give the other woman a hug.

"Oh right! This is Alia..." Iann said, looking abashed. "And this is the lady of the house, the Honorable, Esteemed Lady Grace Villiers."

“Hmm?” Cassie turned to the other woman, suddenly embarrassed and finishing the carrot in her mouth before offering her hand to Elena and pulling back when the woman was clearly bounding forward to hug her. “Oh-oh-“ She stuttered, looking unsurely at Iann and then nodding a quick hello to Alia as well.

Grace was beginning to think the merm hadn't been on land long. It made for an awkward but entertaining number of encounters. And Grace didn't even have to be drunk to enjoy them. "Oh, I could never go vegan either. There's plenty of BBQ food, for that exact reason."

Elena had finished off her margarita while on the tour, and her face had a nice flush to it now as her body wasn't used to alcohol. "You smell lovely," Elena complimented Cassie as she pulled back from the hug, "Like... vegetation," she smiled brightly and then clung onto Iann's arm, as he was so far the only person she knew most at the party.

Faye glanced around as Fane commented, giving a low hum in response. "Oh? You mean she's bein' a traitorous, murdering bitch?" Faye said so that only Fane could hear. "Not a great way to treat your guests..."

Alia watched, amused, as Elena wrapped her arms around Cassie, before turning to Grace. "I didn't know you had that many titles attached to your name."

Cassie lips curled into amusement at the compliment from Elena, and getting a closer smell of the girl herself, confirming she was a mermaid, some of the strangeness settled into place. “Thank you.” She said kindly, “That’s a new one, I assure you.” She looked over at Grace and smiled brighter, “Barbeque, that’s amazing. And great to meet you. I uh, left some wine by the front. I didn’t know what else to bring…"

Grace waved her hand. "Just Iann being dramatic as usual. Just Lady will suffice. I believe you need to be a judge to be 'the honourable'.” She chuckled, lightly touching Alia's arm and whispering that she would be back soon before disappearing to mingle with some more of the guests. She hadn't spoken to Faye since she had arrived and decided to take the opportunity, walking over with a blissfully ignorant confidence. "Faye, I'm glad you could make it. I had no idea you and Fane knew one another. I'm glad he still has excellent taste."

Iann looked down at Elena and jostled the merm gently, "Hey you. Having fun?" He looked up when Grace mentioned his name. "I'm not dramatic! I'm sure those are all her titles...impressed?" he grinned at Alia, as Grace drifted off to greet Faye and Fane chatting a few paces away. "What do you all think of her new home? I helped her find it."

Fane raised a hand to stifle a snicker at Faye's salty attitude. Struggling to help the smile that did appear on his lips as he responded softly "well... I mean, there's been no backstabbing yet but that doesn't mean there isn't time to end up like the Caesar salad being offered up outside with the barbecue... Watch out for friends wielding knives" he grinned at his history joke but when he noticed Grace approaching out of his peripheral and took a sip of his drink thankful he spoke before she was near enough to hear their conversation. Though her remark did earn a slight arch of his brow as he regarded her and then Faye with a marginal smile. "Oh we know each other," he agreed looking at Faye then "very well."

Faye saw Grace coming, and while she'd only met the woman once - and truly liked her goddammit - there were some things that Faye just couldn't look past. Though she wouldn't make a scene. She did have a tiny bit of tact about her. "Grace," Faye greeted in return, a smile on her face. "I was wonderin' when I'd run into you. I was startin' to think I was gonna have to hunt you down to say hello."

Otto stepped into the house, still tentative. He received an invitation and wasn't so gauche as to turn it down, but he didn't know Grace Villiers very well. Vampire social circles were tight-lipped when the wanted to be, years of having to keep themselves hidden. He aired on the side of caution with a bespoke suit Teddy had picked out for him long ago. His gift was a bottle of expensive wine and a wine-opener with a golden-lined agate handle. He'd grabbed both from a local shop before making his tentative way to the party.

Elena nodded emphatically, hair falling into her face so she pushed it back, "So much fun," she responded to Iann with a smile. "I drank a whole margarita all by myself," she boasted. "You found this house? That mustn't have been very hard. It's so big."

Alia grinned. "Somehow I doubt that. And maybe," she narrowed her eyes at him teasingly, nodding as Grace excused herself before turning her attention back on the group. "You did? It's a nice place, seems to suit her well. And the hot springs out back!"

Fane was forced to bite his lip a little to try and keep his smile from blooming and instead dipped his head reaching out and immediately placing a hand to touch the small of Faye's back in a soothing fashion "Faye" he admonished lowly "that's not how we treat our hosts..." even if her choice of words was amusing to say the least.

Grace couldn't really miss the intonation. It seemed Fane hadn't kept his new woman in the dark. Good for them, she supposed. She was more upset at Faye having turned out to be taken than she was by Fane having a new lover. It was funny how time changed things. "No hunting necessary, thankfully." She waved a hand at Fane's interjection. "Oh, not to worry. I don't mind a little banter. She's wonderful, Fane. You should be proud."

Cassie eyebrows furrowed as she listened to Faye and Grace’s exchange. She had no idea of the background the two women had, but she could easily tell through their body language, or perhaps more Faye’s that something was tense. She was going to keep out of it, and turned her attention to Elena talking about a whole margarita. “You found this Iann? I’m not surprised.” A teasing grin grew, “You should become a realtor."

"Wanna go look at the hot springs? They're - well. They're hot. Probably way more enjoyable in the winter, but then again you must enjoy basking in the sun, Alia. And merms like water. And werewolves..." Iann squinted at Cassie. "Well you should come along anyway." At Elena's comment, Iann grinned. "What kind of margarita? Please tell me it was lime." What was the alcohol tolerance for a merm, Iann wondered. He also wondered if tonight was the night to find out. "No - I - well I helped her shop for it. Grace wanted to buy a home, and I'm the guy who helps people find their right home, you see. Want another margarita?"

Faye smiled. "We do yeah. Quite well. And they say taste improves with age. Or so I'm told." The words were said lightly, and with no malice. And honestly, Faye felt only a slight irritation and rumble of ire in her chest. People could change. She knew this for a fact. But it was still a shock for Faye to have learned about Grace. But for the sake of propriety she really was doing her best.

Otto tried to grab Grace's attention so he could drop off the alcohol and free his hands. He took the opportunity to look around and see mostly strangers, acquaintances, or people he hadn't spoken to lately.

Iann laughed, "Pegs, I AM a realtor! Kind of. I mean, I show people houses and then I take a commission...so." He pointed at Cassie. "It's your fault, you got me all invested in houses, thanks to the Germaine house." He looked at Alia. "Where are you living again? Near Vinegar Tom?"

Cassie cringed at the mention of the hot springs. “Oh I don’t know. I’m not a very good swimmer.” But she was happy when Iann picked up on her realtor comment. “I’ll take that fault.”

Alia nodded. "In Vinegar Tom. Are you looking to rent a place there?"

Elena "What does a lime taste like?" She mused, "I don't remember. Is it green or is it yellow?" She mumbled, not meaning to say those words out loud. "I do want another margarita, but you should have found a hot springs made of sea water. I'm thinking of renting somewhere. Is Vinegar Tom a nice place?"

Otto approached Grace first, before disappearing from the room completely. "Ah, forgive me- I, well I don't mean to interrupt, um, your conversations. But I've brought you a gift and was wondering where I should place it?"

Iann "I'm looking to upgrade you, Alia. Unless you're in the market for a sugarmama instead..." he was being a jerk and he knew it, but it was Alia and she was adorable, like always. "Vinegar Tom is a dump, don't go there. Let me make you a good margarita instead," he nodded over to where the bar setup was, motioning to Elena and others to follow if they wanted. "Alia, what do you want to drink? Pegs, you too, if you're drinking. You leave the baby with Lopez?" Iann shooed the paid bartender away and picked up a small lime, showing it to Elena. "Lime. It's sour and tangy and goes well with salt."

"Oh I'm more than proud of her," Fane answered smoothly with the self-assured confidence of an individual that knew where he stood in terms of his relationships but for the sake of propriety he adjusted the box he had kept cradled under his arm for the time being having been about to hand it over. "But, considering this is your party..." Fane paused as Otto stepped in then his words falling to the wayside as he brought the box he'd been carrying back down to his side deciding to wait before he offered the item. Perhaps at a more quiet point of the evening.

Grace was impressed with Faye's wit. Her beauty spoke for itself. It had made itself abundantly clear the first time they had met. The number of women in this town who were considered eligible to her charms seemed to dwindle down every time she turned her head, and she had yet to find a man worth her time. "Well, it was nice to see you again. Hopefully you can also attend the gallery opening when it's ready." At the sight of someone trying to grab her attention, Grace excused herself again, greeting Otto with a light touch to the shoulder. "Ah, hello. This is lovely. I'll have enough alcohol to last me at least a week at this rate," she teased, taking the bottle gratefully. "Are you a friend of Roisin's? You're...Otto, yes? She mentioned you."

