#she's an adult woman mother of four was married for 20 years and managed a kingdom as her husband rotted

[sloppysequinz]

Not the Step-Alcoholic, but the Alcoholic who Stepped Up - Part 1

Notice: This one includes some kinks I don't normally write, so be warned. Also, it's really long and only the first of at least two parts. I'm writing this for ME.

Normally I try to write write gender neutral leads but this one is explicitly a cis woman, just so you know.

cw: fauxcest, alcoholism, piss

You and your dad had never been close. He was always kind of a distant asshole, and when your parents got divorced shortly after you left for college it was more of a relief than anything.

You would never begrudge your beloved mother's choice to leave on a world tour after that. You talked on the phone for a couple of hours before she left. She'd spent 20 years feeling pinned down and trapped, and she was making up for lost time.

You absolutely DID begrudge your father's decision to begin dating immediately after the papers were finalized. In fact, you weren't sure he waited. The girlfriend who started popping up in his facebook posts seemed way too close to him to have only been seeing each other a few weeks. This hunch of yours was backed up when your father married her before your second semester was up.

You didn't hate Angelina, or Lina as she insisted everyone call her. You hated the idea of her. Your father had managed to land a bubbly, busty younger woman, making himself a mid-life crisis stereotype. And she was appallingly young: not quite your age, but 20 years younger than your mother, so only 10 years older than you. And she was always, always drunk.

Not in a way that was extremely obvious, usually. She wasn't a stumbling, drooling, wreck. But you could tell. You could smell the booze every time she threw her arms around you. Whenever you had to spend time with her, she would gradually get louder and more flushed no matter what you were doing--she had a water bottle she liked to carry that you suspected did not contain water. But every so often, she would go overboard in a truly spectacular way. At Lina and your father's wedding, there had been an open bar at the reception. They didn't check IDs, so you had made generous use of it, but you had nothing on Lina.

For one thing, she wasn't sober when the reception started. Her extravagant bridal suite provided champagne, and she'd had a glass in hand the whole four hours she and her bridesmaids (including you) got ready. By the time the ceremony started, she was flushed and giggling, but that was easily passed off as bridal joy. Her water bottle had appeared during the photos. By the time you walked into the reception dinner, you could tell she was only walking straight by leaning against your father, who hardly looked upset to have a sloshed woman in a low cut white dress pressing her tits into his arm.

Then things really started. Celebratory champagne toasts to begin, then wine with dinner, then the dancing started and the bar opened. You managed to fade into the background with a gin and tonic in hand and enjoy getting tipsy by yourself in the corner while the adults lost control, stealing back into the crowd only when you needed a refill. Lina's friends ordered round after round of celebratory shots. Lina, slurring and leaning over the bar so far her tits practically fell out of her dress, had asked the bartender to make her a long island iced tea. She had been so impressed with the result that she ordered three more in quick succession, yelling her order louder each time. After the second one, she was grinding on your father on the dance floor like a slut. She missed the third one and knocked it onto the bar, your father had to grab the fourth one and hand it to her to make sure she had a grip on it. You'd never seen a woman behave like this in public.

Then Lina found you. "SHWEEEETIE!!" she had crooned, spotting you in your corner. She tottered and wove over to you, heels clacking unevenly across the floor. She collapsed into the chair next to you, drink in hand. Her sleeveless, short white reception dress had ridden up so you could see the edges her matching white panties. Her tits were practically jiggling over the neckline, though you thought that might be by design. There was a little bit of drool going from her chin onto her tits. She grabbed your hand clumsily and leaned in to land a wet, sloppy kiss on your cheek. She absolutely reeked of booze. She was grinning like a lunatic.

"Youuuuuu shhouldz. Call me mmom now!!" she giggled, swinging your joined hands around. You managed to stop her from knocking over your glass before dropping her hand.

"I already have a mom." you replied coldly. You wanted to get up and walk away, but you suspected she'd just follow you. You figured if she was this drunk, it would only be a few minutes before she got distracted or passed out. You would just have to suffer through it. You took a sip of your drink and prepared to ignore her. That proved impossible.

"Zheennnn calls me mommyyyyyy!!!" she cried, and threw her legs over your lap, startling you. "Yous dontsh have mommyyy do you?" With her legs sprawled over you, you could see her panties in their entirety. There was a wet spot on the white satin over her crotch. You shivered.

This was what you hated about Lina most of all. She was frighteningly, devastatingly hot. You hated that you must have inherited your taste from your dad. Everything about her made you dizzy with horniness. Her soft, thick, creamy thighs that you could now tell framed an obviously fat and unshaven cunt, dripping wet from being drunk. Her enormous, bouncing, soft tits, too soft to be augmented, just a freak of genetics. The way her ass jiggled when she walked. Her soft eyes, her long hair, her perfectly painted nails--even her drunkenness. The first time you had realized just how drunk she was, and how often, your panties had flooded. Now, with her fuckwasted slurring drunk in your lap and three gin and tonics in your belly, you were sure there was a wet spot on your panties to match hers. You had to focus, you needed out of the situation.

"I'm not a kid, Lina," you replied. You touched her thigh to try and push her legs off you, but she just whined in a way that made you freeze and pull your hand away. She smiled lazily at this.

"Ohhhhh I knowww shweetie." She replied. "You're...a...a womanz for szhure." She ran her hand over your belly and around your waist. Her clumsy touch lit a fire in your cunt. This was really, really bad, but you couldn't think of a way to leave without causing a scene. "Whant schome?" Lina asked you, holding out her drink and waggling it at you. You took the glass from her hand so she wouldn't drop it, then took a polite sip before setting it on the table. It was stronger than you expected and you grimaced, which made her laugh.

"How do you drink that stuff?" You asked. "It's vile."

"I shink itszz DELICIOUS~!" she replied. "But..." she giggled and waved you in closer, as though she wanted to share a secret. You obliged and leaned towards her. "...I fucckinnnn... looooooooves zhe tasts of boooooooze." She was trying and failing to stage whisper, but there was no one around you. She giggled and continued. "Zhe taaaste makesh me.....hornyyyy." she managed to actually whisper that last word before erupting into laughter, her soft thighs shaking against you. You could barely resist running your hands up them. She probably wouldn't remember if you did...but no good risking it.

"Scpeaknig of boooooze..." she reached for her glass, but clearly she was having a hard time. She missed by a mile. "Whooopsh!" she yelled, then laughed. "Schweetieeee when did you put thrreee glasses there?!" she asked, then laughed uproariously.

This was so funny to her that she collapsed backwards onto the next chair giggling furiously. Her barely contained tits popped out of her dress. They were even more beautiful than you had imagined, with tight pink areolas and enormous nipples. She didn't seem to notice they were on display. She slowly, clumsily, laboriously pulled herself back into a seated position using the chair and tables for support, finally and mercifully pulling her thighs out of your lap. She reached for the glass again, and missed again. It didn't seem she found it funny this time.

"Helpsh...helpsh youur mommy, schweetie?" she slurred, looking at you pitifully.

You did the only thing your horny brain would let you. You grabbed the glass and held the drink to her mouth. After a moment of drunkenly thrusting her face at the glass, her numb lips found the straw and closed around it. She drank deeply and quickly, evidently determined to finish the whole drink in one go. Her eyes went crossed as she swallowed and swallowed. As you watched your wasted drunk new 'mommy' chug booze from a straw, lips pursed and glazed eyes crossed at the effort, massive tits out and dangling in front of you, panties on display, determined to get even drunker than she already was, the bottom of your stomach tightened into a knot. It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen, and you hated that.

When the glass was finally empty, she pulled away, stared into space for a moment, then dropped her face onto the table. She grabbed her own tits and began squeezing them almost absentmindedly. "Dhazz fuggin gooooood...." she moaned, tweaking her own nipples. "Fugggg...." she trailed off into silence. Her glazed drunk eyes fluttered shut. Even with her thighs out of your lap, you could still see her panties clearly. Her legs were splayed wide and her dress was now just a ring of white fabric around her waist. As you watched, a stream of piss appeared from out of her already stained white panties, filling up the seat and running down her legs. She groaned as she pissed and squeezed her tits tighter, eyes still shut. You took that as your cue to leave.

On your way out of the reception, you managed to grab a bottle of gin from the bar while the bartender was distracted by Lina's drunk friends. You drank directly from the bottle as you walked. It was a quarter gone by the time you got back to your room, which you blessedly had to yourself. As soon as the door was shut behind you, you turned up the gin bottle and chugged. You didn't bother to get undressed, just popped your tits out of your dress and started squeezing. You knelt on the floor in the entryway and frantically pulled up your skirt to slip a hand into your panties, rubbing your soaking wet cunt and pinching your nipples as the booze hit you in a rush. You paused touching yourself only to desperately chug more booze. When the bottle was 3/4 gone, your brain was melted and you began slurring to yourself.

"Mommy....fugggg....mommy gonna....wanna cum, wanna.....make mommy cum....."

The image of your father's wife, passed out blackout drunk with her tits out in a puddle of her own piss was burned into your mind. It made your pussy burn, it made your stomach tighten, it made you desperate for a drink. And alone in your room, you gave in. You imagined getting her another drink, waking her up to pour it into her mouth, slipping your hands into her piss stained panties and sucking on her tits while she moaned and slurred incomprehensibly, helping her back to your room, staggering into the hotel elevator with her ass and tits out for the world to see, helping her collapse into your bed and plying her with more booze, touching her until she came and pissed the bed, guiding her numb drunk hands to your tits and cunt as she hovered on the edge of consciousness....

You came harder than you ever had in your fucking life. And you hated it.

[missmcspooks]

TWISTED COUPLES: David and Catherine Birnie

David John Birnie, and Catherine Margaret Birnie were an Australian couple who lived in Perth, Western Australia. Together, they sexually assaulted and murdered four women, and attempted to murder a fifth. The media dubbed this case as the “Moorhouse Murders,” as their home resided on Moorhouse Street, in Willagee. I was inspired to write this article due to the movie based on this story, “Hounds of Love” (2016). 

WHO WERE DAVID AND CATHERINE BIRNIE?

David Birnie, born on February 16th, 1951, grew up in a dysfunctional household and was the oldest of 5 siblings. Some of the household troubles he and his siblings endured were allegedly alcoholism, promiscuity, and incest. The family never ate meals together, and the parents never cooked meals for their children. At the young age of 15, Birnie dropped out of school to become an apprentice jockey for Eric Parnham at the Ascot Racecourse. While he worked there, he had physically abused the horses and experimented with exhibition. During one evening, Birnie put a pair of stockings over his head and broke into an elderly woman’s home in an attempt to rape her. He had been in and out of prison for misdemeanors and felonies by the time he was an adolescent. When he was an adult he became a pornography and sex addict, and was also a paraphiliac (the experience of intense sexual arousal to atypical objects, situations, fantasies, behaviors, or individuals. It had also been defined as sexual interest in anything other than a consenting human partner). In his early 20’s he married his first wife, Kerrie, in 1972, and divorced in 1982. Together they had a daughter named Tanya, who never married and never had children, as she didn’t want to “spawn another David Birnie.” She had also changed her surname after his conviction. 

Catherine Birnie, born on May 23rd, 1951, was only two years old when her mother died as she gave birth to her brother, who also died just two days later. Her father was unable to raise her alone, and sent her to live with her paternal grandparents. When she was 10, there was a custody battle, and her father regained full custody of her. She met David when they were only 12 years old, and began a relationship together two years later. However, her father didn’t like him and he begged her to stop seeing him, considering the fact that their involvement together caused her to get into trouble with the police. However, his disapproval of their relationship only ended up strengthening it. Her time in prison throughout her adolescent years offered Catherine a chance to break away from David. Encouraged by a parole officer, Catherine began working for the McLaughlin family as a housekeeper. She married Donald McLaughlin on her 21st birthday. The couple had seven children together, and her first born, who was a son, was killed by a car during infancy. In 1985, she left her husband and all six children to live with David, and even though they were never legally married, she changed her surname to his, Birnie. 

The abductions and murders happened nearly instantly after they moved in together. Within five weeks, they abducted five women, all aged between 15 and 31. All victims were sexually assaulted and murdered, with the exception of their last victim, who managed to escape the day after she was captured. Her escape ended their killing spree. 

THE VICTIMS

Mary Neilson (22): She was a psychology major at the University of Western Australia and worked part time at a deli. She met David when she went to the spare parts yard, where he worked, looking for tires for her car. He offered to sell her really cheap tires and gave her his phone number. When she arrived at his home on October 6th, 1986, she was gagged, chained to the bed, and sexually assaulted while Catherine watched. She was then taken to Gleneagle, in Bedfordale, where she was assaulted again, and then strangled to death with a nylon cord. He then proceeded to stab her thinking that it would speed up the decomposition process, as he “read that in a book somewhere.” He then buried her in a shallow grave. Mary would’ve received her degree in psychology one year after her murder. 

Susannah Candy (15): She was abducted two weeks after the murder of Mary, as she was hitchhiking along Stirling Highway in Claremont. She was a brilliant young girl who was doing an amazing job at school, and lived with her two loving parents and siblings. The couple was driving along for several hours looking for their next victim when they saw her looking for a ride. As soon as she entered the car, she was held there by knifepoint while they tied her hands behind her back. Once they got back to the house, just like Mary, she was gagged, chained to the bed, and sexually assaulted. They also had her write a letter to her family to assure them that she was safe, as her father was a well known surgeon, but they still feared for her life.

After David had finished assaulting Susannah, Catherine got into bed with them, as she knew this type of thing turned him on. Together, they assaulted her one last time, and David proceeded to try and strangle her with a nylon cord, but she became hysterical. They forced sleeping pills down her throat to calm her down, and once she was asleep, he put the cord around her neck and told Catherine to strangle her. He wanted her to prove her undying love for him by murdering her. Catherine went through with the demand and killed her while he watched. When Catherine was later asked why she did it, she told them:

“Because I wanted to see how strong I was within my inner self. I didn’t feel a thing. It was like I expected. I was prepared to follow him to the end of the earth and do anything to see that his desires were satisfied. She was a female. Females hurt and destroy males.” 

They buried her near the grave where Mary was, located in the State Forest.

Noelene Patterson (31): They spotted her standing by her car on the Canning Highway, as she had run out of gas. They offered to give her a ride, and once she was inside the car, she was held at knifepoint, tied up, and told not to move. When they returned to their home, just as the women before her, she was gagged, chained to the bed, and repeatedly assaulted. The original plan was to murder her that same night, but David decided to keep her inside as a prisoner for three days. Catherine began to feel jealous and threatened, as she noticed him showing signs of an emotional attachment to her. That’s when she decided to slam David with an ultimatum: She would have to kill Noelene, or she would kill herself, and went to grab a knife and put it to her throat to show him that she wasn’t kidding. David then forced sleeping pills down her throat and strangled her to death in her sleep. They buried her body in the same forest, but further away from the other victims. It was said that Catherine got a lot of pleasure from throwing sand on Noelene’s face. 

In the image above, Noelene is on the left, and Denise is on the right.

Denise Brown (21): They spotted her waiting for a bus on Stirling Highway, and offered her a ride, which she accepted. Again, she was held at knifepoint, tied up, and brought back to the house where she was gagged, chained to the bed, and assaulted repeatedly. The following day she was taken to the Wanneroo pine plantation. While they were hidden in the forest, David assaulted her again in the car as they waited for the night to come. Once darkness hit, he dragged her out of the car and assaulted her again, and then stabbed her in the neck. They thought that she was dead and began digging a shallow grave and tossed her body inside. However, she was surprisingly still alive and sat up, and David grabbed an ax and struck her with it twice in the head. 

Kate Moir (17) The Final Victim: She was abducted at knifepoint after accepting a ride from them. On the ride back to the home, she asked them if they had planned to rape or kill her. Catherine replied with, “we’ll only rape you if you’re good.” However, she was treated differently than the former victims. She wasn’t immediately gagged and chained to the bed, and Instead, they forced her to dance for them, and slept in the couples bed with them, while being handcuffed to David. After she was abducted, they forced her to call her mother and told her that she was okay, and just had too much to drink and was staying at her friend’s house. Kate was very smart and used her words wisely, as her mother knew that she was not much of a drinker. 

The next day, David went to work and Catherine went to the door to carry out a drug deal, and forgot to chain her up to the bed. Kate knew that it was probably her only chance she’d get to escape, and climbed through a closed window by breaking its lock, and hit her head on the concrete. She tried knocking on several neighbors' doors, but no one answered, so she decided to jump a gate and was attacked by David’s dog. She thankfully was able to escape the dog and ran into a nearby vacuum cleaner store. She told them that she had been abducted and raped and the police were called. For some strange reason, the police were skeptical to believe her story, besides one female officer who believed her due to the amount of detail and information she provided, including their phone number and address. She told the police that the Birnies had given themselves fake names, but she read David’s name on a medicine bottle. She also told them that they watched the movie “Rocky” on VHS, and described a drawing she had concealed in their house as proof that she had been there. They found her drawing, as well as the VHS tape in the VCR. 

David and Catherine were arrested and gave conflicting stories during their interviews. Catherine claimed that she had never seen Kate before, while David said that Kate had come over to their house on her own free will to engage in consensual sex with them. David eventually was convinced to confess and tell them who the other victims were, and where the bodies were located. 

There could be other possible victims that the Birnies were responsible for. Cheryl Renwick vanished in May 1986, and Barbara Western in June 1986.

TRIAL, SENTENCING, AND IMPRISONMENT

When the trial began, David Birnie pleaded guilty to four counts of murder and one count each of abduction and rape. When asked why he had pleaded guilty, he gestured toward the victims' families and said, "It's the least I could do." He was sentenced to four terms of life in prison. After being found sane enough to stand trial, Catherine Birnie was also sentenced to four terms of life in prison. Under law at the time, both were required to serve 20 years before being eligible for parole.

David Birnie was found dead in his cell on October 7th, 2005. He was 54 years old. An inquest found that he had hanged himself from an air vent using a length of cord. Various factors led to his suicide, those being a failure to provide him with his anti-depressants, his computer had been confiscated and he was suspected of sexually assaulting another prisoner. He was described by a former prison officer as a 'model prisoner' who looked after injured animals. Catherine was not allowed to be present at his funeral. 

Catherine Birnie is imprisoned in Bandyup Women’s Prison. Since being incarcerated she has worked as a prison librarian and appeared in a prison production called Nunsense. Her parole application was rejected in 2007, and it’s stated that she will most likely never be free again. In 2017, Catherine Birnie's youngest son, under the alias Peter, called for her execution. He has stated that his relation to Birnie has resulted in him being assaulted on multiple occasions.

[okay-victoria]

Random Personal Rant

For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.

With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldn't qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dad...did not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I don't mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasn't an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.

My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my mom's friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad and...my mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldn't go 😂

So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true "day job" worked day labor in construction. My dad's father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didn't beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didn't own any.

My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldn't afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).

It is hard not to believe in "toxic masculinity" when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide 'help' isn't the worst word in the English language, and you know you've only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the don't-bend-the-knee stick. It wasn't that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed "male pride" in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars I'd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didn't tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadn't been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money they'd taken from me without asking because I'd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldn't have my own bank account].

While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dad's father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldn't get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didn't even accrue over time, just...whenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasn't giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the "big donors" events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my mom's wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.

And look. When I say "these people"...honestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she did...go to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after you'd arrived, and come back after you felt you'd 'centered' yourself. She didn't understand why there were so many unhappy people who weren't taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didn't quite know how to explain that saying "most" people couldn't afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didn't even cover it, as "most" sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.

I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most "city" guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldn't because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad "mesh" put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didn't have the money to win a lawsuit over.

I don't know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfather's money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, I'll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your family’s life too, not just their own.

I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when I'd had mom sound instincts from age 9.

I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldn't and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldn't ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldn't give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their "marriage contract" type agreement and she couldn't ever stay with us overnight when there wasn't a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dad's life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.

The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldn't conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothers' education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didn't think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didn't want to risk asking for the standard week's bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadn't built up a reputation yet.

My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, he'd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say they'd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, although...tbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing 😅. The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad he'd gone, we'd live on just fine without him because that's how he'd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I don't think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for God's sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.

That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of "fair" is one you don't easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and I'm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldn't afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I don't care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?

Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that I'd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went "the government needs to confiscate more money from me". The narrative is always that the "undeserving" will use it for dumb things they don't need like iPhones or refrigerators...?...but like...I could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly either....?....who is going to get more joy out of this misspent money....?....not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.

My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents don't have it. It's the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could just...pay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didn't have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckin' best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.

...anyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.

I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldn't come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldn't be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I don't breathe heavy or anything, and I'm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like "fine if you don't go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it out" and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didn't really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didn't even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.

They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for "skipping" chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didn't have a serious infection that needed treating and couldn't rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.

After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dad's discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is like...etiquette school....? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to "finishing" school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasn't entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like "what a rich man wants in a wife" school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.

I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didn't count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.

It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because it's one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I don't remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life I've given don't always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.

Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didn’t need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.

Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didn’t solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, it’s my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.

[blackdiamondwrites127]

The Royal House of Trastámara (Redux)

So since the Trastámara family has become even more complete with the addition of Juan, I figured I'd make redo of this post! So here are the daughters and son of the Royal House of Trastámara.

Link to original post

Isabella of Aragon, Queen of Portugal

The eldest child of Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castille, Isabella was named after her mother and became the heir presumptive to the Crown of Castille after her mother took the throne from her uncle Henry IV of Castille. She was betrothed and married to Prince Afonso, heir and only son of John II of Portugal. Her marriage with the prince was a happy one but unfortunately, Afonso died due to a riding accident and Isabella vowed never to marry again. Until six years later, after the death of John II of Portugal, his brother, Manuel I of Portugal, usurped the throne and asked for Isabella's hand in marriage. Her parents offered Maria's hand instead out of respect to Isabella's wishes to never marry again but Manuel refused. Eventually, she married him and became queen consort of Portugal. She later gave birth to her only son, Miguel de Paz, Prince of Portugal, and due to her poor health and constant travelling during the later stages of her pregnancy, she died within an hour of her son's birth.

In her second life, Isabella owns and works in her own music shop located just below her flat. She sometimes fills in for Maria on the drums whenever she's sick and just generally enjoys the simple things in her second life. She's grown to be very passive due in this life and can be quite sarcastic at times which may come off as rude but she means well. However, bad mouth her younger sister she'll go after you.

Isabella Trastámara belongs to @lexartsstuff.

John, Prince of Asturias

was the only son of Isabella I of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon who survived to adulthood. John was born in Seville in 1478 to the sovereigns of Castile, Isabella I and Ferdinand II. John's birth helped consolidate Isabella's position as sovereign as she had given birth to a legitimate male heir. At the time of his birth, he had one elder sister Isabella; his younger sisters were Joanna, Maria, and Catherine. During his early years, Isabella and Ferdinand came to plan a double alliance with Maximilian I, Holy Roman Emperor, for the marriage of his children, Archduke Philip the Handsome and Archduchess Margaret of Austria. On 20 January 1495 in Antwerp, a preliminary alliance, which included a wedding of Prince John with Maximilian's daughter was agreed. Similarly, Maximilian's son Philip and John's sister Joanna were to be married. Joanna left Spain to marry Philip the Handsome in late 1496. Philip's sister, Margaret of Austria, aged 18, married John on April 3 the following year in Burgos Cathedral. It was a good marriage and John was devoted to Margaret. On 4 October 1497, a messenger came to John's parents and informed them that their son lay dangerously ill in Salamanca. He and his wife Margaret had arrived a week earlier, on the way to the wedding of his older sister in Portugal. Ferdinand was with his son as John died in the arms of his former tutor Fray Diego Deza. Two months later, on December 8, the Princess of Asturias gave birth to their only child, a stillborn girl.

When he was reincarnated, he found that he was blind in one eye but that didn’t stop him from having the time of his life. He’s very fun loving, happy, energetic and a bit oblivious at times. He’s married to Margaret of Austria, who he calls Maggie. He works as a costume designer for SIX the musical, mainly so he can see his baby sister more. He now goes by Juan rather than John as a ay to stay in touch with his spanish roots.

Juan Trastámara belongs to @weirdbutdecentart100.

Joanna of Castille, Queen of Castille and Aragon

The second eldest daughter of Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castille. Known historically as 'Joanna the Mad' or 'Juana la Loca' in spanish, she was Queen of Castille and Queen of Aragon. Modern Spain evolved from the union of these two kingdoms. Joanna was married by arrangement to Philip the Handsome, Archduke of Austria of the House of Habsburg. Following the deaths of her brother, John, Prince of Asturia, her elder sister Isabella, and her nephew Miguel, Joanna became the heir presumtive to the crowns of Castile and Aragon. When her mother died, Joanna became Queen of Castile. Her father proclaimed himself Governor and Administrator of Castile. Despite being the ruling Queen of Castile, Joanna had little effect on national policy during her reign as she was declared insane and imprisoned in the Royal Convent of Santa Clars in Tordesillas under the orders of her father, who ruled as regent until his death, when she inherited his kingdom as well. When her son Charles I ruled as king, she was nominally co-monarch but remained imprisoned until her death.

In her second life, Joanna or Juana as she preferred to be called, came back a troubled teen. In her misfortune, she was taken in by a very religious and abusive family. The father, named Fernando, would often lock her up in a dark room whenever she had mental breakdowns which are usually bouts of painful laughter. She finally escaped the house and was homeless for years until she found her youngest sister, Catalina. Catalina helped her by housing her until she got back on her feet and got the help she needed for her mental wellbeing.

Juana 'la loca' Trastámara belongs to @ellielovesdrawing.

Maria of Aragon, Queen of Portugal

The third eldest daughter of Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castille. After the untimely death of her older sister, she married her husband Manuel I of Portugal and replaced her as queen of Portugal. As a queen, she wasn't that involved in politics at all and her focus consists mainly of religious teachings, sewing and child rearing. Although, she is sometimes credited for convincing her husband into acts of 'mercy' whenever he flew into a fit of rage. During her marriage and reign as queen, she gave birth to ten children. Eight of whom reached to adulthood. She was constantly pregnant most of her adult life. Only having a few months in between pregnancies and giving birth to her tenth child caused her untimely demise.

Reincarnated into the modern world, Maria woke as a young woman in her early twenties. She's a laid back woman and loves the experience of a good party or a night at a club. She's not as religious as she was in her past life. Not atheistic per se. She'll go to church if she feels like it and even wears a rosary bracelet as some sort of connection to her religion was raised and taught in. She has a friend with benefits that she has fun with weekly. She is 100% childfree in her second life because ten pregnancies in her past life was way more than enough for her. Despite being childfree, she still adores children so she had applied for uni and took up an education course. Graduating after four years and landing her first teaching job at a private academy where Hal and his siblings and cousins go to. That was where she reunited with Catalina during a PTA meeting and the two sisters have never been happier to meet again in their second lives. They then set up a meeting where she reunites with their older sisters, Isabella and Juana.

Maria Trastámara belongs to yours truly.

Catherine of Aragon, Queen of England

The youngest daughter of Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella I of Castille. Catherine was three years old when she was betrothed to Arthur, Prince of Wales, heir apparent to the English throne. They married but Arthur died five months later. She was the first known female ambassador in European history. Catherine subsequently married Arthur's younger brother, Henry VIII. For six months, she served as regent of England while Henry VIII was in France. In 1525, Henry VIII was infatuated with Anne Boleyn and dissatisfied that his marriage to her had produced no surviving sons, leaving their daughter, the future Mary I of England, as heir presumptive at a time when there was no established precedent for a woman on the throne. He sought to have their marriage annulled, setting in motion a chain of events that led to England's schism with the Catholic Church. When Pope Clement VII refused to annul the marriage, Henry defied him by assuming supremacy over religious matters. Their marriage was consequently declared invalid and Henry married Anne on the judgement of clergy in England, without reference to the pope. Catherine refused to accept Henry as supreme head of the Church in England and considered herself the king's rightful wife and queen, attracting much popular sympathy. Despite this, she was acknowledged only as dowager princess of Wales by Henry. After being banished from court by Henry, she lived out the remainder of her life at Kimbolton Castle, and died of cancer.

In her second life, Catherine or Catalina as she prefers to be called to avoid confusion with the other C/Katherines, found herself in a house with her ex husband's five other wives. Tensions were high on the first few months, especially between her and Anne Boleyn but the six soon got things settled and managed to create a family dynamic within their shared home. They created a musical about their stories and garnered quite the success. She mostly acts as the head matriarch of the house. Making sure that everyone was alright and knew not to cause any trouble that might get them hurt. The addition of their children being reincarnated made her even more attentive, caring and loving to her new found family.

[stars-are-just-ghosts]

Supernatural Isn’t Just A Show

I started watching Supernatural fifteen years ago, just like many of you. I followed the paths of two young men who hunted the evils in the world that the rest of us couldn’t have imagined on a good day. Vampires and demons and monsters. Greek gods, angels, Lucifer himself. The stories were heartfelt and humorous and dark and tender. They challenged us to see that monsters could be good, and being evil was a choice. They brought us into a reality of hope and fighting the whole world if it meant that your family was safe.

That’s what the show was really about, you see. The hunting and the laughter and the dark and everything in between was just the icing on the cake. The real story? That was family. Two brothers who came together and saved the world, again and again. Two brothers who fought side by side, and sometimes with each other, and always for what was right, even if the drawn line was hard to see. Two brothers whose devotion bled into the world around them and brought other amazing people into the fold. Two brothers who grew to have a circle of people who were the epitome of family, because ‘family don’t end with blood.’  Castiel and Charlie and Bobby and Kevin and Crowley and Jack and the list goes on. A list that extended beyond the characters, beyond the actors, beyond the show itself. One that includes you, me... JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey.

Let me tell you about JoAnn.

Her daughter and I went to school together, a beautiful young woman named Sarah. Over the years I spent so much time at their house and with JoAnn that it was beyond easy to see them as family. And JoAnn became incredibly special to me. My mother and I have always had a strained, tumultuous relationship with very little in the way of affection. JoAnn, however, became the emotional mother I’d never had. We would laugh together (she had a killer sense of humor,) I would call her just to share something or vent (there was never a moment she wasn’t willing to listen,) she was able to hold all four of my babies after they were born (and they lovingly called her Auntie JoAnn.) And I even managed to get her addicted to Supernatural. 