Elena leaned her elbows on the bar and looked at the small green fruit Iann held up before her, "It's cute."

"Lime's a little sour," Alia answered. "It's green. Lemon's the yellow one. There are some hot springs in the sea, but I don't know if there are any in Soapberry." She paused, and then laughed. "A sugar mama? What are you implying, Iann?" At the talk of Vinegar Tom, she added mildly "I like it just fine. --And I'll have another margarita, please."

"Margaritas for all," Iann said, because he really did enjoy making margaritas for obvious (and totally not stereotypical) reasons. There was just a succinct joy in salting a rim.

Otto "Roisin? I-" Otto swallowed and blanched at the name. He'd spoken to her, at some other mostly vampire gathering and it hadn't gone well. He was never the most, erudite, with his words but he certainly didn't expect so much vitriol. It left a bad taste in his mouth. "Uh, well I do know her, of her- I mean to say we met before, but ah- Yes, alcohol is the sort of standard house warming nowadays. Forgive me, had I known you better I would have gotten something more thoughtful. A book perhaps, I was thinking about bringing one of poetry but uh-" He had thought better of it an left it in the car while he went to the shops.

“Ugh, definitely don’t go to Vinegar Tom.” Cassie agreed with the rest. She scratched her nose before responding to Iann. “I guess I’ll drink, do they have mango margarita? And yeah, Lilo is home with Addie. This wasn’t super planned so, yeah-“ She let out a breath, “No babysitter."

Elena gasped at Cassie, "Do you have a baby? I haven't seen a baby in years!" She moved closer to Cassie, "Can I meet your baby?"

Grace exhaled. She must have misunderstood the context in which Roisin had mentioned him, but she was glad Otto had come. She needed more vampire friends in town. "There is nothing to forgive. I love wine, and the tall, dark and handsome strangers who deliver it to me. What do you do for a living, dear?" She wanted to keep him talking, anything to keep Roisin from coming up again after the initial stiffness her name had summoned in him.

Cassie was slightly taken off guard by Elena’s sudden and enthusastic response over the mention of Adeline. She blinked, “Yeah, I have a daughter. She’s home with her daddy right now though-“ She smiled weakly, “I’m sorry.” Cassie did feel a little bad, considering how excited the merm seemed. “I bring her out and about a lot, so I’m sure she’ll meet her eventually."

Faye nodded her goodbyes at Grace, her stomach rolling with mixed feelings. She hadn't sensed anything bad from the woman when they'd met. But... God, she needed a drink. "Do you want a drink?" she asked Fane. "I could sure use one."

"All I'm saying, Alia," Iann said, as he shook the mixer because fuck that blended nonsense, on the rocks was the best. "My pal Dani Savin - child of that Savin over there -" he nodded over to where Fane was, (dressed, honestly, like he was going to a gay fetish night afterparty after this party) "- has a loft with an empty bedroom. And if you haven't met Dani yet, that's fine. I know she'd love another roomie. I live there too, hm? Three's company, only you know. More...ah..." He tried to think of something. "Less...Mr Roper? I guess?"

"He is a professor at the University, as am I." Teddy stepped up next to Otto, offering a slight bow to Grace and mentioning, "I brought a token as well, but left it in the front hall. You must be laden with them by now. I'm Teddy Aynesworth, by the by."

Fane raised his glass already filled with liqueur that Grace had already happened to get him. "I've got one but I'll come with you to get another then maybe we can find a little more... acceptable company" Fane paused before adding "for once I don't want to actively cause a scene... Not yet at least." There was still time.

Grace didn't need to be greeted with a boy, but it was endearing, she had to admit. She wondered if her mild flirtations had summoned him. Her flirtation was harmless, merely how she tended to converse most days. "Nice to meet you, Teddy. I do enjoy a bit of academia. A noble profession."

Alia was glad to be in front of the bar instead of behind one for once, and was quite impressed as she watched Iann fix their drinks. “You’re a pro at this,” she remarked, and then glanced in the direction he had indicated. “I don’t know,” she said, frowning slightly. “I’m quite comfortable where I am.” Except in the winter, when her shitty heater hadn’t worked…And she had really liked Iann’s workshop, that time he’d fixed her up. “Maybe I can come visit you guys again sometime.”

Otto nearly choked at the last part as he handed over the wine. "I well, I- um," he swallowed, blinking as he persevered. Perhaps she was just being polite. Moreover, it was very dark in the room and she certainly couldn't make out much of his 5'8" frame self to conclude 'tall dark handsome' was in anyway applicable to the scrawny peevish thing he knew himself to be. "I- he's right, professor of vampire studies actually. I work mostly teaching fledglings."

"Probably not as good as you, I still need to see you at the Fainting Goat," Iann said with a grin, as he poured them all margaritas. He looked at Cassie. "No mango anything, but I'll add some mango liquer to it, should make it more sweet, hm?"

Elena maintained a bright smile as Cassie explained that her daughter was at home with her father. What an adorable landfolk image. "That's okay, besides, I don't think babies can have margaritas." There was some kind of age limit on drinking here, she wasn't sure how old the person needed to be to drink, but apparently it was old. "Maybe I should meet this Dani Savin," Elena started, picking up her margarita and licking the rim before sipping it, "I think I could live in a loft."

Teddy hummed in agreement with both Grace and Otto, continuing, "What made you want to open your lovely home to the town, if I might ask? You never know who might come traipsing through."

Faye nodded and they made their way to the where the drinks were being served. "Tequila on the rocks." She raised a hand in greeting to the people she knew, seeing Iann and Cassie, and then Teddy and Prof. Leitner speaking with Grace.

Grace 's eyes widened with interest. She had made the boy flustered. Perhaps he wasn't used to being openly complimented. Some people didn't know how to react. From Grace, it wasn't exactly 'false', she never outright lied, but it was all superficial. It was just how people in her circles had spoken to one another. "Vampire studies. Fascinating. It's very refreshing to live somewhere we can discuss these things openly." She had once contributed to a world that had wanted to destroy vampires. "Well," she shrugged, answering Teddy's question. "I'm new to town and I haven't made very many new friends yet. I wanted to change that."

Iann found the divide of the bar counter between himself and others comforting, it gave him a purpose and a design, so when Faye came over, he was happy to make the drink as the poor bartender stood there and fumed. Whatever; Iann would make sure buddy got his tips. "You should meet Dani Savin," Iann agreed with Elena. "And I thought you were happy living in the sea?" He nodded in greeting at Faye. "Having fun? Do - ah - do those two vamps know each other?" Iann asked of Grace and Fane.

“No mango?” Cassie repeated sticking out her tongue again, “Blasphemy.” She chuckled at Elena’s deduction that babies could not have margarita’s. “No, definetly not.” She followed Iann giving a small wave to Faye as well.

Otto waved to Faye with a slight nod and smile. It was always a pleasant thing to see his colleagues about. His gaze swept around the room when he saw Iann and cringed, remembering how he'd disappeared so abruptly. The fallout with Teddy about that wasn't the most pleasant and he wondered what Iann was feeling about it. So caught up he was he almost missed Grace's next comment, and still hadn't managed the hand off of the wine before it slipped from his grasp and crashed to the floor.

Fane set the parcel down on the side for the time being and necked his whiskey. If that wasn't an immediate answer to Iann's question there was no telling what was. "You could say that," understatement of the century but he didn't elaborate now was hardly the place much as he was tempted. Instead he got the bartender to order another though just as he did that there was a sudden smash and Fane peered over his shoulder "well, this party is certainly off to a smashin' start isn't it?"

Elena "I do love living in the sea, but sometimes I get so tired and apparently it's not good to fall asleep on a bench in the park"

Otto was mortified. "Oh dear god, no I am so- I didn't- shiesse- What I mean is-" He cringed at the mess, shards of glass and deep red liquid spilt all at his feet. "My apologies, I can, I'll clean this up. No need to worry, um, point me in the direction of the towels and dust pin and I will, uh, sort the mess."

Grace shot Iann a warning glare at his question, able to pick up his voice from across the room. "We're--" She was saved from explaining, but not quite by the bell. Otto, also caught up in the awkwardness of either this situation or one of his own, sent his wine shattering on the ground. Grace took a step back, only just managing to keep herself from cursing under her breath. "No harm done," she muttered, waving over one of the housekeepers to clean it up. "Perhaps we should take this back outside onto the veranda."

Iann heard the crash (who wouldn't? The ceiling was vaulted, the acoustics were great) and looked up to see - "What the fuck?" he muttered, then handed Faye her drink and stepped out from behind the bar, squinting at the stooped-shouldered man with Grace and Aynesworth. "Leets?? I thought you were in -" he stopped himself suddenly thank god, glancing at the others before glaring at Otto. "Well at least you're not dead. Again."