She loved Dean, especially Dean’s rear end. (-wiggles brows-) 

Shortly before her first and only grandson was born, JoAnn became terminally ill and passed away. She never got to see her grandson, or hold him, or watch him grow up. I think about that all the time, especially when I see a picture of him that Sarah has posted. When I’m watching Supernatural, and Dean says something familiar or I remember a moment in the show that JoAnn particularly loved, I think about JoAnn and how much I wish she could have seen her grandbaby. And how much I wish her daughter, the lovely Sarah, could have experienced that, too. I wonder if JoAnn would have shared this show with her adorable little grandson. I miss that woman every day.

Now, let me tell you about Steven.

His father, Steve, is one of my best friends. I’ve known him for over twenty years. And when his three children were little, I used to babysit them. His son, Steven, was born with severe Cerebral Palsy. He was nonverbal, wheelchair bound, and was tube fed. But he was also the funniest, brightest, most happy boy I’d ever met. He had the most brilliant smile, and the greatest laugh. And whenever someone he loved or really liked walked into a room, his eyes would light up like stars. 

When Steven hit adulthood, I would help his Dad out when Steven was at his house. We liked to watch movies and tv shows together. And I offered up the suggestion of Supernatural. It became like tradition after that. We would all be there in the living room, Steven on the floor with his Dad, and we’d watch the episodes in order. It always made me happy, to be able to share that with them. 

About four years ago, Steven became ill, landing in the hospital. While there, his heart gave out. He passed away without ever having finished the show he had grown to love. Since then, his Dad hasn’t been able to watch anymore. It’s too painful. Too hard to think that Steven isn’t there to watch it with him. I understand completely. Because I’ll watch an old episode and remember Steven’s unabashed laughter. And I wish he was still here to watch it with us. I talked with Steve about giving it another try. He heard the show is ending soon, and I think he is finally ready to see it through, to finish it for both himself and his son. Let me tell you about Jeffrey.

Jeffrey has lived in NYC for over 20 years now. He is my big brother, and was diagnosed with different mental illnesses, including Borderline Personality Disorder. He’s still made a life for himself that makes him happy in a place I know for sure I would never survive in. (I’m a small town girl, through and through.) And it was because of my brother that I found out about GISHWHES. 

You have to understand, my brother doesn’t open up to people easily or step out of his comfort zone for just anyone or anything. But in doing this scavenger hunt? My brother walked around NYC in a robot costume, including taking the subway and walking crowded streets. He also wore a bikini made of lettuce, and not once was shy about it. He dove right in and gave it his all in order to help other people, and to this day I am still insanely proud of him for it. 

After everything he went through, from living on the subway for nearly two years (and never telling us) to going from corporate work (which he hated) to doing something he really loved (comic books, baby) to being hospitalized for suicidal tendencies to finally being diagnosed with things he had struggled with all his life but never had taken care of, and finally having a sense of mental health in a new job as a live-in dog nanny, this amazing man is finally happy. And when I think of that, I think of the video of him wandering around dressed as a robot because of GISHWHES.  Now, if you’ll bare with me... let me tell you about myself.

I am a pansexual woman married to my best friend with four amazing children. 

I have depression and anger issues that I have struggled most of life with. 

I have spent a good chunk of my adult life being a stay-at-home-mom and only now am going back to school to learn a new career. I have rescued and taken care of animals since I was 17, something my children have grown to love as well. And I am happier now than I have ever been. But it wasn’t always that way.

I had my best friend die in my arms when I was 12, that being my first experience with death and grief and unchecked anger. And I grew up a lonely kid who spent most of my time hiding how depressed I was, doing everything I could to take care of everyone else in my life, the majority of them never knowing how much I actually struggled with just living. The first love of my life was killed in a car accident when I was 16. My parents divorced when I was 17 and I dropped out of high school, working three jobs just so I wouldn’t be home with my mother. 

I was married to a selfish and controlling man at 18, had my first child at 19, second at 20, third at 23, and divorced at 23 with three small children and no job. I was terrified and didn’t know what I was going to do. Everything was up and down and inside out.

But I have a very clear memory of sitting down one night, after the kids had gone to sleep and the apartment was quiet and I was alone with nothing but my thoughts and the television… and a repeat episode of Supernatural (Season 2, Episode 16 – Roadkill) was on. (Spoilers ahead if you, by chance, have not seen this episode.)

In that moment, I was barely paying attention to it. I was a wreck, filled with guilt and fear. My face was covered in tears, and I was sobbing as I sat there and rocked with a pillow held in my grip (I oddly remember that pillow vividly because it had rough edges.) But as the episode progressed, I began to quiet. I remember listening intently to Sam and Molly as they sat on an old bed in Greeley’s home, looking at the letters he’d written to his wife. 

“It’s a love letter he wrote her… my God, it’s beautiful… I don’t understand how a guy like this can turn into a monster.” Molly said to Sam. I mirrored that sentiment, in my own way. (I know my situation wasn’t the same.) I’d married a man I’d thought I’d loved. A man I thought loved me. But his actions and selfishness lead to the downfall of our marriage, our family, and my (then) situation. But I had been the one to make the decision to end things, right? After everything he’d done, I couldn’t be with someone I couldn’t trust. And it wasn’t just about me… it was about our children. They needed a mother who was happy…

At the end of the episode, Molly is faced with the reality that she has been dead the entire time and that her husband David had already said his goodbyes, moving on without her.

“What am I supposed to do?” Molly asked, in tears.

“Just… let go. Of David. Of everything. You do that… we think you’ll move on.” Sam responded gently.

Isn’t that what I should be doing? I thought. Because by that point, I’d been stuck in grief and fear for months. I don’t think I knew it until that point, but I’d been holding onto it like a security blanket because it made sense, it seemed like I deserved it.

“But you don’t know where…” Molly responded, her voice still soft with tears.

“No... Molly, you don’t belong here. Haven’t you suffered long enough?” Sam asked. “It’s time… it’s time to go.”

I sat there in stunned silence. 

As odd as it sounds, it felt like he was talking to me. Because for years I’d tried to keep our marriage together because I thought I had to for our children. For years, I’d practically raised those three children alone. For months, I had sat in a holding pattern, waiting for my shoulders to finally break under all the weight from the failure I felt and the misery I was drowning in, doing everything I could to be a good mother with nothing to fall back on. But then I watched Molly walk into the light, tears streaming down her face, a smile ghosting across her lips, and I realized… I really had suffered long enough.

“You really think she’s going to a better place?” Dean asked after Molly moved on.

“I hope so.” Sam replied.

“I guess we’ll never know, not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?” Dean said with half a smirk.

“Doesn’t really matter, Dean. Hope’s kind of the whole point.” Sam said.

And there it was. What I’d been missing. Hope. 

This show, these two actors, those two brothers opened my eyes to something that had been right in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what the future would bring, I didn’t know what I was going to do next. But I was certain I had suffered enough. I was certain I needed to move on, for my children, for myself. And as the episode ended, I wiped my tears off my face, shut off the tv and kissed every one of my sleeping children a few dozen times. And I went to bed thinking about the depiction of that light, that hope.

Two years later, I married my best friend – the love of my life, a good man who never lies, never hurts me or my kids, lifts me up when I feel down, makes me laugh every day, treats me far better than I will ever think I deserve. We had a baby boy together, bringing our family to a total of four amazing kids who all call him Dad. We have our own home which we work so hard for, we have a plethora of animals who make every day adventurous, and I am finally on a career track I feel excited about. All because I decided to stop living in my suffering, and move on.

That is why this show is not ‘just a show.’ For me, anyway. Because of JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey. Because of the hope I found with the show itself. And I know I am not alone in at least this sentiment.

Every season since, I have watched the episodes. I have followed the stories and witnessed the amazing things this fandom has done for each other and complete strangers. I have seen people’s lives changed by the show and the actors, I have been able to connect with other people I never would have known, and get closer to those I already did. I have shared this series with my children, who all love it and the main characters as much as I do.

And right now, as we get near the end of the series, I am not ashamed to admit that I am hurting. I feel a genuine heartache. A genuine loss. I feel like a part of my history is coming to a close. But like at that moment when my world was inside out and I was trapped in my own little hell, I have hope. 

I don’t know what waits for me. I never have. I don’t know what awaits any of us. But this show will never really die. The connections we’ve made, the way the stories and people have touched us… that never really goes away. 

Whether we watch Supernatural on repeat on a bad day, or follow the actors as they move on to new adventures, or get someone in our life to start watching it, this show will always be around. Just like hope. And… isn’t it like Sam said? “Hope’s kind of the whole point.”

So, hold on to hope. And message me if you’re grieving, if you need an ear from a fellow fan, or just someone to shoot Supernatural memes back and forth with. We’re a family. You, me, all of us. And I’ll always be here for you.

(P.S. I will ship Destiel till the bitter end.)

Love,

QuietDarkness (stars-are-just-ghosts)

[arcticdementor]

Why don't we look where this has actually happened: Israel. Israel hit a nadir of TFR of 2.7 back in 1992 and slowly, but sustainably rose back to 3.1. How? Part of this was having some highly religious groups who were able to keep up birth rates and naturally increase their share of the population. Part of this was subsidizing assisted reproduction healthcare (to the tune of 1.5% of the budget). Part of it is tax and transfer policies. Mothers get cash from the government after a birth. Tax exemptions are granted for having children. Part of it is social policy. The highly fecund are prioritized for public housing, they are granted exemption from some military service, and a few other perks. Part of it is cultural. Some Israelis like to have kids to stick it to Hitler. Some do so as part of their patriotic duties. Some are actively engaged in a race with the Arabs of the area to preserve the Jewish character of Israel. Most importantly, when you grow up among a high fertility culture, you are more likely to increase your fertility as well. Even secular Israelis have outsized TFRs compared to their European or American counterparts. For the developed world I suspect that eventually some highly religious population will keep having more children (e.g. like the Haredi in Israel), the government will subsidize them (and anyone else) as more workers is a large net cash benefit on generational timescales (and likely to be highly effective politics for at least one party), in time those who grow up with their closest friends marrying young and having more than two children will themselves become more likely to have more than two children, and eventually the net present value of raising children will equilibrate towards the long term value of more future taxpayers to the government (and even if the majority of these kids are net negatives, increasing the pool leads to more extreme outliers who will more than pay back for the rest). Trends likely to help this along: The rise of remote work. The preferred economic arrangement in the US is for dad to work full time and for mom to work part time (or not at all). This is hard to manage. Living within easy commutes of the good jobs gets pricey quickly and finding part-time work that makes sense given the logistics of commuting (e.g. needing an extra car), childcare, and end wage has drastically limited the ability of families to fulfill this preference. Moving online gets rid of many commuting concerns, and even for those who don't get freed from them, the decreased demand should make it easier to get space near the office and to do more work from home. Cash for kids. Romney has a quite impressive child benefit program. He and other conservatives are now arguing for direct cash transfers (if only in place of government services); these are by far the most popular policy for parents to receive any such assistance. The poor hate the intrusiveness and inflexibility of other measures, the middle class want to be able to dial back mom's hours or pay for parochial school, and even the upper class would not mind being able to use such monies to procure childcare that might otherwise be just out of reach. Frankly, the only opponents seem to be high status dual-income families (who prefer subsidized childcare), the credentialed administrators and educators who manage the current system, and a few brave tax hawks. Absent some change in political dynamics or a debt crisis, I expect that there will be a bidding war and we are setup for the Democrats to be the ones low balling. I suspect that before the decade is out we will have more direct transfers to families and women will have more freedom to pursue both their desired career goals (or lack thereof) and their desired fertility goals. Lastly, I suspect future generations will not be as kind to the moral changes wrought by the 60s liberation. We have been promised untold number of beneficial outcomes from social change, but they keep failing to pan out. Divorce has not lead to happier children nor to increased adult life satisfaction. Drug use has lead to drastic decreases in life expectancy among using populations with exceedingly few of the promised benefits of the psychonauts. Even the sexual bacchanals promised have turned into litigious affairs regarding consent, regret, and, if self-reported data is true, rather lackluster. This will be particularly true if any of the doom prophets are correct and the Boomers leave us with a massive bill for the debt/climate/geopolitics/etc. that future generations view as being run up by the "me generation" demanding its freedom without consequences. Things not in the cards that might be helpful: 1. Banning the use of degrees in job hiring. Allow employers to measure any skill or knowledge one gains during the degree process, but ban the use of degree requirements as such. Freeing young people from needing to dump 4 years into education for ever more menial jobs would allow for them to start their adult lives sooner, perhaps before fertility concerns hit (e.g. the average woman needs to actively start her childbearing efforts in her late 20s if she wishes to have the average number of kids desired with reasonable odds of not needing ART). 2. Normalization of larger families. How often do we see any modern families with even four kids in television shows? People tend to adjust their expectations to what is shown around them. If fewer of our cultural narratives were about the single woman slaying Goliath or the mother fiercely devoted to her one (or two) children things might go further. As a student of history, it always amazes me that so many period pieces rarely feature families of historical sizes and how modern casts rarely have anyone with fertility in the top standard deviation of the population depicted. 3. Religious revival. I am highly doubtful I will live to see this, but we have seen many places (Israel, the former communist states of Eastern Europe, parts of China) undergo religious revival. And if the 1930s were anything to go by, it is quite possible that a lot of the folks who get disillusioned by the current secular fad religions may revert to something more robust for family formations (e.g. Sunni Islam, Catholicism, Mormonism). 4. Polygamy. Right now, men who desire more children have to marry one spouse who has similar desires. While men can have children out-of-wedlock, it comes with large social costs. It is quite possible that as polygamy becomes normalized, the minority of men who want more children will be able to make socially acceptable arrangements with multiple women to arrange that (certainly the FLDS do well enough here). I still doubt that polygamy will play out like this (and it has historically been associated with lower TFR), but it is at least possible.

Sure

[adventure-hearts]

Epilogue Celebration: “Couples”

The Epilogue is my favourite timeline for Sora x Yamato, so ofc I’m going to use this prompt as an excuse to talk about them. But how do you sum up a vision built on almost 20 years of headcanons and stories? Here is my modest attempt...

“State of The Art”

As of 2028, Sora and Yamato (40) have been together for around 10 years. The exact timeline of the relationship depends on which of them you ask; when they got back together at the end of the 2010s, they took a while to go from a no-strings-attached relationship to being an official couple. It took them even longer to decide to get married, since both were pretty wary of marriage. 

When, after a few years of dating, Yamato was assigned by JAXA to an astronaut training course in France, he asked Sora to come and live with him. Making things legal made immigration bureaucracy less complicated, so they just took the extra step and eloped. The only witnesses at their wedding were their Digimon partners (something Takeru cries over to this day)! They lived in France for a few years and had two kids, Hana (6) and Ren (3), who were born there. During this period, Yamato, who had a position at the European Space Agency, completed two space trips, while Sora worked at a big Parisian fashion house. 

In 2025, after Yamato’s international assignment ended, they relocated to Japan, and Sora decided to start her own fashion label, to great success. Since both make decent money, they now live in a lovely house with a garden and have a comfortable financial situation. This is where we find them at the time of the Epilogue.