Teddy raised an eyebrow at the red wine that was soaking into his trouser legs, the hostess's shoes, the floor around them. "Jolly good party," he remarked. "I always say it's not a proper do unless at least one thing or body part gets broken."

Faye just looked at Fane and shook her head with a little smile. Though she frowned at the smashed wine, looking to see if anyone was going to help the Professor. Iann moved in that direction though after handing Faye her drink, to which she nodded her thanks.

Otto looked up, "Ah yes, of course. The help..." He nodded thin lipped and mortified. The situation only compounded by Iann's glare. "Uh- I'm- Well no, not dead again." He looked apologetically again at Grace and Iann. "The veranda sounds lovely at least."

"How's Addie?" Faye said across Fane to Cassie.

"No, you're just here," Iann snapped, then looked at Aynesworth for a moment, because obviously HE knew Leitner was back, obviously. But Iann didn't know until a fucking party. "I see how it is," he muttered, feeling that same slight swell of jealousy he felt at another party months ago - the bonfire night with Cassie, regarding her and Lilo Lopez. He looked at the mess, not really caring who cleaned it up; Grace Villiers probably had minions for all that. "Welcome back," he said brusquely, and then stepped away from the group and their discussion about curricula, extricating himself away from Otto in particular.

"Not to worry, darling. They're very well paid." Grace led Otto and his... friend? Partner? They hadn't made that exactly clear, out onto the veranda again, away from whatever drama was lurking with Iann. The BBQ was still going, and though Grace had no need to consume food, she quite enjoyed the normalcy of having it around. "You must tell me more about your vampire studies. I hear Faye teaches Defense Against The Dark Arts. I've never known a school with such a fascinating curriculum."

Cassie jumped at the sound of the glass shattering on the floor, but it looked like others had it covered, so she didn’t move from her spot, turning and smiling to Faye when the witch addressed her. “She’s good. Having some quality time with her Papa.” She finally smelled some of the BBQ on the air from the vernanda and asked, “Have you eaten yet?” It was mostly a question if Faye would join her. She didn’t really want to go out alone now that she knew other people at the party.

Teddy interrupted before Otto had a chance to start stammering and mumbling about his fledgling vampires and their nonsensical individual dogmas. "Indeed, I myself lecture in Philosophy. Particularly on Ethics and Morals among Supernaturals. It's an enormous and unfathomably wide topic, utterly brilliant." This of course gave the insinuation that Teddy himself, as the teacher, must be brilliant as well. Teddy had not even acknowledged Iann Cardero, since the man was ridiculous and best let severely alone. He internally congratulated himself on this decision and subsequently assumed that was why Iann stormed off.

"I- uh-" Again Otto’s attention was torn between the lovely anodyne conversation Teddy, Grace and he were meant to be having, and the aggrieved young Iann. "Do forgive me, yes it is wonderfully fascinating Ms. Villiers but I should talk to you about this later. But I really must go get something else, uh, sorted. If I am so rude not to come back today I should like to call upon you in the future?" Otto smiled, posing it as a wonderfully polite question. The most composed he'd been since coming, then he did the unthinkable for him. He left trailing Iann before he could storm off completely out of sight.

Grace thought perhaps it best not to ask any questions about what the situation was between Otto, Iann and Teddy. They could sort that out in their own time, and she had no intention of causing any more damage to her brand new house. She exhaled, taking in the fresh air when they made their way outside. Otto, it seemed, had other plans. "You must do as you see fit. I do hope to talk to you another time," she said with a nod.

"Iann,” Otto said. “Please, Iann do stop I'd like to- I need to talk to you will you please... Just."

"I really need to come and see her. Bring Wyn now that Addie's a bit older. Not that they could really play yet but..." Faye shrugged, shaking her head in the way of mothers talking about their children. "I haven't," she said to the eating part, and as everyone seemed to be moving outside, Faye touched Fane's arm and indicated where she was going if he wanted to accompany them.

Iann went to sulk not unlike a teenager in one of the quiet hallways, which had some very lovely paintings and other things to keep his interest as he fumed. But with his arms folded, glaring at nothing (because even he wasn't sure why he was so angry...he just was), he looked over to see Otto's figure silhouetted in the hallway entrance. "What? What is this?" he demanded aggressively. "You just fuck off and then you're back and - and - " And what? It wasn't like they were close. Iann wouldn't even consider Otto his friend. He was just like...a something. Iann didn't even know what, and right now he was feeling hard-pressed to remember. "Did you have a good time?"

Teddy smiled at Grace. "Professor Leitner tends to be somewhat ... scrambled, even at the best of times." He got a cider for himself, offering one to Grace, and continued, "I'm very fond of him, and it's true he needs more vampire friends, but he requires patience. Reams of it."

Grace accepted Teddy's offering with a grateful nod. "Indeed." It was quite a formal term of address, a curious one, and really there was no way getting around this without just asking, indecent as it may have seemed. "If there's one thing vampirism teaches, it's patience. Is he your partner?"

“Yeah! Anytime really. Addie is playing with toys more and she can lift her upper body up when she’s on her stomach so-“ Cassie chuckled, “She might be a little more interesting to Eowyn now.” She glanced back at Fane before walking out to the veranda with Faye and collecting a plate that she could get food on, “How’s Eowyn been doing?” She asked, “You’ve had a bit of change recently, yeah?"

Otto came upon the skulking Iann at once, and at once he had a sudden surge of irritation. Her was this man who'd put him through so much, needlessly, and here he was worried he'd hurt Iann's feelings. "No I did not have fun as a matter of fact. It was horrible, horrifying, I wish I hadn't gone but then I needed to go and well, when I- when I came back..." Otto sighed and most irritation melted away. "My phone was melted. There was, uh, fire of sorts. Then when I come back I discover Mal Ojo's phone is disconnected, and it's gone. I have no idea where to reach you and, well, I had my hands full of, other things... Concerning things... in the midst of trying to track you down and remembering your blasted phone number. It's that horrible e-phone you got me. I was too reliant on it."

Fane looked down as Faye touched his arm and with a final glance at the scene unfolding inside figured it best to leave it as is. It wasn't his business and frankly he wasn't here to get embroiled in any more commotion than necessary. Still, considering Cassie and Faye were occupied with their conversation he pressed a light kiss to Faye's cheek affectionate before slipping away towards Grace figuring he could speak to her a little whilst she was free. "Seems like old times hm? Never a dull party whenever we went to one... or hosted one for that."

Teddy was delighted by Grace's question and the way she'd delivered it. There were so few people in Soapberry who understood the art of chatting at a party whilst not being dull as a doorknob! "He is, yes," Teddy said, his voice brimming with excitement. "Yes, Otto is my partner." From the way Teddy's heart was going staccato, he realized with a shock that he didn't really talk about their relationship with anybody, finding most other people either too witless, aggravating, or inappropriate to bring Otto up with. Grace, though, seemed the perfect mix of parlour manners and barely knowing each other. "I fell in love with him when I first saw him, in fact, but I'm not the sort who has partners and it took a while to sort out."

Iann listened, trying his hardest to frown as heavily as possible, his face a mass of lines and wrinkles as he glowered at Otto. But the more the vampire talked - and he was surprisingly eloquent, without all that goddamned stuttering and stammering - the more Iann's frown unwound itself. "Your phone melted? What - did it get swallowed by a fire salamander or something? Why was it horrible?" He waved a hand, trying to dismiss something that was ultimately one of the most recent painful moments in his own life. "Mal Ojo's gone. It blew up...or imploded. It crumbled, it's gone. But...yes. E-phones are terrible for that, aren't they. Why carry a little black book around when all your contacts are e-recorded in your e-contacts list?"

Grace couldn't help but notice the quickening of Teddy's heart as he spoke about Otto. An enviable feeling, and not just because her own heart could no longer beat. It had been decades since she had felt anything resembling love, except for Roisin, and that wasn't romantic love. "I can't claim to have such a thing. I'm a bit of a free spirit, I suppose, but it must be nice. Have you known each other a long time?"

"She's getting so big already," Faye said wistfully, thinking of when Wyn was that age. She gave Fane a smile that said they would meet up in a bit and moved off with Cassie, collecting her own plate and putting bits of food on it. She had to admit, Grace had outdone herself. "She's good. She um... stopped talking awhile back. Last time I heard her say anything was when we went shopping right before you had Addie."

"My great-grandson." Otto sighed and ran his tongue over his lips. "Which is sadly the answer to both those questions. He is the reason it's so horrible, and melted my phone. He says it wasn't purposeful but I, well, I certainly have my doubts about that." As he spoke his hand worked through his hair, growing more concerned as Iann talked. "It's gone? My god. Iann are you alright? Is everything- well of course everything not alright but- Well, are you alright? that's important."