Raising the Kids

Sora was initially scared of becoming a mother. Growing up with everyone treating her as a “mom friend” and feeling responsible for the well-being of others, in addition to the pressures of belonging to the Takenouchi family, she was hesitant to have a child unless she was sure she would not mess it up. Yamato, on the other hand, craved kids (being very fond of his nephew Théo) and secretly dreamed of having a child with Sora, but didn’t push the subject much until Sora decided for herself.

Sometime after Hana’s birth, after it was clear that they both were made for parenthood, they were happy to expand the family, but there were a few health issues during pregnancy and childbirth. Baby Ren was born premature from an emergency c-section, and they were told conceiving again was very unlikely. So, with some regret, the Takenouchi-Ishida family was complete.

Sora and Yamato are usually on the same page when it comes to raising Hana and Ren. They value their happiness and freedom above everything else, and living abroad influenced them and made them have a pretty modern approach to parenting. 

Yamato was raised with practically no rules or adult supervision, and Sora was the opposite, so they try to find a balance for their kids. It’s usually Sora who enforces rules, because Yamato is very easily manipulated by the kids who tend to get their way around him every time. By contrast, Yamato is the hands-on, overprotective dad who truly believes his children to be faultless and superior to all other kids, something Sora tries to balance a little to make sure the kids are polite and unspoiled.

It isn’t always easy to juggle work-family balance, but they have a lot of help and support from their parents, especially since they moved back to Japan. Hiroaki, in particular, is a keen baby sitter, but all four grandparents almost fight over who gets to watch the kids when Yamato and Sora are working!

Relationship Dynamics

Sora and Yamato are very passionate and devoted to each other (after all, they’ve been in love since they were teenagers, even though it took them a long while to get together), but they also have a somehow atypical relationship.  They aren’t openly demonstrative in public. They were the last of the group to start a family. They don’t share a last name (because Sora is an only child and heir to an important iemoto family, like her mom, she didn’t change her name after marriage; a recent law allows Yamato to keep his birth name, but the kids are Takenouchi). They eloped instead of having a big wedding. They have demanding careers that involve traveling abroad and off-planet. They happen to both be former Chosen Children (although Sora “retired” from Digimon business in 2010).

This means that they are pretty independent, and they are used to spending time away from each other. The saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” is key here! Yamato and Sora make sure to treasure every second they do spend together and enjoy it to the max. Friends joke they are weird, but behind closed doors they are constantly on the honeymoon phase, because they don’t really have time to get bored with each other.

Supporting each other’s careers is an important aspect of the marriage. They are both passionate about their jobs. Sora made it clear, from the start, that she would not be willing to get married or have kids if that meant sacrificing her dream of becoming a fashion designer or that she wouldn’t accept anything other than an egalitarian partnership with her husband and co-parent. Luckily, Yamato is a good housekeeper and sharing chores hasn’t been much of a problem here (though she still struggles with some of the habits he acquired living with his Dad). Sora is also very understanding of Yamato’s dangerous job and can handle it better than most (though of course she worries!).

Although Sora moved across countries for the sake of Yamato’s job, and has to take care of the kids alone when he was off in space (which required her to postpone her career plans for some time), Yamato was also the main person who supported her decision start her own fashion house in Japan. Nowadays, he’s usually the one who misses work to stay home with the kids while Sora works weekends and late nights, running her growing fashion empire.

Yamato has only been on one space travel since the kids were born (he spent eight months away from home in 2026) and now has a very flexible schedule that lets him spent lots of time at home. This coincided with the period when Sora was building her brand and achieving success, and so was more busy than ever. They try to arrange their schedules so they don’t spend more than two weeks apart and Sora devotedly schedules “dates” so they have quality time together. But both know it’s inevitable that he will be called again, especially if a threat appears or if world governments decide to invest in a Mars mission, so this work-family balance may face some challenges in the near future.

For them, emotional distance can be more of a problem than physical distance. They tend to avoid discussing problems and fears when they aren’t together, and so sometimes they feel a little isolated with their feelings. Sora often feels very overwhelmed with her many responsibilities (running a successful label alongside with helping her aging mother with the Ikebana school), but is too proud to ask for anyone’s help, and can feel disgruntled when she feels Yamato isn’t paying enough attention to her. Meanwhile, when Yamato has an important work-assignment in his hands, he throws himself headfirst and can become distant. He often feels guilty for neglecting his wife and kids and worries about not being present enough, because his fear is that history will repeat itself. 

Rest assured, though, because marital problems are a rarity. Years have helped them communicate better and they know each other inside out; this a mutually satisfying, supportive, and harmonious marriage all around.

Random Couple Headcanons for the other Chosen

Miyako & Ken - Happily married eternal lovebirds; the kind that don’t shy away from embarrassing their kids in public.

Mimi - Surprisingly uninterested in serious romantic relationships, she decided to have a baby on her own.

Takeru - Went through the marriage, baby, and divorce phase while still in his mid-twenties. His ex-wife is a French Chosen Child who lives in Japan, and who has since remarried. They have a very friendly relationship for the sake of their son and share 50/50 custody. Since his divorce, Takeru enjoys the single life to the max, without any desire for a serious relationship with anyone except maybe one woman.

Taichi - Recently went through a litigious divorce and is having trouble with his ex-wife. He’s been trying to make sure his son isn’t affected by this, and has been relying a lot on his sister and his closest friends for moral support. 

Koushirou - Married a fellow researcher and is by all accounts very happy.

Jou - Happily married his high-school sweetheart, who is also a doctor.

Iori - His wife was one of Miyako’s former co-workers and her protegée, and she now stays home and manages the family. They married very young because they didn’t see a point in waiting to have a committed and stable family.

Hikari - Married an older man who died suddenly of cancer a few years back. She lives with her parents who help her raise her little boy. Has a lot of suitors.

Daisuke - Never married, but had a son with an ex-girlfriend when he was pretty young. He’s currently engaged to a handsome, wealthy American restaurateur named Dave.

[sparklyjojos]

THE SAIMON FAMILY CASE recaps [1/13]

These will be full recaps of the latest JDC book, The Saimon Family Case (彩紋家事件) from 2004, which is a prequel taking place in the late 70s. While it’s a prequel, it can be read without any knowledge about the series. (It does spoil one death from Carnival at the end, but I feel like everyone already knows about this particular one).

It won’t be obvious in the recaps, but the book consists of seven parts seven chapters each (similar to Maijo’s Tsukumojuku) with two additional parts at the end.

The novel is light in terms of content warnings (for a murder mystery, anyway), but small kids WILL die in this, and we’ll be talking a lot about a specific type of systemic xenophobic violence near the end.

See that big family tree above? Save it somewhere for future reference. Believe me when I say you will need it. (Also, as always in the recaps, family name will be given first, Japanese-style.)

Well then—has everyone found their seats? Is everyone ready to witness the most splendid illusion?

Let's start the show.

PART 1

A note at the beginning informs us that soon 20 years will have passed from the end of the famous Saimon Family Murder Case, often called the “Crime Revolution” because of its impact on the future of similar complicated incidents. The details of the case have been hidden from the masses, but the time will soon come when everyone will learn the truth.

--

It’s the very last day of the year 1999. The mysterious first person narrator of the framing device is an older gentleman attending a New Years celebration in Las Vegas with his wife. They watch a fairly young blond magician perform close up magic for the guests. The magician borrows a 10,000 yen bill from the narrator, seals it in an envelope, sets it on fire, and it suddenly turns into a rose in his hand. When the narrator is asked to check his wallet, inside he finds a bill with the same denomination and serial number, but of a noticeably larger size… among a few other stunning differences.

“Happy New Millenium!” the magician exclaims.

This little illusion awakens memories from that case in both the narrator and his wife. As the world heads towards the new century, they are the only people left who were so closely involved in those tragic events of old.

--

It's September 19th 1977, and the entire Saimon family celebrates the 99th birthday of their old matriarch, Saimon Tamako. The celebration takes place on a performance stage next to the family's main residence in Tsuwano, Shimane Prefecture. Tamako’s daughter Akiko pushes the matriarch’s wheelchair towards the stage.

A perceptive guest may notice two other old women in the crowd who look astonishingly like Saimon Tamako, though they are a little younger (97). These are twin sisters called—if you can believe it—Tsukumo Tamako and Tousen Tamako. The three Tamakos look near identical, and in fact once used that similarity for their magic acts: all secretly shared the single stage name of Soga Tenju. That was decades ago, of course. The Tamakos no longer look like the beautiful young woman (actually women plural) known from her most famous illusion, Courtisane and Bell.

Once Akiko and Tamako take their place on the stage, all the lights suddenly go out for just a second, and in that brief darkness two things happen.

One: the red-and-white stripes of the celebratory curtain decorating the stage suddenly turn into black-and-white stripes of a funeral curtain.

Two: Saimon Tamako dies.

--

Saimon Tamako is ruled to have died of natural causes, not unusual at her age, and the curtain changing color must have been just someone’s attempt at a distasteful joke.

However, the threat of something darker going on still seems to lurk in the background. There’s a lot of people with bad intentions in this world. As part of the Saimons, Akiko is well aware of that. She recalls what she knows about the family's past.

Back at the beginning of the 20th century, Saimon Tamako made her living performing magic with a traveling circus group. Eventually she met a rich man, married him, and with his financial help established the Soga Tenju troupe.

Of course, the magician Soga Tenju was actually three women, all looking identical, all having similarly unclear pasts and wandering with the same group, all being called simply Tamako because no one even knew their real names.

It happened that three rich men of Tsuwano, who all have been friends—Saimon Taishin, Tsukumo Taigen, and Tousen Taikun—fell for the same “Soga Tenju”, and upon discovering the secret behind the magician decided to marry one member of the trio each. Since this was the era it was, the women didn’t really have a say in the matter. (Akiko hopes for more emancipation in the future and feels sad that she probably won’t live to see it; she’s over sixty herself.)

The tendency for similar names came with all sides of the family, it seemed. The three rich men were themselves a little weird, and that shared “Tai” in their names was something they added intentionally to show their bond. Their respective firstborn children—Tsukumo Haruko, Tousen Natsuko and Saimon Akiko—were given names referring to haru (spring), natsu (summer) and aki (fall). Since the Tamakos were so similar looking, their daughters also looked close enough that one could mistake them for triplets.

Akiko herself has three sons—Taishi, Akio, and Takayoshi—but now that they are all adults, they no longer feel so close to her, especially the youngest Takayoshi, who never felt inclined to stage illusion and broke all contact with the family. He didn’t show up for Tamako’s birthday and even now, a month later, hasn’t contacted them yet.

On October 19th, Akiko is busy sewing new props for a magic routine, the Five-Ball Cascade, in which juggled balls seem to change colors between red and white in mid-air. Remembering her times as the young magician Soga Tenshuu, she attempts the act just one more time. As she throws the balls in the air, she feels a stabbing pain in her chest and suddenly sees familiar faces in the balls—her mother, her husband, her sons—changing from white to red, like a bloody cascade. As they fall to the ground, Akiko does too.

--

A month later, on November 19th, a few members of the Saimon family are combing the Tottori sand dunes in search for young Saimon Yuuta, who went missing the previous day after announcing he’d like to show them something at the site. Everyone’s on edge; it’s barely been a month since Akiko's death.

A rope is found sticking out of Umanose, the famous “horse-back” dune, and several people pulling on it manage to unearth what looks like a giant card—four of diamonds—and Yuuta’s corpse tied to it.

--

--

Not even a few years have passed since JDC’s founding when young detective Ajiro Souji and his wife Mizuki take part in Saimon Tamako’s tragic birthday celebration.

The couple feels at home in Shimane, both because Mizuki was born in the prefecture, and because Ajiro has been friends with the Saimon family ever since receiving their help during the Ajiro Family Murder Case—the experience which prompted him to create JDC in the first place.

That case, as usual, was solved by his grandfater Soujin and mentor Shiranui Zenzou [and if you want to know more about it, read Carnival]. Both of them are splendid detectives, but decided young Souji should be the one to become JDC’s representative instead.

...but we keep saying "JDC" here, and the truth is the tiny group doesn’t call itself by the fancy English name Japan Detectives Club yet. It goes simply by Nihon Tantei Club and occupies the third floor of an office building filled with boutiques, clinics and the like.

Aside from Ajiro the representative, the staff consists of six office workers and twelve detectives (not counting Soujin, who is almost always out on business). The detectives are divided into the Shiranui Section and Kirigirisu Section, named after their respective leaders. There is some tension between the sections: the Shiranui part puts more value on past experience and doesn’t approve of choosing young Souji as their representative, while the Kirigirisu part praises his potential and thinks of the organization’s future.

So far Nihon Tantei Club is pretty unknown, no dramatic and giant solved cases to their name, and everyone has a strange conflicting feeling: at once wishing for the peace to never end and wishing for the inevitable tragedy to just happen already; to just get to the point where what should be unusual becomes the new normal, because everyone knows deep down it has to happen one day.

On November 22nd, Kirigirisu Tarou as usual takes the train to work, thinking about how the world will inevitably change as the new century comes around—though, of course, he can’t be sure he will actually get to see it, as nobody knows what will have happened in over twenty years.

Maybe he’s mulling over the passage of time and worries about the future so much because he's a man without a past. Kirigirisu lost all his memories to head injury a few years ago, at the same time when he was wrongly accused of murder. Fortunately, he was proven innocent thanks to both Ajiros, could begin new life as a detective, and even found a wonderful wife called Kano. He would love it if this usual everyday life could continue indefinitely… although without crime, a detective like him would be out of a job. For now he wants to focus on helping the Ajiros as he can.

Kirigirisu arrives at the office, which is mostly empty this early in the morning. Well, except for the delinquent detective Raiouji Rokenrou, looking just like you’d expect a punk named after rock’n’roll to look like (sunglasses, a lot of hair gel…) and taking a nap on the couch. Apparently Ajiro Souji had a long meeting with him about something last night, and now wants to talk to Kirigirisu.

Ajiro Souji is a sharply dressed 29-year-old man, easy to mistake for a normal office worker in the crowd. (Kirigirisu always flinches a bit seeing his elegant tie; he himself has a strange phobia of wearing anything around his neck, which he suspects has to do with an unknown event forever hidden behind his amnesia).

They each light a cigarette and have a friendly conversation. Ajiro mentions that he recently tried to switch to cigars, but alas, it seems that it’s still “too early” for him to appreciate them; about forty years too early, according to grandpa Soujin. [Seeing as Ajiro is a huge cigar fan in most of the series, grandpa miscalculated by at least two decades.]

Soujin is a thin man of short stature who hardly looks like someone in their seventies, although his hair is just as white as his usual suit, with just a black bowtie breaking the color. He always gives off the air of a mafia boss, his sheer power of personality taking hold of everyone around. Soujin apparently feels constant wanderlust, so he almost never shows up at the office. In fact, Kirigirisu hasn't seen him in over two months now. Who knows what he’s doing.

But back to the situation at hand, Ajiro wants Kirigirisu's help. For the next few days, they will investigate a case together in another prefecture, Rokenrou taking care of Kirigirisu’s section in his absence.