"Oh, believe me, I had no intention of being anything other than a free spirit. I certainly didn't expect to be entranced by a skeletal vampire dressed in leftover haunted house costume." Teddy sipped his drink thoughtfully. "We've only known each other a few years, five or so, I'd imagine. It gets hard to keep time when you've lived as long as we have, eh?" He tucked some hair back into place when the breeze lifted it, saying, "Which reminds me -- I can't quite place the era of your sense of style, my dear, and it's a dreadful blow to my ego. Tell me, what era is your decor based in?"

"Don't talk to me about me," Iann sniped, because for Iann, his news was old news - and to recount it here, standing in a hallway awkwardly with Otto Leitner so long after it happened, just seemed tedious and redundant. Especially in light of this whole 'great-grandson' thing. "Is this..." Iann tried to do the math, but generational things were difficult to grasp when he was all emotionally compromised (stupid emotions). "Anna's child? How old is he? Why the fuck did he burn your e-phone?" Because of course Iann couldn't stand to talk about his own travails in this environment, but he fully expected Otto to answer all of his intensely personal questions.

Cassie nodded as Faye mused about Addie growing quickly. It was exciting right now, but she imagined she would miss the infant days soon enough. But at the news of Eowyn she frowned, “What, really?” She chewed her lip, moving forward in a small line that had formed, “Do you have any idea why? I mean, is it still cause of…Chris?” She felt bad about bringing it up but it was the only thing she could think of. “You’re with Fane now though, so that has to be going well?” She scratched her chin, “Either way, I’m sorry to hear it.” It was just so unlike the toddler she remembered, “Maybe some time with Addie will help."

Grace already liked this town, and this conversation was proof the house warming party had been a good idea. She'd finally met some decent men, and they were in a relationship with each other. It was ironic, but amusing. They'd make good friends, she hoped. They seemed academic and thoughtful, and not without their own interesting stories. "I suppose you can't control love," she mused, watching the smoke from the BBQ weave tendrils in the air. "How sweet of you to ask. I was turned in the Victorian era. I try to keep the aesthetics, but a bit of 1920s doesn't hurt either."

"Yeah," Faye said quietly, a small frown on her face. "And that's really all I can think of. His leaving. I mean... it's been months now. Almost a year. And she had started talking less and less right after, just a word here and there, like that day we went out. But now..." Faye shook her head. "Nothin'. Though... Fane is teaching her sign language. And how to communicate with pictures. Other wise she's still the same though." Faye sighed, though a smile touched her face as Cassie mentioned Fane. "Yeah. It is. Really well. We um... we went to New Orleans for a week just a few days back. Spur of the moment kinda thing. It was..." Faye flushed a little bit before moving back to the topic of Addie. "I hope so yeah."

Teddy bounced on his toes. "I knew it! Or rather, I'd hoped but didn't want to disappoint myself." He tipped two fingers to his forehead as a gentleman would touch his hat to a lady, and said, "It was 1850 when I became the embodied nymph of the River Thames, well within Her Majesty's reign. You wouldn't believe how rare it is to find somebody else from that era! This is tremendous." Grace was growing more and more astonishing by the second, it seemed; Teddy could probably use some more friends himself, and this seemed very promising.

Otto was taken aback by Iann's abrupt-ness. Of course he wanted to hear about him, who was he to tell Otto what to talk about. Otto did well enough to swallow his pride. "I'm just concerned and- well-" He sighed again, well acquainted with Iann's style of third degree questioning. "He's Anna's little brother, not uh, my Anna, the Anna that was named after her great grandmother. Or- ugh- I know it all gets very confusing but I do often call them grandchildren to not, well, draw attention. He's too old to be acting the way he is I can say that certainly and he was able to burn it because- because-" Otto nearly stopped himself and closed his eyes. "Because he's an atronach. They all are, Anna, my ex-fiance Anna was one and lied to me for years about it..." He raised his eyes at Iann in an implicit 'are you happy now' gesture.

Grace beamed at Teddy's enthusiasm. "Well, I knew you were a London boy thanks to the accent, but the embodied spirit of the River Thames?" Grace turned toward the man, extending a hand to touch his shoulder. "I think I'm going to like having you here, darling. It's like..." She chuckled, shaking her head at her own sentimentality. "It's like having a little piece of home." She touched her glass to his. "To new friends."

Concerned? That mystified Iann, because he knew Otto wouldn't just say something like that and not mean it. But he wasn't going to try and address that right now. Instead, he tried to wrap his head around what Otto was saying, decipher the words spilled out in that particular and slightly infuriating 19th century Austrian way. "One day you're going to have to draw me a tree," Iann finally said, because it was really the only way he was able to understand the Germaine family lineage. These people and their immense families, Jesus. (As if it was such a crime to have families). "So this is all just some brat throwing a fit and burning your phone. Family drama, great," Iann said sarcastically, but then he sighed. "I guess I have no reason to be pissed off." He paused, aching to say 'but Aynesworth knew you were back', but he didn't. Instead he asked, "When'd you get back to Soapberry then?"

"To new friends, from old places." Clinking lightly, Teddy drank, finding the touch to his shoulder quite pleasant. He'd been rather sentimental all evening, so Grace's comment seemed to fit right into place with the mood of the conversation. "It could be so dreadful back then, really, but as the years have gone by I've realized that all eras are dreadful and glorious in their own ways. Tell me, Grace--" first names seemed the right thing, at this point, "--when did you come here, to Soapberry? Were you longing to see the New World?"

“Sign language, oh that’s great!” Cassie smiled, “I wanted to teach Addie when she gets a little bit older. It’s better than having to consistently decode screeches and cries.” She shrugged and then offered a reassuring smiile, “I’m sure she’ll come back around. It’s just a little blip.” Her brows rose at the mention of a vacation, “Wow New Orleans. I’m jealous. I’m really happy for you though. You two seem really content together.” And Cassie knew Faye deserved it, after so much. “We’ll have to make it happen.” Cassie nodded, making a mental note to keep her calendar open.

“Yes, dreadful family things I've been roped into. Apparently he'd gotten himself in a bit of trouble so I was dispatched to set him straight." Otto sighed again, not used to having so many people enter his life all at once. "I got back a few days ago, Teddy was the first person I visited and well. I arrived in such a state, and that business of uh, not finding you. Well-" He hadn't had to care about more that one other person's feelings for so long. It made him uncomfortable. "A night out seemed, acceptable. I didn't want to turn down an invitation..."

He was correct, of course. All eras had their beauty and their cruelty. At least Otto and Teddy could live openly in this one. "Very wise," Grace agreed with a nod. "I've only been here a few weeks. I came to visit my friend Roisin." There was that name again. She hoped Teddy wasn't somehow involved with whatever had made Otto blanche at her name. "Then I ran into Fane. A piece of my past that I... wasn't expecting. Curiosity made me stay, but I've been living between the UK and the US for some decades now."

"Only a few weeks! And yet you contrived to have your home so well-appointed in that time, impressive." Teddy nodded in satisfaction. That sort of precise, exacting knowledge of what one wanted and what one preferred was already commendable; added to efficiency, it was basically like manna to the nymph. He himself never moved into any sort of rooms or flat or other living arrangement without having it furnished and arranged to his specifications beforehand. "I'm afraid I haven't met Roisin. Does she work in the town?" Teddy was curious about what this elegant vampire could have shared in the past with Fane (who was harmless but, in Teddy's toffee-nosed opinion, something of a buffoon), but he would bide his time on asking further questions regarding that time in Grace's life.

So wait. Iann (still allowing himself to think selfishly) rolled Otto's last words over in his mind. The vampire had come home to seek out Aynesworth (understandable) and...him? Well shit; now Iann felt a little bad. Iann was pretty sure that if he returned to Soapberry after a long trip, that Otto wouldn't be first on his list to find. Okay so...okay. Iann pushed off the wall, sauntering over towards Otto. "Yeah, yeah yeah, okay. You needed to relax, I get it. Grace Villiers is really...ah. Well she's an exceptional person," Iann settled on saying. She wasn't exactly 'nice' or 'lovely' or any of those banal complimentary words, not in Iann's opinion anyway. He hooked and arm into Otto's and led him back out to where the bbq was. "I'll come over tomorrow or something and you can tell me everything, hm? I want to know what happened to you and Anna and this - this great-grandson and...atronachs! Jesus..." He looked over at Teddy and Grace, who were still chatting. "I'm staying with Dani Savin now, in their loft."

Bartender waggles eyebrows at Elena. "Hey gorgeous, want me to freshen your drink up? You look...thirsty." He jiggles his man-breasts to impress her.

Grace gave a small smirk, rolling the ice around in her glass absent-mindedly. "Well, I suppose I am a woman who knows what she wants." And the wealth to be able to afford it. It was a luxury she was accustomed to. It was to her relief that Teddy wasn't familiar with Roisin. It let her paint her own picture. She smiled with affection as she spoke of her, not unlike Teddy had as he spoke of Otto. "She is my dearest friend. We met in the 1960s and sadly her sense of style hasn't much progressed since then," she chuckled. "She works at the Museum. I suppose I have a way of attracting academic sorts."

"Dani?" Otto’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline, then he collected himself. "Ah yes- they're uh- well a good professor by all rights. An excellent roommate I hope?" His eyebrow raised again, more controlled as he posed the question. "As for a visit, I should like that. I do worry you though. The curmudgeon will be staying for a time."

"Beyond excellent. I'm hard-pressed to find out what Dani Savin isn't good at - but then maybe that's just part and parcel of Savinism," Iann mused, but then he came to a full stop, tugging Otto closer. "Wait what? What?? Your great - that great grandson is here? In Soapberry? With you???"

Elena had been practically licking at the edges of her glass, trying to get every last bit of salt off it when the bartender asked if she'd like another. His man-breast jiggling went completely unnoticed to her though, "I would love another," she set her glass down and smiled lazily at him.

"You have the sexiest mouth, I just want to suck it off your face," The Bartender said lasciviously, because he really really badly wanted her to get the message as he begane mixing her a new drink and showing off his guns.

Ephram was trying, these days, to make himself go to situations that were on the formal side. Not that this was technically formal, it said so on the invite, but in Ephram's mind anything held in a 'manor' or 'estate' or the like meant it was more swank than he was used to. Thankfully, there was a bar in a quietish corner with a pretty girl propping it up, so he made his way over and straddled the seat next to her. "Hey," Ephram said, reaching out a fingertip to draw lightly down her nose. "You doin' okay in there? You keepin' hydrated?" Touching her had let him know she was a mermaid, which meant that she could be in serious trouble with the amount of booze it seemed like she'd been socking away. Then the bartender slid up, doing some kind of boob-dance meant to entice the mermaid girl and Ephram stared at him flatly. "Look, buddy," he said, "unless you wanna get slapped with sousing a girl who ain't used to liquor, buzz the fuck off."

"Yes..." Otto answered tentatively, and with a little guilt. He had left the child, that was too old to be thought of a child, alone with a charm of deep sleep. "Well, not with me and..." Otto frowned, his sharp vampire ears picking up on some truly offensive nonsense. "Dear god," he turned to look out at the opening to the hallway. "I hope Ms. Villiers isn't being overcharged for that buffoon to insult her guests."

"Stop being distracted with your exceptional vampire hearing!" Iann shook Otto by his bony shoulders. "Not with you and what??"

Elena was taken aback when the man who suddenly sat beside her touched her nose. It was such a strange interaction that she had never experienced before on her time above the surface, and for a moment she just stared at him, then she touched her own nose. Maybe there had been something there and he had wiped it off, or maybe it was a new way of greeting people. There were so many ways of greeting people on the surface it seemed, so after the man told off the bartender, who had just slid her another drink, she did the same to him. Sliding her finger down his nose and saying, "Hi." She picked up her margarita and sipped it.

Teddy picked up easily on the wave of fondness in Grace's voice and smiled. "How lucky for me that you do, my dear," he murmured. "I am very much looking forward to seeing you again in the future, but for now, I shall stop being so greedy and let you attend your other guests."

Otto gritted his teeth as the molasses thick accent replied back. Emphram, the snobbish vampire sniffed to himself. He thought this was supposed to be a classy event. "Wha-" Otto turned back to Iann. "Oh no, so sorry. It's just. He's home now, I haven't left him in the car with the windows cracked or something like that."

Bartender was no match for the town Sheriff and he backed off immediately, saying. "Hey no harm no foul, no goose, no fowl."

Iann would slap Otto to get his attention back, because the vampire currently seemed utterly distracted, but Iann just let him go. "Well whatever, I'll still come over tomorrow and I can meet him and everything, it'll be great."

Ephram blinked instinctively at the path of Elena's finger, but didn't stop her. Christ but she was lovely, even clearly six sheets to the wind. He ignored the weirdo bartender and said to the merm, "I'm Ephram. You been here long? You had a lot of those?" He tapped the rim of her margarita glass, idly licking off the crumbs of sugar (sugar? really?) that the bartender had fixed it with. It seemed the bartender had duly fucked off as ordered, so Ephram leaned his tall self over the bar to squirt a glass of fizzy water for Elena, swapping it for her second margarita. "Try that," he encouraged. "It'll tickle that cute lil nose of yours."

"You'll love him I'm sure. He's unflinchingly rude and holds no affection for social mores or good manners." Otto felt as if he very much needed a drink after all this talk. Of course he had none, save for the ounce of wine drying on his pant leg. He wet his lips and sighed. "Or you'll hate him utterly."

"I'm Elena," she greeted, "I've been here since the start," she wasn't sure when that was to be honest, but she'd been there a while, "This is my third," or maybe it was her fourth. She hadn't been keeping track, and didn't know she was supposed to. "Oh," she took the fizzy water from him when he swapped it for her drink and took a small sip. "It tickles!" She exclaimed with a giggle, but the taste was awful compared to the margarita she had been drinking before. "Who are you, Ephram?" She asked, looking at him over the rim of her glass she took another drink.

Grace smiled, giving Teddy an affectionate smile. "It was lovely to meet you, dear. I hope this isn't the last time we talk." And yes, she really should get around to speaking to her other guests, although part of her had to admit that what she wanted most of all was to see where Alia had got to. All in good time, she told herself, returning to the party.

#chatzy #with: group #house warming #sbsevent

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wherespacepooh · 8 years

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Why Yuzuru Hanyu failed to fit in the "emotional grammar" of Jounetsu Tairiku (現代ビジネス）

This was an article written in response to Yuzu's Jounetsu Tairiku documentary that aired right after Worlds last year. To clarify, it doesn’t focus on whether or not Yuzuru shows his “real side” in media or not. Rather, the author, a journalist by trade who specializes in media analysis, was interested in the reason why the program wasn’t as impactful in its delivery as usual, despite Yuzuru’s clear depth of thought, which he originally thought would be a winning combination.

If you haven't yet, you can watch it subbed here thanks to nonchan1023. Although that was almost a year ago, it seems timely since we're just about to roll into Worlds and recently another documentary of his came out.

I thought it was an interesting take on Yuzuru Hanyu vs. documentaries since I have always found Yuzu to be extraordinarily consistent (and true) in tone and message whenever he comes out from ninja mode. The author had written another piece in 2015 discussing Yuzu's mediagenicity alongside other athletes. Also a fun read which I can get to after Worlds if there's any interest.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why Yuzuru Hanyu failed to fit in the "emotional grammar" of Jounetsu Tairiku (Hiroyuki Morita, journalist) 2016.04.14 Gendai Business Original source: http://gendai.ismedia.jp/articles/-/48414 Eng-sub (thanks to nonchan1023) of Yuzuru's Jounetsu Tairiku program: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x465qy3 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The ever-popular documentary series Jounetsu Tairiku shall feature figure skater, Yuzuru Hanyu, for its 900th broadcast anniversary──"