The case surrounds a strange series of deaths. First, Saimon Tamako dying (seemingly) of old age on her birthday on September 19th. Second, her daughter Akiko suffering a (seemingly) accidental death on October 19th, when a misplaced sewing needle stabbed into her heart. And third, a very strange but (seemingly) accidental death of another Saimon family member that has just happened on November 19th. Ajiro and Kirigirisu are to investigate whether or not the perfectly spaced string of incidents may be an act of serial killing.

The case is of personal importance to Ajiro. After all, the person who requested their services is the same man that helped solve the Ajiro Family Murder Case: Saimon Ryuusui, known better as the great magician Soga Tensui.

--

(The third person narration swaps here to a completely different font, and informs us helpfully: but ah, before the two detectives could head to Tsuwano, they would go to Yamaguchi first, to watch the magic show of the Saimon family, a marvelous experience that Ajiro has already had a few times because of his friendship with the family, and that Kirigirisu would witness for the first time.

And from the very moment they were invited to see the show first, they felt uneasiness settle inside them. Only much, much later would one realize just how deep the hidden meaning of the show really was, and that solving all its mysteries was crucial to solving the Saimon Family Murder Case.

You could even say that the show itself, filled with so many wondrous mysteries to solve, was the true Saimon Family Murder Case. If so, then the magician Soga Tensui could be defined as its culprit—and if so, then Ajiro and Kirigirisu have just walked right into a marvelous illusion indeed.)

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

[ginnranger]

Character Information

 Clearly I have put more thought into some of these characters than others, but I will add to this as I write more and develop them more.

General Information -

Name: Ginn Ranger

Gender: Female

Nickname(s): Little G, Sweets (By Martin only), Lady Ranger (Martin), Little Ember (Past - hated),

Date of Birth: 1st January, 2002

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Ethnicity: English, Irish

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Panromantic, Asexual

Family: 

The Ranger family is an Irish descended family, residing in Liverpool City, then London. They are a poor family, but they get by well enough with what they have. Patrick and Mary had Ginn accidentally when they were 18. They got married when Ginn was 5 years old, when they were 23. They follow an ancient and rare tribal culture, known as Star Chasers, who believe the stars are the souls of their ancestors, and prioritise a person’s ability to fight.

Father: Patrick Ranger is a Northern Irish descended man who moved to Liverpool with his father when he was 10 years old, after the mysterious death of his mother. He was arrested and thrown in Juvenile Detention when he was 15 for assault and assist in an attempted murder, where he stayed until he turned 16. Once he was released, he was put on parole and pursued an apprenticeship and career in carpentry. He met Mary in the carpentry workshop, as she worked as the clerk in the shop. He is extremely creative, and blessed with artistic skills, like drawing, carving, and pyrography. He also enjoys music, and played guitar, until he had to sell it to scrounge enough money for bills when he was 25. His mother died mysteriously when he was 10, making his father even more neurotic than before, and forcing them to run to England and live with his uncle and cousin. He was disowned by his father at 17, when he started dating Mary. He has rusty ginger hair, styled messily, cut 4 inches at the sides and back, and 5 inches in top, having it fall over his right eye. The sides are tucked behind his ears. He has forest green eyes and light pale skin. He has a slim build, with broad shoulders and strong arms.

Mother: Mary Pendle (Later Ranger) is a Southern Irish descended woman whose family moved to Liverpool two generations before Mary was born. She completed A-Levels in Maths, Physics, and a B-TEC in Business, then moved on to do a degree in Mathematics and Finance in the university of Liverpool. She met Patrick at age 16, when she went to work as the saleswoman in the carpentry shop Patrick worked in. She worked so she could make her own money and run away from her abusive mother. However, she was disowned by her mother when she started dating Patrick. Her mother and her sister attempted to murder her after disowning her, but luckily, she managed to get into public eye before passing out to be taken to the hospital. Mary became pregnant aged 18 with Patrick’s child, so struggled a lot more with university than originally thought. She was diagnosed with Autism when she was 20, after one of her professors recognised some of the general characteristics in her. She has curly, messy, brown hair, that she usually keeps down, with a fringe swooping to the right, and cut to the middle of her shoulder blades. She has pale skin, with light freckles over the bridge of her nose, and bright, electric blue eyes. She has a skinny, curvy build.

Other family (s): Liyo Anand (Friend of Mary and Patrick, husband of Scot), Scot Lander (friend of Patrick and Mary, husband of Liyo), Amanda Lander (the mother of Scot, who took in Mary and Patrick when they were disowned, and helped them with Ginn when she was a baby), Gillian Pendle (Mary’s mother, never met), Finnley Ranger (Patrick’s father, never met).

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s): When she is older, she helps Martin’s charity.

Occupation(s): Illustrator, activist

Appearance -

Height: 5’3”

Weight: 6st 5lb

Eyes: Heterochromia; right eye is electric blue, left eye is amber-brown

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): pale, with light freckles on bridge of nose, and often had bags under her eyes. She had two large scars on her back, stretching from her right shoulder, down diagonally to the middle of her back, under her shoulder blades. There is a straight, thick scar on her left side, a slimmer scar on her right forearm, and a few self harm scars on her thighs.

Hair Colour/ Style: Rusty ginger. Cut short to the top of her ears, but often left to grow to jaw length, in a choppy and messed up style. She has a fringe swept to the left, covering her brown eye. It is mainly cut at home by her mother, but she will cut it on her own when she is going through a crisis. She had longer hair when she was younger, but she went through some traumatic experiences that made her cut it short to feel more in control.

Dress sense: She dresses in loose, baggy clothing, as she is very uncomfortable with being perceived as feminine due to trauma. She often wears an oversized khaki green army style jacket. Her favourite colour is green, so she often wears one of her many green tshirts, with all types of sleeve length. She likes black jeans and walking trousers, and often wears boots.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): English (Dyslexia), Sciences

Best Class(es): Art

Sport(s): running, gymnastics (no team, but very good) (Enjoys free-running and parkour)

Club(s): N/A

Status: Loser, outcast, art kid. When she becomes friends with the others, she moves up the social ladder

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favorite place: top of Anglican Cathedral. likes to be outside, so is happy anywhere she can see the stars at night.

Hobbies: Drawing, animating, running, parkour.

Past events: As a child, she was never able to connect with her peers, for reasons she could not understand. This made her so lonely, she was manipulated into entering a bad crowd, but she only ended up gaining scars on her back, trauma from sexual and physical abuse, and more trust issues. She says the only good thing she got from those experiences is her excellent judge in character and her ability to fight.

Medical/Psychological history: She has a rare medical condition (Hemovenenum [blood poisoning]) that requires 1-2 injections a day in order to keep her steady and alive. This makes her have heart attacks, and makes her immunity severely low. Needs at least two check-ups a year. She developed PTSD and depression from the traumatic experiences as a 12 year old. She developed social anxiety after so much rejection by her peers as a child.

General Information -

Name: Martin Williams

Gender: Male

Nickname(s): Mart, Tin (by Ginn), Master Williams (By Ginn)

Date of Birth: 25th October 2001

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Ethnicity: Spanish, Black

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Bisexual

Family: The Williams family is new money rich. Martin’s father, Conner, invented a new printing press machine, as well as more sustainable paper and ink, patenting it and creating his own printing company. Mr Peterson’s magazine was the first to invest in Conner’s company. This happened when Martin was 4 years old. His mother’s side is Spanish, and father’s side is black. They are all extremely close, having family gatherings a lot and doing many of their hobbies together. Their main connection is their love for music, all of them playing a different instrument and writing songs together. Martin and his two brothers love to run and venture through nature, parkouring through the wilderness.

Father: Conner Williams is a British black man, who despite his money, is very down to earth as he remembers what it is like to struggle. He is a caring CEO, and makes sure every employee has a good wage, great conditions, and an excellent experience in the workplace. He likes to help people, and is very generous. He enjoys music, and taught Martin how to play different instruments. He has dark brown eyes, thick curly black hair, and a thin, neatly shaved beard.

Mother: Elena Williams moved to England when she was 20, her family following her six years later. She is an interior designer, and works with Zack Peterson, advertising herself and putting simple designs in a section of his magazine. She is a caring, unbothered woman who does not care what people think of her, she just lives her life how she wants. She taught all her children Spanish, plays piano wither family, and taught Martin and Valeria how to cook. She had long, wavy, mahogany brown hair, reaching almost to her butt. She likes to keep it down, but if needed she will put it in a pony tail. She has large, russet brown eyes, and sun kissed skin.

Conner and Elena were the youngest couple in the group of parents, until Mary and Patrick joined them.

Other family (s): Dominic (eldest brother), Mateo (older brother) Valeria (younger sister), aunts, uncles, cousins, all four grandparents

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s): a charity he volunteered in from 14yrs old.

Occupation(s): the same charity he volunteered in

Appearance -

Height: 5’7” (age 15), 6’2” (adult)

Weight: 11st

Eyes: russet brown, sparkling, often bright and happy.

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): Dark skin, but closer to his mother’s lighter shade than his father’s

Hair Colour/ Style: Mahogany brown. Ordered messy, like he had spent several minutes gliding his fingers through his hair, methodically spiking it up, then brushing it forward, leaving bits sticking up. Every portion of his hair was cut to a similar length, apart from the front, which was slightly longer, dropping lightly in front of his right eye

Dress sense: Martin’s dress sense is often describes a grungy by his friends. He wears loose fitted tshirts, slim fit, dark coloured jeans, with bright coloured trainers. Depending on the weather, he switches between wearing button ups over his tshirts, zip up hoodies, and pull over hoodies and jumpers. His hoodies are all oversized and baggy.

He has been described by his teachers as ‘looking for trouble’, as his crooked smile makes him look like he is planning something. Really, he is thinking about something funny.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): sciences, art

Best Class(es): music, English

Sport(s): gymnastics (likes free-running and parkour)

Club(s): band, debate club

Status: disruptive one in class, but means well

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, face claim, theme song, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: mountain tops, his paternal grandparents’ living room

Hobbies: music, making videos, anything to do with social justice

Past events: a few generations before, Martin’s ancestor “Andrew Williams” and Ginn’s ancestor “Hailey Ranger” were friends in the Army. Ginn and Martin bond over this. Martin was excluded for two weeks after he punched the PE teacher for discriminating against him.

General Information -

Name: Alex Peterson

Gender: Male

Nickname(s): Domer

Date of Birth: 14th November, 2001

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Ethnicity: English

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Bisexual

Family:

The Peterson family is descended from people who were more than able to get themselves into The Dome after the Nuclear War. They are a rich family, living in the rich city centre of London. Zack Peterson inherited his business from his father, like his father did before him. They are a well respected family in society, so image is everything to them, however, they still remain pleasant and kind people.

Father: Zack Peterson is the owner of a massive world-wide magazine, Wonder. He inherited it from his father, like his father before him, and he is obsessed with keeping his social image pristine and perfect, so he tries his best to make good connections and do good things. He loves writing, both fact and fiction, but is useless when it comes to DIY and housework. He has a Masters Degree in English, and a Bachelors in both English and Business. He has short blond hair, and vibrant blue eyes. He tends to wear suits, even when he is not working.

Mother: Sarah Peterson is a psychologist with a particular interest in child development and how trauma affects a young person. She is supportive and maternal, but is also image driven, so hides problems. She has long blonde hair, neatly cut down to her mid-back, that she usually keeps up in a braid or bun, and light blue eyes. She has a very feminine style, never wearing trousers.

Other family (s): Grandparents, paternal uncle, maternal aunt, cousins

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s): Churchill’s Private Secondary school, Parliament (adult)

Occupation(s): Politician

Appearance -

Height: 5’9” (age 15), 6’2 (adult)

Weight: 10st

Eyes: Cornflower blue

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): pale but healthy. As an adult, he would have bags under his eyes a lot.

Hair Colour/ Style: light blond. Shaved sides and back, with a classic side parting, favouring the right

Dress sense: Alex likes to wear button up shirts with jeans, trainers or canvas shoes, with smart casual jackets.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): Biology, physics, maths

Best Class(es): ICT, History

Sport(s): Rounders

Club(s): Photography, rounders team

Status: nerdy jock

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: Gardens and parks, his bedroom, the lounge in the Peterson home

Hobbies: photography, editing, photoshop

General Information -

Name: Louise Mitchel

Gender: Female

Nickname(s): Lou,

Date of Birth: 2th April 2002

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: British

Species: human

Sexuality: Bisexual

Family: Louise is the eldest child of three in the Mitchel family, with twin brothers, who are 6 years younger than her. Her parents married as they are secretly gay, and they think they hide it from their children and friends, but fail terribly, as they fool no one. Still, they refuse to break up until their incredibly religious parents die.

Father: Parker Mitchel is a lawyer. He is secretly gay, and often stays out late hooking up with men. Laila honestly could not care less.

Mother: Laila Mitchel is a speech therapist. She develops strong crushes on women very quickly due to her repressed sexuality. Mary Ranger is a particular weakness for her.

Other family (s): Jacob (younger brother), Thomas (younger brother)

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s):

Occupation(s): Psychologist and counsellor

Appearance -

Height: 5’5”

Weight: 9st

Eyes: Sky blue

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): Pale and pristine

Hair Colour/ Style: Light brown. Long (mid way down back), often kept up in a loose braid.

Dress sense: Louise likes to dress very feminine, wearing short skirts and neat blouses. She is classy, yet hot.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): history, art

Best Class(es): Psychology, English

Sport(s): N/A

Club(s): N/A

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: her bedroom, libraries

Hobbies: sewing, makeup, dance

 General Information -

Name: Elsie Brown

Gender: Female

Nickname(s): El, Els, 

Date of Birth: 6th March 2002

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: British

Species: human

Sexuality: Straight

Family: her parents bonded over their similar names.

Father: Daniel Brown is a botanist specialising in fruit/veg baring plants to make them more efficient in harvest.

Mother: Danielle ‘Dani’ Brown is a marine biologist professor at the University of London. 

Other family (s): Jasmine (younger sister), Robert (older brother)

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s):

Occupation(s): Primary school teacher

Appearance -

Height: 5’4”

Weight: 8st 8lb

Eyes: forest green

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): pale, but slight tan. Darker than the other girls

Hair Color/ Style: strawberry blonde. Long and wavy. Barely ever kept up. Has a thick fringe swept to the left side.

Dress sense: Elsie likes to dress more conservatively than Louise, but still very feminine. She wears skirts down to the knee, with tights and simple dolly shoes.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): Art, music

Best Class(es): Maths, English

Sport(s): N/A

Club(s): N/A

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, face claim, theme song, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favourite place: anywhere she can see water

Hobbies: making cloths, dancing

 General Information -

Name: George Groden

Gender: Male

Nickname(s): N/A

Date of Birth: 10th September 2001

Astrological/ Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Ethnicity: white

Nationality: British

Species: Human

Sexuality: Straight

Family: the richest family in the group.

Father: Grant Groden is a doctor and medical researcher in a private hospital. He is rather pretentious and class based, so has a slightly low view on the Rangers, but eventually he’ll get used to them

Mother: Molly Groden is a high class Interior Designer.

Other family (s): Diana (Older sister)

Affiliation(s)/ Organization(s):

Occupation(s): Doctor and Medical researcher

Appearance –

Height: 5’11” (15), 6’0” (Adult)

Weight: 11st 5lb

Eyes: Dark forest green

Complexion (skin tone/ conditions): more tanned skin than Elsie, but still not dark

Hair Colour/ Style: light honey brown hair, neatly combed and cut short, with a fringe

Dress sense: George likes to dress simple yet formal. he often wears woollen vests over button up shirts, and dress trousers.