The moment I learned about this news, I went to set my TV recorder. I wasn’t an avid fan of the series itself, but since they picked Hanyu, I couldn’t afford not to check it out. <Yuzuru Hanyu x Jounetsu Tairiku> seemed a perfect combination. However, after watching the program, I thought something was off. “Something is different from the usual Jounetsu Tairiku…” The thought came up just as the credits began to roll. “Wha─ that’s the end?” And the sense that something was out of place remained. What happened in this episode? A stirring impression and a nagging sense of incongruity from Jounetsu Tairiku I guess Jounetsu Tairiku needs no further introduction. A documentary series that brings out the raw, untold sides of its notable subjects by closely following their day-to-day. 900 episodes, including the current one, have been broadcast since the start of its run in 1998; you can say it is a “program of national significance". Surely, there is also no need to explain why such a program chose to feature Yuzuru Hanyu as its protagonist for its 900th broadcast anniversary. Hanyu is unquestionably a "national hero". In the program, audiences at an ice show headlined by Hanyu in Osaka were asked to explain his charm. That Hanyu was popular on a national level was clear from their answers. "Hanyu-kun, so cute" “And very honest" “His interview responses are amazing" “Doesn’t seem to be human anymore" “He’s younger than me, but he’s so dependable, as if he carries Japan in his skates" From the interviews, we can see that Hanyu has gained broad support across generations and sex. Yuzuru Hanyu × Jounetsu Tairiku - a superb combination with matching national levels of popularity. Even so, why did the program leave such a huge sense of incongruity? To confirm, I reviewed it once more. (“I feel alone, really.”) The selling point of Jounetsu Tairiku has always been “total, close coverage". This time as well, the program seemed to have this properly covered. The program’s cameras, as is tradition, followed Hanyu into places barred away from media. An ice show waiting room in Osaka, at a private car ride, in his hotel room in Boston where the World Championships were held… (Even though the program claimed to have obtained footage from an “unprecedented 3-month-long coverage”, they were in fact only allowed coverage twice, once during the ice show in Osaka in January and again beginning in late March from his training in Toronto to the World Championships in Boston). (Oh ninja zuzu…) From a cinematographer’s perspective, they did manage to capture rarely seen, “bare-faced” moments of Hanyu. A Hanyu who yelled “kusso—! (damn it)” in frustration during a rough practice. A Hanyu taking off his jacket at the ice show so he could lend it to his junior, who was only wearing a T-shirt. A Hanyu who messed around with Nobunari Oda in the waiting room and threw his head back, roaring with laughter. And of course, there were plenty of wonderful comments from Hanyu. In my previous article, I analyzed how Hanyu was a "mediagenic" athlete. "Mediagenic" means “presenting an attractive image in the media” in English, and Hanyu's ability to handle the media exceeds that of all athletes up till this point. What someone of his caliber says on Jounetsu Tairiku couldn’t possibly fail to fascinate. For example, in the following scenario: "Well, I do feel lonely, truthfully. Since the surrounding environment really affects my mental and physical state, without blocking it off, I wouldn’t be able to deliver the kind of performance I have in mind. So in some sense, you could say that I’d rather be left alone." - Are you a strong person? “I am weak, very very weak. It’s because I am weak, that I can’t perform to my max without blocking off (my surroundings). If I were strong, I would be myself regardless of what was being said around me, and what environment I was in. I guess the reason why I cannot is probably because I am weak." - How do you overcome painful or tough times? "Ah, I don't aim to overcome them anymore. Painful things are painful, I just admit it. If I no longer want to do something because it's painful, I can just quit. I think it’s good that way." Did they manage to portray a “raw, unexpected side” of him? The words of Hanyu touched and left a deep impression in the hearts of fans who saw the program. You'll understand this much if you search for "Hanyu Jounetsu Tairiku" on Twitter. "I thought Hanyu-san's comments and way of life on Jounetsu Tairiku were really cool (admirable). And, I am beyond touched to see that even in such tough situations (referring to Boston), he still responded to media with a firm smile on his face." “I saw Jounetsu Tairiku, and although there were many unexpected scenes, it was really nice. Hanyu marching ahead and objectively observing himself—even as he was calling himself weak—the sight of that filled my eyes with tears." When I revisit the program and start to write down notes like this, I can sense that Hanyu had said truly amazing things. But it was also the case that, when I saw the program for the first time, nothing reverberated. While I was wondering why, I came to read this tweet: "The content in Jounetsu Tairiku felt surprisingly bland, perhaps because Hanyu-san himself was too deep/profound. On many different levels." The tweet gave me a hint, and I finally realized why things felt out of place with this particular episode. Probably, I felt that the Hanyu captured in film, despite days of close coverage, was no different from the Hanyu I’ve always seen in the media. The production team followed Hanyu quite closely, and Hanyu may have been showing his real side. But since he was so mediagenic, I didn’t feel like I was shown Hanyu's “unexpected real side” through these “close coverages”. His answer to the question, “how do you overcome hard times,” quoted earlier in the article, is a good example. To say something like "I don’t aim to overcome these feelings" is quite an intelligent, clear-headed response that shows great thinking and eloquence. But it didn't reverberate in my mind, because Hanyu simply rattled off his answer without missing a beat. So, at least for me, it didn’t quite stick. Had his reaction been to pause and let his gaze wander while he was lost in thought, and only then, with some deliberation, “…I guess I no longer fight to overcome those feelings,” my impression would probably have been different. However, Hanyu doesn’t do that. He doesn’t need to do such a thing because he’s too capable at responding to media. Lines that would have taken a normal person some dawdling and deliberation to get out, Hanyu rattles off smoothly in a calm, composed manner. As it were, a lot of what he talks about in Jounetsu Tairiku can be found in the so-called “Hanyu Vocabulary”. Such as positioning himself as a “weakling”, that’s a big theme to Hanyu. In the past, he has stated that “to be weak, is to have the potential of becoming stronger. Being able to say ‘I am weak’ means there’s a sense of wanting to become stronger. If I were to think ‘I am strong,' that means I’ve reached the end." In what felt like an instant, the 24-minute program came to an end, while I was still savoring what he said. What remained was a slightly complicated feeling of disappointment. Did mediagenic Yuzuru Hanyu dismantle the formula of Jounetsu Tairiku? The malfunctioning of an "emotional grammar" There is a kind of “emotional grammar" in documentaries. For example, documentaries dealing with athletes often follow the pattern of "glory → frustration → effort → restitution". It can be said that this episode of Jounetsu Tairiku adhered to the same flow. After winning the gold medal at the Olympic Games, Hanyu rode on the wave of momentum to rake in world record scores one after another. However, at the recent World Championships, after an almost insurmountable lead in the short program, he made repeated mistakes at the free skates, resulting in an unexpected second place finish. Glory → frustration, check. In addition, Hanyu acknowledged that he had been suffering from intense pain on his left leg in the program. It was a fact that had yet to be revealed to the media at the time of recording. So the narration went, "We heard about this in secret, that he is feeling intense pain in his left foot." However, after finishing second in the World Championships, the final scene where he was interviewed at his hotel room in Boston begins with the following narration, "Hanyu's sight is already set on the next season.” “Not to say the result was this or that, I want to raise my ideals, the things I want to do, and my skating even more,” said Hanyu. The narrator concludes the program with the following, “A 21 years old continuing to evolve. Before his eyes, uncharted territories stretch out into the afar.” A sense of effort → restitution. However, isn’t Jounetsu Tairiku’s most distinguishable “emotional grammar” and also its selling point, the full-coverage and intimate take on its subjects? The concept of the series as described on the official website of Mainichi Broadcasting, which produces the show, reads, "Jounetsu Tairiku interviews and takes an intimate look into the lives of successful people active in each field. It is a documentary series for introducing these peoples to everyone.” Quite easy to understand. (The usual Hanyu) Unfortunately, this attempt of “emotional grammar” did not work on its subject this time. After all, they were up against Yuzuru Hanyu. Regardless of how close Jounetsu Tairiku got, the Hanyu who spoke in front of their cameras remained the usual Hanyu you’d see on television. The “behind the scenes” and “subject’s unexpected, raw side” that we’d come to expect from Jounetsu Tairiku… such impressions wore extremely thin in Hanyu’s (and only Hanyu’s) episode. Why? Ultimately, because he scores too high in mediagenicity. Yuzuru Hanyu has long lived “within media". Even with Jounetsu Tairiku’s 360 coverage, we simply got to see him the way he always has been in front of the TV cameras. Perhaps, some of their staff might have noticed—even though we have been following that Hanyu around, why did it feel somewhat different than usual…? Even so, it wasn't really the producer’s fault. Since their target was Yuzuru Hanyu. Mediagenic athlete, Yuzuru Hanyu, has broken down the “emotional grammar” in this nationally popular documentary program—I was left with this impression after 24 minutes.

#yuzuru hanyu #hanyu yuzuru #2016 #articles #gendai business

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skeletonannie · 8 years

Text

interlude: the law of falling bodies .

i stg this motherfucknugget took nine years all because i am dreading writing act iii. sry.

(act 1) / (act 2)

indie au interlude: ya gotta start somewhere.

‘you could drown in those eyes, i said, / so it’s summer, so it’s suicide, / so we’re helpless in sleep and struggling at the bottom of the pool.’ - richard siken, ‘little beast.’

TIFF is super stressful. Like, super stressful. Lola’s film is premiering on a Thursday, and you had to get all your homework from your teachers at the beginning of the week because so far, since Mattie told you about the film festival qualifying, you have been shuttling back and forth between interviews and cast meetings and dress fittings. And truly? You just wanna nap with your girlfriend, but Elle is even worse than Mattie.

‘baby, we haven’t even discussed your make-up. They say you’re magnetic we will make you magnetic.’ Elle’s got that manic look in her eye that precedes a Big Idea so you try to steer her off course very fast.

‘elle, please don’t stick magnets anywhere on me, okay?’

she looks offended. ‘why in the hell would I stick magnets on you.’

‘I—you just—I mean—Elle, you are such a creative mind, I’m just making—making sure you’re also, like, not…not getting…not getting weird.’

‘By putting magnets on your face.’ She flips her hair and spins away from you with a huff. ‘As if I would put magnets on your face! For one, I’m not about to dick up my contouring by applying aggressive adhesive to your dumb cheeks. Secondly, why are you like this.’

‘I’m so tired.’

She softens at that, turning away from the vanity to give you a small smile. ‘I bet; you’ve been so busy I almost forget what you look like.’ Her arms wrap you up in a big hug and she presses her nose under your ear, and you feel your whole body relax immediately.

‘I’ll send you a selfie a day.’

‘Yeah? On your Nokia?’

‘Shut up; if it isn’t broken I’m not about to spend a bunch of money on that weird blueberry thing you have.’

Elle laughs and you feel it against your cheek. ‘Whatever, bitch. Just—just think about what you want for make-up, okay? And I will work with that.’

You nod into her chest, then, ‘can we nap now? I’m sleeps.’

Elle hefts you up into her arms like a baby and dumps you on her bed.

mattie ends up dressing you in this soft black sleeveless dress that touches the floor and makes you look kind of like a ghost of someone that died like 300 years ago. Elle says its because you’re so pale, but she also said the ‘contrast is striking and will surely drop some jaws you slut,’ so. Elle does your make-up—and Lola’s, and Danny’s, and Kirsch’s—and she makes you look much older and much sharper. Your dad says you look like a regal monarch on a coin, all sharp lines and soft edges; Mattie smacks the back of his head and says ‘I thought we agreed you would stick to the list of appropriate compliments, dad,’ but you appreciate the sentiment.

You’d been prepped for the red carpet by Mattie and Lola, but you still weren’t prepared for how the flashing bright lights and loud shouts would shuttle you back to Kosovo. Suddenly you’re eight again, and your papa is rubbing your back as bangs echo through your open window. You’re frozen on the beginning of the carpet in front of a stupid background promoting the cbc with sweaty palms and your chest really hurts. You miss your papa.

You hear Mattie whisper-shouting at you, ‘come on kitten, you gotta work this carpet and you certainly are not right now,’ but then Elle’s hand is at the small of your back and she is humming ‘first day of my life’ into your ear very quietly. You start walking.

you hate red carpets. And you hate watching yourself on screen. And you hate forced social interaction. This whole TIFF thing has been an exercise in tolerance and you cannot wait to go home, but apparently you have to sit through awards now. When Lola explained this event, she did not explain how tedious it would be.

The film wins Short Cuts Award for Best Canadian Film. You win Best New Actress in a Short Film.

You cannot wait to go home.

going back to school is such a relief, because—while people are pretty jazzed about going to school with an award-winning actress—everything is totally normal. You go back to Coraline’s classes, and you are still struggling with whatever the hell you’re learning in math, and Elle is still so lovely. Her hormone therapy is going swimmingly, and she has a date for her top surgery—July 2010, right after graduation. She still has another year and a half, but she says it’s good for her.

‘I know I want this, you know?’ she says quietly as you’re sitting on your floor studying for finals in late November. ‘But like, having to wait for another year is probably good, because it gives me a better point of view to be thinking about, like, you know…full surgery, you know?’

You don’t know, because your body fits you, but you kiss her quietly anyway. ‘I’m so happy for you,’ you whisper against her lips.

She kisses you back, before, ‘and like, I don’t think I want the full surgery.’ You must look confused, because she smiles a little. ‘I mean…I like my dick. Truly, I love her. She’s my bro. And I know you like her, so…’

You smack her arm and she laughs, wrapping her arms around your tummy. ‘I just want you to be happy,’ you say into the gentle quiet. She nods, and suddenly you feel wetness on your neck. ‘Baby?’

‘I’m just so happy to know you,’ and she kisses your ear. ‘You’re so little and cute and kind. You’re a tiny elf with a very warm heart.’

You turn in her lap, ‘stop calling me an elf.’

‘No. I can’t.’

‘Ani ohevet otach, but you’re a bitch.’

‘Hani ochvey orlach too, love.’

You laugh so hard you snort, and Elle joins you, until you’re laughing into her mouth as she guides your hips into hers.

‘You’re right,’ you whisper into her collarbone, lying on your carpet and nursing some serious rug burn.

‘About what?’ she is still out of breath and you laugh before answering.

‘I do like her. A lot.’

She looks at you with that stupid smirk, the one that makes you breathless, and says ‘well, you do agree with her a lot, so.’

‘Fuck off,’ but she’s already laughing too hard at her own joke to hear you.

you ring in 2009 with a small party at your house. Elle, Danny, Kirsch, Mattie, Lola, and LaFontaine are all there, in your living room drinking your dad’s nice wine and playing Cards Against Humanity while Karla, Santi, Kirsch’s mom, and your dad all go to an event at the ROM. It’s nice, and quiet, and you are once again struck by the gentle softness of a love you forged with a family you got to make. Elle kisses you at midnight, and you laugh into her mouth when you see Kirsch give Danny a shy kiss on the cheek and Danny huffs and drags his mouth to hers.

‘Finally!’ you hear Mattie trill, before twirling through the room to kiss everyone succinctly on the mouth. Lola looks distinctly flustered, and LaFontaine gives Mattie a sharp glare as they chug the rest of their wine. Mattie gets to you and blows a raspberry on your cheek, before dragging you into a wonderfully choreographed twist.

A throat clearing gets your attention, and you all look toward Lola, still flushed after Mattie’s kiss, holding her glass up in front of the fire place. ‘If you all wouldn’t mind, I would like to say a few words,’ she says in that soft commanding voice of hers. Mattie raises her glass and chants ‘hear hear!’ so Lola begins.

‘This time last year, I was a lost, lonely home-schooled freak trying to make it work in university. And I never thought I would manage to find a—a family, like this, that supports me and loves me for me, instead of this vision they have of me. So, to all of you: thank you, for loving me, for supporting me, and for allowing me to create, among such brilliant, gentle souls. Thank you.’ She turns to Mattie, her bright blue eyes quite teary, before, ‘and Matska: thank you. For everything; for your friendship, for your inspired trust in me, for your loud and obnoxious laugh, and for allowing me to grow while still keeping me grounded. Without you, I’m sure I would still be that quiet strange girl in your screenwriting class writing weird Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants fanfiction on Friday nights.’

Mattie has a soft smile on her face, and instead of responding, simply raises her glass and drinks, smiling at Lola the whole time.

february is fucking cold. Kirsch decides that skating in Nathan Phillips Square with you is a tradition now, so he drags you out there in mid-February. When you get there, tripping hard on the curb getting off the streetcar, Kirsch is waiting for you with a knit toque.

‘Here, bro,’ he hands the toque to you, in all its lumpy glory. You take it with a look, and he laughs his big belly laugh. ’It’s for you, bud! You’re always so cold, so I got my grandma to help me knit you a toque!’

You know it’s a hideous toque, but its such a kind gesture you get a little teary. Kirsch notices but doesn’t say anything, instead dragging you into one of his bear hugs and kissing the top of your head. You stay there for a while, pressing your cheek into the soft wool of his sweater. You listen to his heartbeat.

‘Hvala vam, beefcake,’ you sniffle, so he hugs you harder.

‘No worries, little hottie. It’s just—I know you lost that other toque, and I know you’re a stubborn bitch, so I thought I could make you one instead.’

‘I—yeah. Yeah. Thank you.’

He laughs, says, ‘I know you mean it when you say it in Serbian and English, so again: no worries, my dude.’ He pats your head, then, ‘let’s go skate, bro. I can see Danny tearing it up and I wanna school her with my sweet moves.’ You give him a look and he shrugs, says, ‘I’ve been watching a lot of figure skating—those dudes can skate, man!’

You laugh and follow him onto the ice after allowing Kirsch to lace up your skates for you—‘it’s tradition, man!’—and Elle skates up to you with a huge smile.

‘Nice toque, darling,’ she laughs, tugging on a loose thread.

‘Thanks,’ you say back quietly, blushing, so Elle stops teasing and kisses your cheek.

’Skate with me, bitch.’

February is fucking cold, but it’s not so bad.

you all still attend all of Kirsch’s rugby games, but now with the added bonus of Danny writing cheesy encouraging signs to hold up every time Kirsch touches the ball. And every time he scores a try or makes an exceptional tackle, he turns to the stands and flexes.

in early may, your dad throws a party for Elle. You don’t have to ask why; Elle has been on hormones for a whole year now, and you know better than anyone that is a cause for celebration. He orders a comical amount of pizza, and buys a nice bottle of prosecco—‘so we can pop them bottles, kid!’ dad had said, which you had ignored—and everyone in your little mismatched family comes over dressed to the nines. Mattie had insisted it was going to be a formal occasion, and Elle had been thrilled.

‘I love dressing up. I love it. And,’ she wrapped her arms around your waist, bit your ear, ‘I love seeing you dressed up.’

You were flustered and blushing, because Mattie was still in the room, so you looked at the ground and pushed her chest, muttered ‘shut up,’ and shook your head when Elle kissed your neck hotly and twirled away.

‘So, Matska: what are we thinking here? Long, elegant gown paired with a dashing suit…maybe charcoal grey? A little pop of colour in the tie?’

Mattie clapped her hands together. ‘Fantastic, Elle! And maybe some dark make-up, subtle but still noticeable? A nice winged eyeliner, some deep red lipstick to match that pop?’

You were completely lost and still very turned on, so you huffed and headed downstairs to complain to dad.

It turns out they were talking about you, so on the day of the party you are bombarded by the two of them and forced to sit through an hour of make-up before you are shoved into a suit—which you love but refuse to admit—and then handed a deep red tie and told to ‘go downstairs and get dad to help, kitten,’ being effectively banished from the room while Elle and Mattie get ready. Dad only smiles and guides your hands when you ask him for help, kissing your forehead when you get it right.