School Information -

Worst Class(es): history, English

Best Class(es): all sciences, maths

Sport(s): N/A

Club(s): N/A

Status: stook up nerd publicly, but more relaxed with his friends

Trivia -

(Random facts about them, future job, etc.)

Random Facts:

Favorite place: Library, sitting under a tree with a book, museums

Hobbies: drawing, writing, reading

[magewriter]

Understanding

Understanding

Kalex Week Day Four: Marriage Tropes

Wednesday, 11/20 - Supertrope - Marriage - Marriage tropes! Fake married, arranged married, accidentally married, betrothal, etc.

I own nothing. So…I went with another AU for this one. I’m not entirely happy with it and will probably eventually revisit this in order to continue it.

Words: 4,198

*&^*&^

Alex sighed, closing her book and taking off her headphones. Her parents were still at it, discussing what to do with her new ‘sister’. The alien girl that had yet to leave the room across the hall for more than meal times. The same girl who spoke very little English and seemed terrified of her own shadow.

She could hear her cry at night, although neither of her parents had appeared to be aware of it. Alex was used to this, since she knew from experience that her parents could sleep through practically anything. Alex was a light sleeper, like her grandmother.

Scowling down the staircase, Alex had to wonder if they realized how much sound carried upstairs from the living room and kitchen. If Alex could hear them, then Kara with her super hearing could as well. Better, actually, when Alex thought of it.

Sending a dark look at the closed door guarding the younger girl, Alex returned to her room and began gathering supplies. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the new girl that had invaded her family and clearly did not want to be here. Not that Alex could blame her for that. Alex didn’t always want to be here either.

Looking over the pile, Alex nodded to herself. Talking was all well and good, but sometimes action was better. She was fairly certain action was always better. It certainly got more done than talking a subject to death did.

Creaking open the door (they would need to replace it at some point, Kara’s uncontrolled strength having cracked the door and frame several times), Alex slipped into the dark room. Searching the space as her eyes adjusted, the thirteen year-old felt her heart break.

Kara was curled up in the corner furthest from the door. Her hands were over her ears and her eyes were squeezed shut. She was once more dressed in the same odd white clothing that she had arrived in, the tattered remains of the outfit she had worn to breakfast scattered beside the bed. Things were broken and torn all over the room, testament to Kara’s abilities.

New abilities, Alex reminded herself. With that, Alex began approaching the smaller girl. Kara looked up at her and Alex stopped. No one had ever looked scared of her before, but she didn’t know what else to call the look in tear filled blue eyes.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Kara blinked at her. “Hello,” she said slowly, “Al-Ex.”

“Alex,” Alex corrected at the odd pronunciation of her name. At least she was no longer using Alexandra.

“Alex,” Kara repeated slowly, nose scrunched up in concentration. She shifted more into the corner, winching when she felt the material crumble from the movement.

She hated this. Not the Danvers, but the situation. None of them understood exactly what Kal-El had done, and he was too busy ignoring her to learn his mistake or assist her in rectifying it. Kara doubted he would want to, as human as he was.

He had taken everything but the clothing she wore to his Fortress. All the things she could have used to assist her in adjusting to this planet were now hidden away from her. She was prohibited from using powers she didn’t understand, much less know how to control.

Like his, her parents had planned for the changes that would occur. Unlike his, hers had planned for her to raise him and hide both of them should the need arise. No one had planned for her to go off course, but then she doubted they would have expected Kal-El to abandon her to strangers.

Kara almost wished she was back in the Phantom Zone. At least there she was no one’s inconvenience. She was not betrothed to a girl who had no understanding of just what that meant. Kara was pretty certain Alex disliked her, either as a ‘sister’ or future spouse.

She did not have the language needed to explain all of this. The older Danvers were trying, but they lacked the same understanding as Kal. They were all focused on her adjusting to Earth and being human. None of them had stopped to consider that she had just lost her family and the world she knew as home. They all appeared to be under the impression that she should be ‘over it’ already.

Alex broke their staring contest, moving to sit beside her. “Can you at least understand what I’m saying?” She asked bluntly.

“Zhi,” she winched, “yes,” she repeated the affirmative in English. Understanding the language was the simple part, trying to use it to express herself was proving more difficult.

“Okay,” Alex nodded to herself. “This is how this is going to work. You are going to teach me Kryptonese, and I’ll help you with your spoken English.”

Kara nodded. It would help and she owed the girl that much. Perhaps eventually she could explain what Kal had done.

“While that happens, we’re going to work on your powers.”

“I am not to use them,” she repeated the phase she had heard far too many times to count.

Alex scoffed. Adults. “Then how are you going to learn to control them?” She took Kara’s silence as agreement. “We’re starting with hearing and strength. And once we figure it out, you’re taking me flying. Got it?”

“Got it,” Kara nodded, feeling a smile form on her face for the first time in days. Flying was easy, and she would be very careful with Alex.

“Good,” Alex pulled out a fresh notebook. “So first thing, alphabet.”

Several weeks went by like that. Using basic skills most people learned in preschool and kindergarten, Alex helped Kara control her strength. She found sounds for Kara to focus on when things began to be too loud. Kara taught her the basics of Kryptonese, both the simplified alphabet and key words. Alex made a game of it, exchanging word for word around the house and figuring out terminology when there simply wasn’t a translation available.

Kara was much faster with English, although she still spoke formally instead of with the vernacular of a thirteen year old. Once she had enough words, she lamented the loss of her pod and what it contained to Alex in the dark of the night.

“We could try to ask for it,” Alex suggested quietly. She had discovered that Kara was tactile to the extreme, so it was no longer odd for her to have the smaller girl curled in bed with her. It meant that Alex was not yanked from slumber to Kara’s night terrors, plus she was never cold.

“I doubt they would allow us to have it. Kal-El desires me to forget, to be human.” Kara had tried before, argued that it belonged to her. Would it really harm anyone if she was allowed those small pieces of home?

Alex snorted. She was beginning to like, possibly even love, the odd girl. She was not, in anyway, the least bit human. Why should Kara have to forget anything? Alex equated it to being told to forget her Nana and Papaw after they had passed away. How could she forget the man who had first taken her surfing, or the woman who made her favorite blanket for chilly nights?

She was well aware it was not the same, but she had nothing else to compare it to.

“So we don’t ask permission.” She wondered if she had the right clothing for a trip to the Artic. “You fly us there and we steal it back.”

“I do not believe I can carry you and my pod.” Perhaps if Alex was inside? Kara didn’t think so, not when she would need to fly high enough to remain unseen.

“So we take the big back pack,” Alex replied, “and we fill it with the important bits to bring back here. That I know you can do.”

Kara nodded. “Yes, but it would take time. More than a single night.”

“You have a point,” Alex mulled it over. “I have an idea, but it means waiting. We’ll need to be really convincing in order to pull it off.”

“Okay.” Kara trusted Alex. Kal-El may have made many mistakes, but this one might actually become something Kara was no longer angry about. She hoped that Alex would be understanding and accepting of it.

“Okay,” Alex hoped this worked out. If not, they would be grounded until college. Well, she would be at least. “I need to make a phone call, but this will work.”

A single phone call later and her Grandma Mason (Eliza’s mother) was a firm ally. Alex hadn’t even really had to try to convince the woman to begin asking for the girls to visit. The eccentric woman was always up for trouble, a trait she shared with her granddaughter.

Not that Eliza had much room for complaint. She had agreed to take in an alien child using faked documents to make it look legal. She also managed to use the ‘sister’ title as if she actually believed it.

Emily Mason took exactly three months to arrange for the two girls to spend two weeks in Indiana in June on the family farm. Eliza and Jerimiah were fine with it, although both gave the same lecture on keeping Kara’s origins a secret. The ‘no powers’ rule was to be strictly enforced, and they left it on Alex’s shoulders to ensure it happened.

Dutifully, fingers crossed behind her back, Alex promised to take care of Kara and keep the secret. Kara did the same, although she still did not fully understand why crossed fingers negated a promise.

It took all of an hour once the elder Danvers were gone for Emily to turn to the girls and ask them what the plan was.

“Kara’s an alien and we’re going to get her stuff back.” Alex answered.

“And that’s the reason for all the missed family gatherings then,” she nodded. It made much more sense than the excuse her daughter had been using. “Well, come along and fill me in. I have fresh gingerbread and tea. Kara dear, how to you like yours made? Sugar or honey?”

“Honey, please!” Kara’s eyes were bright at the thought of two of her favorite things on this planet. Krypton had not had bees. She wasn’t entirely certain what went into gingerbread, but the spiced sweet reminded her of her aunt and the candies she would return with from her travels.

Alex grinned, following the two inside. Grandma was the perfect ally.

Emily listened as the two teens told her Kara’s story. Her heart went out to the girl. Her own grandparents had been Holocaust survivors and she had grown up with their stories of the camps and the war and the aftermath. To have lost everything and not truly been given the time to deal with the trauma, it was hard enough on an adult.

“The old field outback is well hidden,” she told them after a few minutes of silence. “You should have no trouble practicing out there. The barn is old, but still perfectly sound. There are plenty of things around here where we can work on things, and hide others.” She studied them a bit. “How certain are you that your pod is at the Fortress?”

“Where else would he have taken it?” Alex asked. “He wouldn’t have…” she trailed off. Clark wouldn’t have destroyed it, would he? He had been cruel enough to leave a distraught, traumatized twelve year old on her parents’ doorstep.

“It is there.” Kara said. “He took it and myself there first, before taking me to the Danvers’. He said it would be there for when I was older.” She didn’t think he would be capable of destroying it. There was a failsafe in the pod to prevent such a thing. Her father had assured her of it, mostly to assuage her worries probably but she trusted him not to lie to her.

“Then it won’t hurt to at least check it out.” She sighed. “That would be something to see. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back. Alex, your grandfather’s old jacket might be a bit big but I think a few extra layers and it’ll fit just fine.” She set her empty mug down. “I want it to be understood that I do not like the thought of you two going that far away without adult supervision, but I think this is something you both have to do.”

“It is,” both girls replied. Kara needed that information to help explain what it was Kal-El had done. Accident, misunderstanding, whatever it was, he had still done it. Considering her foster parents’ constant stressing of the title ‘sister’, she was beginning to suspect they had some inkling of what had happened.

“Alright, but you leave and come back at night. And,” she stressed this, “you do not leave until I am satisfied that you are prepared.”

Not wanting to lose their only ally, they both agreed. Kara thought it was smart. The cold wouldn’t affect her, but Alex would freeze in moments. She did not want to lose her betrothed. Alex was the absolute best thing on this planet. Even better than potstickers.

They were allowed to leave two nights late. Alex was bundled up to the point she was more concerned with heatstroke before they got off the ground than she was of freezing once they were in the Artic. Kara was dressed in a brand new black leotard, blonde hair tucked up in a black beanie. Both of them had new black combat boots, Alex’s a size too big to accommodate the layers of socks on her feet.

Emily was prepared for everything. From the amount of snacks she provided, not even Kara’s appetite fazed her.

“Your grandmother is,” she struggled for a moment to remember the correct wording, “amazing.” She beamed when Alex smiled at her.

“Yea, she really is.” Alex looked around the woods they had stopped in for a break. It was pretty, all pine trees and very different from the beach she had grown up on. “Um…Kara…we need to go.”

“Why? You are still cold.” Despite the layers, her human was still shivering from being so high in the atmosphere going at speeds just under dangerous for humans. She had promised Emily that she would take care of Alex, keep her safe and bring her back in one piece.

“Yea, I can deal with the cold. That, not so much.”

Kara turned to see what Alex was looking at. She knew the animal from the television and books, but it took her a moment to place it. “Oh! A bear! It’s so cute!”

The animal saw them. It growled, rising onto its back legs to tower over them. Soft snuffling sounds came from behind them.

Alex swallowed as two bear cubs appeared. Kara cooed over them.

“No Kara, don’t pet them!”

Kara froze when the mother bear roared. Catching herself, she changed targets to Alex, picking her up and taking them back into the air. The adult bear roared again, but the girls ignored it in favor of locating another clearing. This one without any bears.

“Don’t pet wild animals, ever.” Alex told her firmly. “No matter how cute they are.”

Kara looked down, ashamed. She was invulnerable, but Alex wasn’t. She could have gotten her betrothed hurt, or worse killed. “I am sorry Alex.”

Alex sighed. She pulled Kara into a hug. “I’ll get you a stuffed animal. You can pet those as much as you want.”

Kara’s eyes widened in horror. “Who would stuff an animal? Why?”

“No, no!” Alex shook her head. She no longer had any of her stuffed animals, having long ago abandoned them in favor of science kits and other more interactive amusements. “It’s a kind of toy. I don’t have any, not anymore, but,” she paused. “Find us a town, I’ll show you.”

That was how their quest got sidetracked so Alex could buy Kara her first stuffed animal. It was a floppy puppy with bright orange and green fur. Alex had no idea what kind of dog it was meant to be, but it made Kara smile as she looked it over.

Toy tucked carefully in the bag, they continued on. Alex had absolutely no idea what time even was when they arrived at the Fortress. She knew she was cold and the light was strange. Kara was tired, she knew that as well by the way she had slowed even as they reached an area where it was safe for them to fly lower.

“A giant key, really?” Alex crossed her arms, words muffled by the layers of scarf covering her face.

“Kal-El’s security measure could be much improved.” Kara agreed. It was easy enough to get inside.

It hurt a little, to see this small piece of home. However, it didn’t take her long before she had the Fortress online and warming to safe human temperatures. Scowling at the computer, Kara quickly fixed the settings so that such functions were automatic.

Lights turned on, illuminating the different spaces. Alex was awestruck, absently shedding her outer layers as she tried to take everything in at once. The little robots that appeared speaking Kryptonese took the clothing and began leading them to a room Kara’s presence had apparently unlocked.

“Oh Rao…” Kara felt tears escape her eyes and didn’t try to stop them. Her Uncle had nearly perfectly recreated her room and the view from it. She suspected that one of the kelex units had moved her pod here. It was set against one wall, waiting for her.

“Is that…Kara, is that Krypton?” Alex asked softly. “It’s pretty.”

“It was,” her voice trembled.

Alex listened as Kara began half singing what sounded like a prayer. She remained quiet as Kara’s voice flowed from one prayer to another, eventually choking off. At that point Alex wrapped the girl in a hug, offering what comfort she could.

For some time, they just sat there in the room staring out the ‘window’ at a view that no longer existed. Eventually, Kara stood up and broke the hold.

“I need to show you something. I do not know how to explain it. You need to know.”

Alex, confused, watched as Kara opened her pod and began to take things out of it. Clark had clearly not done anything more than set it down. Kara paused over a few items, wiping away tears as she separated things into two separate piles.

“Here, this is a translator.” Kara held out what looked to be (and were) a combination of contact lenses and tiny earbuds.

Alex hesitated a moment, but took them. Kara had to help her put it on, but they managed it with only temporary discomfort.

“How do I know they’re on?” Nothing looked different.

“Can you understand me?”

“Yea?” Alex looked at her weirdly.

Kara smiled sadly. “They’re working. Can you read this?” She held up a small tablet, sliding a crystal into it before the screen lit up.

“Tales of Firebird,” Alex frowned as the shapes she recognized as Kryptonian rearranged themselves into English. “That is freaking awesome.” Her frown turned into a grin as she began to understand how this worked. Of course an advanced civilization like Krypton had technology akin to something out of science fiction.

Kara’s smile was weak. Yes, she supposed it would be amazing. She took the tablet back and removed the crystal. She picked another, this one a simplified explanation of Kryptonian culture. Inserting it, she skipped to the section concerning the joining of families.

“Please read this.”

Alex took the tablet, eager to learn more. Kara seldom spoke about her life, mostly because all of the adults were so intent on her learning to live on Earth. It had been nearly a year. Kara would be going to school soon instead of studying at home.

She began reading. She paused, moving back to the top of the page to reread it. Then she did it again. And Again. Finally, she looked back up at Kara.

“We’re engaged?” No one had asked her about this! Is this why Kara was so reluctant about certain things?

She rescanned a few phases.

Gift giving. Alex had given Kara any number of things since her arrival. Kara, once they had begun testing out her powers, had taken to giving her small stones she had shaped. The blonde had also gifted her with several sketches, mostly of Alex surfing or fantastical animals.

Food sharing. Kara was often reluctant to try new foods, but she gave anything a try once Alex had tried it or offered it to her. Once Kara knew what her favorites where, she often brought them to Alex when the older girl was slow to get going in the morning or when they were having a lazy day.

A family Elder turning over the person in question to the new House. Clark had done that, insisting in both English and his terrible Kryptonese that the Danvers were adopting Kara. They were to be her new Family, her new House. He had fulfilled the negotiation stipulated in what she was reading.

“Holy shit.” Alex breathed out. “We’re engaged.”

“Yes,” Kara spoke. “We don’t have to be if you don’t wish this. I understand,” she kind of did, more than she had anyway, “kind of, that adoption is different here. Kal-El did not know what he was doing.” She continued to babble, apologies mixed with explanations.

“Kara,” Alex set the tablet aside and went to her alien. “Kara, it’s okay.” She could handle this. “We can be engaged.” She swallowed, determined to see this through. She had been told to take care of Kara. She was just going to do it in a vastly different way than had been intended. “When we’re older,” she covered Kara’s mouth, “when we’re older,” she stressed, “we’ll talk about it again.”

Kara nodded and Alex removed her hand. “So is there a ring to go with this?”

“Ring?” Kara frowned.

“Humans exchange rings when they get married, and one person usually wears an engagement ring.” Alex explained.

“Oh! We exchanged bracelets,” Kara explained. “Plain ones, made by the larger house for the engagement and more ornate ones for the ceremony.” She swallowed. “Marriage was for life. Unless one of a pair died, there was no dissolving the bond. Even then, the remaining partner seldom bonded with another.”

“Right,” Alex could do that. Bracelets would certainly be easier to get away with. She was going to have some fun with this. “Does my being a girl bother you? Is that why you waited?”

Kara looked confused. “I do not understand. On…on Krypton gender is not…was not…it’s a thing that is. Why would it matter?”

Alex had a feeling she would be reading the information on the crystals over and over again. “It doesn’t,” she finally decided on. “So, do we have bracelets?” They were easy to make, she probably had all the supplies needed at home. If not, her grandmother would have them.

“I think I might.” Kara got up and looked through the small pile of items she had set aside. She pulled a small box engraved with the House of El crest. “Here.” She brought it over, opening it to show Alex what was inside.

Two silver bracelets rested inside, both embossed with the same House of El crest that Clark had made so popular the world over. This was sharper, the lines and points less rounded.

“I have a set, and another that were meant to be Kal-El’s.” Kara said. “Betrothal bracelets are often handed down through the generations while the ones used for the formal ceremony are forged through the courtship. These were last used by my parents.”

“You’re awfully calm about this,” Alex commented, hesitantly reaching out for one of the bracelets. She stopped. “Does it matter which one I wear?”

“I always knew my marriage would be arranged once The Matrix chose my match.” She gave Alex a small smile. “I think we would have been matched. I think my family would have liked you a great deal.” She set the box down so she could remove one of the bracelets. “Do you…are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Alex was well aware she could have taken the out. They could work on becoming the sisters her parents wanted them to be. Alex…didn’t want to do that. She held out her left wrist. “I accept your proposal Kara Zor-El.”

“I accept your proposal Alex Danvers.” Kara slid the bracelet onto Alex’s wrist. Alex startled when it reshaped itself to her wrist until it was the perfect fit. Kara’s did the same when Alex repeated the actions.

“We should pack up and get back to Grandma’s.” Alex looked around. “Pity we can’t take this with us. We could have our own clubhouse.”

The trip back was simpler.

There were no bears for starters.

Alex took a great deal of pleasure in informing her parents that they had already arranged her marriage.

[blackkudos]

Stevie Wonder

Stevland Hardaway Morris (né Judkins; born May 13, 1950), known professionally as Stevie Wonder, is an American singer, songwriter, musician and record producer. A prominent figure in popular music, he is one of the most successful songwriters and musicians in the history of music. Through his heavy use of electronic instruments and innovative sounds, Wonder became a pioneer and influence to musicians of various genres including pop, rhythm and blues, soul, funk and rock.

Blind since shortly after his birth, Wonder was a child prodigy known as Little Stevie Wonder, leading him to sign with Motown's Tamla label at the age of 11. In 1963, the single "Fingertips" was a number-one hit on the Billboard Hot 100 when Wonder was aged 13, making him the youngest artist ever to top the chart. Wonder's critical success was at its peak in the 1970s when he started his "classic period" in 1972 with the releases of Music of My Mind and Talking Book, with the latter featuring the number-one hit "Superstition". "Superstition" is one of the most distinctive and famous examples of the sound of the Hohner Clavinet keyboard. With Innervisions (1973), Fulfillingness' First Finale (1974) and Songs in the Key of Life (1976) all winning the Grammy Award for Album of the Year, Wonder became the tied record holder, with Frank Sinatra, for the most Album of the Year wins with three. Wonder is also the only artist to have won the award with three consecutive album releases.

Wonder's "classic period", which is widely considered to have ended in 1977, was noted for his funky keyboard style, personal control of production, and series of songs integrated with one another to make a concept album. In 1979, Wonder made use of the early music sampler Computer Music Melodian through his composition of the soundtrack album Stevie Wonder's Journey Through "The Secret Life of Plants". It was also his first digital recording, and one of the earliest popular albums to use the technology, which Wonder used for all subsequent recordings. Wonder's 1970s albums are regarded as very influential; the Rolling Stone Record Guide (1983) wrote they "pioneered stylistic approaches that helped to determine the shape of pop music for the next decade".

Wonder has sold over 100 million records worldwide, making him one of the best-selling music artists of all time. He has won 25 Grammy Awards, making him one of the most awarded artists of all time. He was the first Motown artist and second African-American musician to win an Academy Award for Best Original Song, for the 1984 film The Woman in Red. Wonder has been inducted into the Rhythm and Blues Music Hall of Fame, Rock and Rock Hall of Fame and Songwriters Hall of Fame, and has received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Wonder is also noted for his work as an activist for political causes, including his 1980 campaign to make Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday a holiday in the United States. In 2009, he was named a United Nations Messenger of Peace.

Early life

Wonder was born Stevland Hardaway Judkins in Saginaw, Michigan, on May 13, 1950, the third of six children born to Calvin Judkins and songwriter Lula Mae Hardaway. He was born six weeks premature which, along with the oxygen-rich atmosphere in the hospital incubator, resulted in retinopathy of prematurity, a condition in which the growth of the eyes is aborted and causes the retinas to detach, so he became blind.

When Wonder was four, his mother divorced his father and moved with her children to Detroit, Michigan, where Wonder sang as a child in a choir at the Whitestone Baptist Church. She changed her name back to Lula Hardaway and later changed her son's surname to Morris, partly because of relatives. Wonder has retained Morris as his legal surname. He began playing instruments at an early age, including piano, harmonica, and drums. He formed a singing partnership with a friend; calling themselves Stevie and John, they played on street corners and occasionally at parties and dances.

As a child, Wonder attended Fitzgerald Elementary School. After his first album was released, he enrolled in Michigan School for the Blind.

Career

1961–1969: Sixties singles

In 1961, when aged 11, Wonder sang his own composition, "Lonely Boy", to Ronnie White of the Miracles; White then took Wonder and his mother to an audition at Motown, where CEO Berry Gordy signed Wonder to Motown's Tamla label. Before signing, producer Clarence Paul gave him the name Little Stevie Wonder. Because of Wonder's age, the label drew up a rolling five-year contract in which royalties would be held in trust until Wonder was 21. He and his mother would be paid a weekly stipend to cover their expenses: Wonder received $2.50 (equivalent to $21.39 in 2019) per week, and a private tutor was provided for when Wonder was on tour.

Wonder was put in the care of producer and songwriter Clarence Paul, and for a year they worked together on two albums. Tribute to Uncle Ray was recorded first, when Wonder was still 11 years old. Mainly covers of Ray Charles's songs, the album included a Wonder and Paul composition, "Sunset". The Jazz Soul of Little Stevie was recorded next, an instrumental album consisting mainly of Paul's compositions, two of which, "Wondering" and "Session Number 112", were co-written with Wonder. Feeling Wonder was now ready, a song, "Mother Thank You", was recorded for release as a single, but then pulled and replaced by the Berry Gordy song "I Call It Pretty Music, But the Old People Call It the Blues" as his début single; released summer 1962, it almost broke into the Billboard 100, spending one week of August at 101. Two follow-up singles, "Little Water Boy" and "Contract on Love", both had no success, and the two albums, released in reverse order of recording—The Jazz Soul of Little Stevie in September 1962 and Tribute to Uncle Ray in October 1962—also met with little success.

At the end of 1962, when Wonder was 12 years old, he joined the Motortown Revue, touring the "Chitlin' Circuit" of theatres across America that accepted black artists. At the Regal Theater, Chicago, his 20-minute performance was recorded and released in May 1963 as the album Recorded Live: The 12 Year Old Genius. A single, "Fingertips", from the album was also released in May, and became a major hit. The song, featuring a confident and enthusiastic Wonder returning for a spontaneous encore that catches out the replacement bass player, who is heard to call out "What key? What key?", was a No. 1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100 when Wonder was aged 13, making him the youngest artist ever to top the chart. The single was simultaneously No. 1 on the R&B chart, the first time that had occurred. His next few recordings, however, were not successful; his voice was changing as he got older, and some Motown executives were considering cancelling his recording contract. During 1964, Wonder appeared in two films as himself, Muscle Beach Party and Bikini Beach, but these were not successful either. Sylvia Moy persuaded label owner Berry Gordy to give Wonder another chance.

Dropping the "Little" from his name, Moy and Wonder worked together to create the hit "Uptight (Everything's Alright)", and Wonder went on to have a number of other hits during the mid-1960s, including "With a Child's Heart", and "Blowin' in the Wind", a Bob Dylan cover, co-sung by his mentor, producer Clarence Paul. He also began to work in the Motown songwriting department, composing songs both for himself and his label mates, including "The Tears of a Clown", a No. 1 hit for Smokey Robinson and the Miracles (it was first released in 1967, mostly unnoticed as the last track of their Make It Happen LP, but eventually became a major success when re-released as a single in 1970, which prompted Robinson to reconsider his intention of leaving the group).

In 1968 he recorded an album of instrumental soul/jazz tracks, mostly harmonica solos, under the title Eivets Rednow, which is "Stevie Wonder" spelled backward. The album failed to get much attention, and its only single, a cover of "Alfie", only reached number 66 on the U.S. Pop charts and number 11 on the US Adult Contemporary charts. Nonetheless, he managed to score several hits between 1968 and 1970 such as "I Was Made to Love Her", "For Once in My Life" and "Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours". A number of Wonder's early hits, including "My Cherie Amour", "I Was Made to Love Her", and "Uptight (Everything's Alright)", were co-written with Henry Cosby. The hit single "Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours" was his first-ever self-produced song.

In 1969 Stevie Wonder participated in the Sanremo Music Festival with the song "Se tu ragazza mia", in conjunction with Gabriella Ferri. Between 1967 and 1970 he recorded four 45 rpm and an Italian LP.

1970–1979: Seventies albums and classic period

In September 1970, at the age of 20, Wonder married Syreeta Wright, a songwriter and former Motown secretary. Wright and Wonder worked together on the next album, Where I'm Coming From (1971), Wonder writing the music, and Wright helping with the lyrics. Around this time, Wonder became interested in utilizing synthesizers after hearing albums by electronic group Tonto's Expanding Head Band. Wonder and Wright wanted to "touch on the social problems of the world", and for the lyrics "to mean something". The album was released at around the same time as Marvin Gaye's What's Going On. As both albums had similar ambitions and themes, they have been compared; in a contemporaneous review by Vince Aletti in Rolling Stone, Gaye's was seen as successful, while Wonder's was seen as failing due to "self-indulgent and cluttered" production, "undistinguished" and "pretentious" lyrics, and an overall lack of unity and flow. Also in 1970, Wonder co-wrote, and played numerous instruments on the hit "It's a Shame" for fellow Motown act the Spinners. His contribution was meant to be a showcase of his talent and thus a weapon in his ongoing negotiations with Gordy about creative autonomy. Reaching his 21st birthday on May 13, 1971, he allowed his Motown contract to expire.

During this period, Wonder independently recorded two albums and signed a new contract with Motown Records. The 120-page contract was a precedent at Motown and gave Wonder a much higher royalty rate. Wonder returned to Motown in March 1972 with Music of My Mind. Unlike most previous albums on Motown, which usually consisted of a collection of singles, B-sides and covers, Music of My Mind was a full-length artistic statement with songs flowing together thematically. Wonder's lyrics dealt with social, political, and mystical themes as well as standard romantic ones, while musically he began exploring overdubbing and recording most of the instrumental parts himself. Music of My Mind marked the beginning of a long collaboration with Tonto's Expanding Head Band (Robert Margouleff and Malcolm Cecil).

Released in late 1972, Talking Book featured the No. 1 hit "Superstition", which is one of the most distinctive and famous examples of the sound of the Hohner Clavinet keyboard. Talking Book also featured "You Are the Sunshine of My Life", which also peaked at No. 1. During the same time as the album's release, Wonder began touring with the Rolling Stones to alleviate the negative effects from pigeonholing as a result of being an R&B artist in America. Wonder's touring with the Stones was also a factor behind the success of both "Superstition" and "You Are the Sunshine of My Life". Between them, the two songs won three Grammy Awards. On an episode of the children's television show Sesame Street that aired in April 1973, Wonder and his band performed "Superstition", as well as an original called "Sesame Street Song", which demonstrated his abilities with television.

Innervisions, released in 1973, featured "Higher Ground" (No. 4 on the pop charts) as well as the trenchant "Living for the City" (No. 8). Both songs reached No. 1 on the R&B charts. Popular ballads such as "Golden Lady" and "All in Love Is Fair" were also present, in a mixture of moods that nevertheless held together as a unified whole. Innervisions generated three more Grammy Awards, including Album of the Year. The album is ranked No. 23 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. Wonder had become the most influential and acclaimed black musician of the early 1970s.