You’re sitting on the couch with Kirsch, sipping soda water and laughing at his recounting of the figure skating he had been watching earlier when suddenly your jaw goes slack and soda water dribbles out of your mouth.

‘Dude!’ Kirsch laughs, grabbing his pocket square and dabbing at your chest, before, ‘oh…shit! Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to like, get all up on your tits, yikes!’

You ignore him, instead handing him your drink and standing to watch Elle descend the stairs. She meets your eyes and blushes, looking demure as she reaches the bottom.

‘Hi,’ she whispers, and it takes you a moment to respond.

‘Izgledaš kao san,’ and she laughs and rolls her eyes, says ‘not again with the code,’ kisses your cheek.

You laugh and grab her hand, pulling her down to kiss you properly, entirely forgetting your dad is there, and Elle kisses you back for a moment before pulling away.

‘I cannot ruin your make-up already, babe. Mattie and I worked hard to create this.’ You nod, and she leans down to whisper, ‘I can fuck it up later, I promise. I think my lipstick would look so hot smeared on the inside of your thighs,’ so you smack her chest and go sit next to Kirsch.

‘Elle’s a bitch,’ you tell him, but he has spotted Danny, dressed in a lovely dark blue dress, and he’s talking himself up to go say hi. ‘Kirsch,’ you tap his shoulder. ‘She’s your girlfriend. You don’t have to practise what you’re gonna say anymore.’

He turns to you with wide eyes. ‘I do when she looks like that! She’s so pretty! Oh my god!!’

You laugh, tell him, ‘dude, if you think I can ever keep my cool in front of Elle, ever, you are sorely mistaken. I don’t think we ever get used to how hot our girlfriends are.’

‘I know! Oh my god! Oh my god look at her! She’s such a strong, beautiful young woman!’

You kiss his cheek and stand up. ‘Want me to go first, give you an in?’ He looks at you with wide, thankful eyes. ‘Yes please,’ he says meekly, so you pat his head and walk over to Danny.

Your dad lets Elle pop the prosecco, on the rooftop. It sprays everywhere and Elle laughs, says, ‘thank god I insisted on that setting spray,’ pours everyone a glass. Lola had come by about an hour into the party, dressed in a strange grey and red dress that had made Mattie very soft around the eyes, and had brought another bottle of prosecco. Mattie insisted on popping that one herself.

‘If only this was the first christening this roof had had,’ she says wistfully, and you choke on your prosecco when your dad looks confused and Elle squeezes your ass.

later, when you all are still on the roof, Karla starts crying while trying to make a speech, so Santi has to say it for her. Grabbing the crumpled paper from her hand, Santi clears his throat and promptly starts crying too, so Kirsch takes the speech, squints at the blurry writing, and tosses it off the roof.

‘Imma wing it,’ he tells you all, ‘but I’m pretty sure I know the gist.’ You laugh, and he sends you his goofy smile. ‘I’m not very good with words, but I can try? So. Here goes.’

‘YEEEAH KIRSCH! SLAM DUNK!’ Danny shouts with a fist pump.

Kirsch blushes and shuffles his feet, mutters a ‘thanks, Dan,’ before, ’Elle: you’re my bro. You’ve always been my bro. And I’m so happy for you, that you get to grow and become who you have always known you were, and that you’ve always known you could be.’ He pauses to take a shaky breath. ‘Dude. You are the dopest, most courageous person I know—no offence mom—and you are so strong and brave and lovely, and I know you’re gonna change the world for the better. Just—just like you’ve changed me. So, like—thanks, bro. And congrats on the lady chemicals; you look so hot.’

You can’t stop laughing, but you’re also crying, and Elle gives Kirsch the sloppiest, wettest high five ever because she is crying, too, and your dad is hugging you, and you feel so full.

summer ends way too fast. You and Elle had continued to work with Coraline on plays all summer, and you had made some really cool friends in the theatre scene because of it. You and Danny worked on a play that premiered in the Fringe Theatre Festival, and you got to meet people from all over Canada that loved theatre as much as you did. There was this one girl, Laura or something from Vancouver, that was incredible in this weird play about a girl on a train that made up little stories about all the people she rode with, and each story was acted out, and each time this girl inserted herself into their story in increasingly desperate ways until finally it ends and the girl just like quietly gets off the train. It was hard to follow at times, but you loved it, and so did Lola. She wouldn’t stop talking about it.

Lola and Mattie go back to university in late August, and you and dad take them to the airport again. Mattie hugs you at security before they both walk through, and you and dad stay long enough to see Mattie take Lola’s hand.

Your dad gives you a high five, says, ‘I knew it!’ and takes you for ice cream in Roncesvalle again.

grade twelve is stressful, but also you are so close to being done that it almost doesn’t matter. Elle is getting so, so excited about her top surgery, and you both are applying to schools. You try to coordinate so you can end up together, but Elle is also very interested in some American schools, as well as a school all the way in BC. You’ve been sticking to mostly local: Dalhousie, U of T, Concordia, McGill—but Elle is Thinking Big.

‘I’m going to be starting my life as Elle, truly, after this surgery. I’m going to finally be me. I want to explore; I want to know what’s out there!’ she tells you as you sit in the snow fort you and Kirsch had built a few days earlier.

You nod, but you also do not want to nod, because you love her but you want her close to you all the time. But you know she’s right: her and Kirsch had started this really cool blog that’s, in Elle’s words, a ‘subversion of the toxic masculinity prevalent in our western culture,’ and it has been getting really popular. She dresses Kirsch up in traditionally feminine clothing, does his make-up, and puts him in demure poses. It was featured in the Huffington Post, which Mattie was excited about, and in Vice, which you were excited about.

She’s got so much potential, and you don’t want to stop her from reaching that, but also? You’re gonna miss the fuck out of her.

college applications are dumb.

new years 2010 is much drunker than past new years, because you’re all ‘old enough to make your own decisions, but dumb enough to make the bad ones anyway, and I would rather you make them in a safe environment,’ as dad had said. So you all wake up wildly hungover, and Danny and Kirsch had clearly had sex on your dad’s leather couch, and Lola vomited in the sink in the morning.

You thought you got away scott-free, but Mattie keeps giving you sly looks all morning, so you are worried. You go to the bathroom around one for a shower and are absolutely appalled to see Elle has taken the liberty of leaving a massive hickey on your collarbone, and later, as you’re all eating pho on your living room floor, Danny clears her throat and says, ‘so what were you two talking about last night? Carmilla, you really seemed to agree with whatever Elle was saying.’

Elle chokes on her pho she’s laughing so hard. You just mutter, ‘jebite se svi vi,’ and dump sriracha into Danny’s pho.

once again, you, Danny, Kirsch, and Elle go skating at Nathan Phillips in mid-february. You wear the lumpy toque Kirsch made you, and—since you are leagues better than you were that first time—Kirsch has elected you as his figure skating partner. He says it’s because you ‘weigh less that a full-grown labrador.’

You don’t argue, because 1) he’s right, you’re little, and 2) you love him and you like making him smile, and an added bonus is it makes Elle laugh.

Elle buys you hot chocolate after, and you are suddenly reminded of that first time, when you couldn’t speak for the recognition you saw in her even then, so when she hands you your hot chocolate you kiss her wrist and you say ‘volim vas,’ and she gets soft and she says ‘Ani ohevet otach, Carm.’

you don’t say anything after that.

elle hears back from colleges in early spring. She comes twirling into Coraline’s with a huge smile, keeps batting her eyelashes and acting coy when people ask her what’s got her in such a good mood.

‘Oh, nothing, the world is just so lovely, isn’t it?’ and ‘It’s so nice to be secure in your future.’

You wait till class is over to ask her what’s going on. It’s just you, Elle, and Coraline, and Elle hums before reaching into her shoulder bag and pulling out an envelope with a dramatic flourish.

‘Oh, this?’ she says, fanning herself with the torn envelope. ‘Oh, nothing, just my acceptance letter, bitches!’

You feel your chest clench, because you and Elle applied to quite a few of the same schools, and you had gotten your acceptance to Dalhousie a week ago, but that envelope looks nothing like yours did.

‘To—to where, neshama?’ you ask quietly. Coraline puts her hand on your knee.

Elle smiles at both of you, blinding and so, so happy. ‘Barnard.’

You’re happy for her, you are, but. Barnard is in New York. Coraline’s hand squeezes your knee.

‘Congratulations, Elle!’ she sings, letting go of you to wrap Elle up in a hug. Elle is laughing, twirling and looking so happy, so you stand up shakily and join their hug.

You can deal with the 1,800 kilometres later.

—

#indie au #interlude #carm x elle #i hate my idiots #here comes the DRAAAAMAAAAAAAAAA #yall been WAITIN FOR #also did u spot laura #herher #read me

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