On August 6, 1973, Wonder was in a serious automobile accident while on tour in North Carolina, when a car in which he was riding hit the back of a truck. This left him in a coma for four days and resulted in a partial loss of his sense of smell and a temporary loss of sense of taste. Despite the setback, Wonder re-appeared for a European tour in early 1974, performing at the Midem convention in Cannes, at the Rainbow Theatre in London, and on the German television show Musikladen. On his return from Europe, he played a sold-out concert at Madison Square Garden in March 1974, highlighting both up-tempo material and long, building improvisations on mid-tempo songs such as "Living for the City". The album Fulfillingness' First Finale appeared in July 1974 and set two hits high on the pop charts: the No. 1 "You Haven't Done Nothin'" and the Top Ten "Boogie on Reggae Woman". The Album of the Year was again one of three Grammys won.

The same year Wonder took part in a Los Angeles jam session that would become known as the bootleg album A Toot and a Snore in '74. He also co-wrote and produced the Syreeta Wright album Stevie Wonder Presents: Syreeta.

On October 4, 1975, Wonder performed at the historic "Wonder Dream Concert" in Kingston, Jamaica, a benefit for the Jamaican Institute for the Blind. In 1975, he played harmonica on two tracks on Billy Preston's album It's My Pleasure.

By 1975, at the age of 25, Wonder had won two consecutive Grammy Awards: in 1974 for Innervisions and in 1975 for Fulfillingness' First Finale. In 1976, when Paul Simon won the Album Of The Year Grammy for his Still Crazy After All These Years, he wryly noted, "I'd like to thank Stevie Wonder, who didn't make an album this year."

The double album-with-extra-EP Songs in the Key of Life was released in September 1976. Sprawling in style, unlimited in ambition, and sometimes lyrically difficult to fathom, the album was hard for some listeners to assimilate, yet is regarded by many as Wonder's crowning achievement and one of the most recognizable and accomplished albums in pop music history. The album became the first by an American artist to debut straight at No. 1 in the Billboard charts, where it stood for 14 non-consecutive weeks. Two tracks became No. 1 Pop/R&B hits: "I Wish" and "Sir Duke". The baby-celebratory "Isn't She Lovely?" was written about his newborn daughter Aisha, while songs such as "Love's in Need of Love Today" and "Village Ghetto Land" reflected a far more pensive mood. Songs in the Key of Life won Album of the Year and two other Grammys. The album ranks 57th on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

Until 1979's Stevie Wonder's Journey Through "The Secret Life of Plants" his only release was the retrospective three-disc album Looking Back, an anthology of his early Motown period.

1980–1990: Commercial period

The 1980s saw Wonder achieving his biggest hits and highest level of fame; he had increased album sales, charity participation, high-profile collaborations, political impact, and television appearances. The 1979 mainly instrumental soundtrack album Stevie Wonder's Journey Through "The Secret Life of Plants" was composed using an early music sampler, a Computer Music Melodian. It was also his first digital recording, and one of the earliest popular albums to use the technology, which Wonder used for all subsequent recordings. Wonder toured briefly in support of the album, and used a Fairlight CMI sampler on stage. In this year Wonder also wrote and produced the dance hit "Let's Get Serious", performed by Jermaine Jackson and (ranked by Billboard as the No. 1 R&B single of 1980).

Hotter than July (1980) became Wonder's first platinum-selling single album, and its single "Happy Birthday" was a successful vehicle for his campaign to establish Dr. Martin Luther King's birthday as a national holiday. The album also included "Master Blaster (Jammin')", "I Ain't Gonna Stand for It", and the sentimental ballad, "Lately".

In 1982, Wonder released a retrospective of his 1970s work with Stevie Wonder's Original Musiquarium, which included four new songs: the ten-minute funk classic "Do I Do" (which featured Dizzy Gillespie), "That Girl" (one of the year's biggest singles to chart on the R&B side), "Front Line", a narrative about a soldier in the Vietnam War that Wonder wrote and sang in the first person, and "Ribbon in the Sky", one of his many classic compositions. He also gained a No. 1 hit that year in collaboration with Paul McCartney in their paean to racial harmony, "Ebony and Ivory".

In 1983, Wonder performed the song "Stay Gold", the theme to Francis Ford Coppola's film adaptation of S. E. Hinton's novel The Outsiders. Wonder wrote the lyrics. In 1983, he scheduled an album to be entitled People Work, Human Play. The album never surfaced and instead 1984 saw the release of Wonder's soundtrack album for The Woman in Red. The lead single, "I Just Called to Say I Love You", was a No. 1 pop and R&B hit in both the United States and the United Kingdom, where it was placed 13th in the list of best-selling singles in the UK published in 2002. It went on to win an Academy award for best song in 1985. Wonder accepted the award in the name of Nelson Mandela and was subsequently banned from all South African radio by the Government of South Africa. Incidentally, on the occasion of his 35th birthday, Stevie Wonder was honored by the United Nations Special Committee Against Apartheid for his stance against racism in South Africa that same year (1985). The album also featured a guest appearance by Dionne Warwick, singing the duet "It's You" with Stevie and a few songs of her own. Following the success of the album and its lead single, Wonder made an appearance on The Cosby Show, in the episode "A Touch of Wonder" where he demonstrated his ability to sample. The following year's In Square Circle featured the No. 1 pop hit "Part-Time Lover". The album also has a Top 10 Hit with "Go Home." It also featured the ballad "Overjoyed", which was originally written for Journey Through "The Secret Life of Plants", but did not make the album. He performed "Overjoyed" on Saturday Night Live when he was the host. He was also featured in Chaka Khan's cover of Prince's "I Feel For You", alongside Melle Mel, playing his signature harmonica. In roughly the same period he was also featured on harmonica on Eurythmics' single, "There Must Be an Angel (Playing with My Heart)" and Elton John's "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues".

Wonder was in a featured duet with Bruce Springsteen on the all-star charity single for African Famine Relief, "We Are the World", and he was part of another charity single the following year (1986), the AIDS-inspired "That's What Friends Are For". He played harmonica on the album Dreamland Express by John Denver in the song "If Ever", a song Wonder co-wrote with Stephanie Andrews; wrote the track "I Do Love You" for the Beach Boys' 1985 self-titled album; and played harmonica on "Can't Help Lovin' That Man" on The Broadway Album by Barbra Streisand. In 1987, Wonder appeared on Michael Jackson's Bad album, on the duet "Just Good Friends". Michael Jackson also sang a duet with him entitled "Get It" on Wonder's 1987 album Characters. This was a minor hit single, as were "Skeletons" and "You Will Know".

1991–1999: Continued released new material, 1996 Summer Olympics

After 1987's Characters album, Wonder continued to release new material, but at a slower pace. He recorded a soundtrack album for Spike Lee's film Jungle Fever in 1991. From this album, singles and videos were released for "Gotta Have You", "Fun Day" (remix only), "These Three Words" and "Jungle Fever". The B-side to the "Gotta Have You" single was "Feeding Off The Love of the Land", which was played during the end credits of the movie Jungle Fever but was not included on the soundtrack. A piano and vocal version of "Feeding Off The Love of the Land" was also released on the Nobody's Child: Romanian Angel Appeal compilation. Conversation Peace and the live album Natural Wonder were released in the 1990s.

Among his other activities he played harmonica on one track for the 1994 tribute album Kiss My Ass: Classic Kiss Regrooved; sang at the 1996 Summer Olympics closing ceremony; collaborated in 1997 with Babyface on "How Come, How Long", a song about domestic violence that was nominated for a Grammy award; and played harmonica on Sting's 1999 "Brand New Day". In December 1999, Wonder announced that he was interested in pursuing an intraocular retinal prosthesis to partially restore his sight.

2000–present: Later career

Into the 21st century, Wonder contributed two new songs to the soundtrack for Spike Lee's Bamboozled album ("Misrepresented People" and "Some Years Ago"). Wonder continues to record and perform; though mainly occasional appearances and guest performances, he did do two tours, and released one album of new material, 2005's A Time to Love. In June 2006, Wonder made a guest appearance on Busta Rhymes' album The Big Bang, on the track "Been through the Storm". He sings the refrain and plays the piano on the Dr. Dre- and Sha Money XL–produced track. He appeared again on the last track of Snoop Dogg's album Tha Blue Carpet Treatment, "Conversations". The song is a remake of "Have a Talk with God" from Songs in the Key of Life. In 2006, Wonder staged a duet with Andrea Bocelli on the latter's album Amore, offering harmonica and additional vocals on "Canzoni Stonate". Wonder also performed at Washington, D.C.'s 2006 "A Capitol Fourth" celebration. His key appearances include performing at the opening ceremony of the 2002 Winter Paralympics in Salt Lake City, the 2005 Live 8 concert in Philadelphia, the pre-game show for Super Bowl XL in 2006, the Obama Inaugural Celebration in 2009, and the opening ceremony of the 2011 Special Olympics World Summer Games in Athens, Greece.

Wonder's first new album in ten years, A Time to Love, was released in October 2005 to lower sales than previous albums, and lukewarm reviews—most reviewers appearing frustrated at the end of the long delay to get an album that mainly copied the style of Wonder's "classic period" without doing anything new. The first single, "So What the Fuss", was released in April. A second single, "From the Bottom of My Heart", was a hit on adult-contemporary R&B radio. The album also featured a duet with India Arie on the title track "A Time to Love". By June 2008, Wonder was working on two projects simultaneously: a new album called The Gospel Inspired By Lula, which will deal with the various spiritual and cultural crises facing the world, and Through The Eyes Of Wonder, an album he has described as a performance piece that will reflect his experience as a blind man. Wonder was also keeping the door open for a collaboration with Tony Bennett and Quincy Jones concerning a rumored jazz album. If Wonder were to join forces with Bennett, it would not be for the first time; their rendition of "For Once in My Life" earned them a Grammy for best pop collaboration with vocals in 2006. Wonder's harmonica playing can be heard on the 2009 Grammy-nominated "Never Give You Up", featuring CJ Hilton and Raphael Saadiq.

Wonder did a 13-date tour of North America in 2007, starting in San Diego on August 23; this was his first U.S. tour in more than 10 years. On September 8, 2008, he started the European leg of his Wonder Summer's Night Tour, the first time he had toured Europe in over a decade. His opening show was at the National Indoor Arena in Birmingham in the English Midlands. During the tour, he played eight UK gigs; four at the O2 Arena in London (filmed in HD and subsequently released as a live-in-concert release on DVD and Blu-Ray, Live At Last), two in Birmingham and two at the M.E.N. Arena in Manchester. Wonder's other stops in the tour's European leg also found him performing in the Netherlands (Rotterdam), Sweden (Stockholm), Germany (Cologne, Mannheim and Munich), Norway (Hamar), France (Paris), Italy (Milan) and Denmark (Aalborg). Wonder also toured Australia (Perth, Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane) and New Zealand (Christchurch, Auckland and New Plymouth) in October and November. His 2010 tour included a two-hour set at the Bonnaroo Music Festival in Manchester, Tennessee, a stop at London's "Hard Rock Calling" in Hyde Park, and appearances at England's Glastonbury Festival, Rotterdam's North Sea Jazz Festival, and a concert in Bergen, Norway, and a concert in Dublin, Ireland, at the O2 Arena on June 24.

He sang at the Michael Jackson memorial service in 2009, at Etta James' funeral, in 2012, and a month later at Whitney Houston's memorial service.

Wonder appeared on singer Celine Dion's studio album Loved Me Back to Life performing a cover of his 1985 song "Overjoyed". The album was released in October 2013. He was also featured on two tracks on Mark Ronson's album Uptown Special.

In 2013, Wonder revealed that he had been recording new material for two albums, When the World Began and Ten Billion Hearts, in collaboration with producer David Foster, to be released in 2014. The albums have not been released yet.

Legacy

A prominent figure in popular music during the latter half of the 20th century, Wonder has recorded more than 30 U.S. top ten hits and won 25 Grammy Awards (the most ever won by a solo artist) as well as a Lifetime Achievement Award. He has also won an Academy Award for Best Song, and been inducted into both the Rock and Roll and Songwriters halls of fame. He has also been awarded the Polar Music Prize. American music magazine Rolling Stone named him the ninth greatest singer of all time. In June 2009 he became the fourth artist to receive the Montreal Jazz Festival Spirit Award.

He has had ten U.S. number-one hits on the pop charts as well as 20 R&B number one hits, and has sold over 100 million records, 19.5 million of which are albums; he is one of the top 60 best-selling music artists with combined sales of singles and albums. Wonder has recorded several critically acclaimed albums and hit singles, and writes and produces songs for many of his label mates and outside artists as well. Wonder plays the piano, synthesizer, harmonica, congas, drums, bongos, organ, melodica and Clavinet. In his childhood, he was best known for his harmonica work, but today he is better known for his keyboard skills and vocal ability. Wonder was the first Motown artist and second African-American musician to win an Academy Award for Best Original Song, which he won for his 1984 hit single "I Just Called to Say I Love You" from the movie The Woman in Red.

Wonder's "classic period" is generally agreed to be between 1972 and 1977. Some observers see in 1971's Where I'm Coming From certain indications of the beginning of the classic period, such as its new funky keyboard style which Wonder used throughout the classic period. Some determine Wonder's first "classic" album to be 1972's Music of My Mind, on which he attained personal control of production, and on which he programmed a series of songs integrated with one another to make a concept album. Others skip over early 1972 and determine the beginning of the classic period to be Talking Book in late 1972, the album in which Wonder "hit his stride".

His classic 1970s albums were considered very influential in the music world: the 1983 Rolling Stone Record Guide said they "pioneered stylistic approaches that helped to determine the shape of pop music for the next decade"; Rolling Stone's 2003 list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time included four of the five albums, with three in the top 90; and in 2005, Kanye West said of his own work, "I'm not trying to compete with what's out there now. I'm really trying to compete with Innervisions and Songs in the Key of Life. It sounds musically blasphemous to say something like that, but why not set that as your bar?"

Personal life

Marriages

Wonder has been married three times. He was married to Motown singer-songwriter and frequent collaborator Syreeta Wright from 1970 until their amicable divorce in 1972. From 2001 until 2012 he was married to fashion designer Kai Millard. In October 2009, Wonder and Millard separated; Wonder filed for divorce in August 2012. In 2017 he married Tomeeka Bracy.

Children

Wonder has nine children by five different women. The mother of Wonder's first child is Yolanda Simmons, whom Wonder met when she applied for a job as secretary for his publishing company. Simmons gave birth to Wonder's daughter Aisha Morris on February 2, 1975. After Aisha was born, Wonder said "she was the one thing that I needed in my life and in my music for a long time". Aisha was the inspiration for Wonder's hit single "Isn't She Lovely?" She is now a singer who has toured with her father and accompanied him on recordings, including his 2005 album A Time to Love. Wonder and Simmons also had a son, Keita, in 1977.

In 1983, Wonder had a son named Mumtaz Morris with Melody McCulley. Wonder also has a daughter, Sophia, and a son, Kwame, with a woman whose identity has not been publicly disclosed. Wonder has two sons with second wife Kai Millard Morris; the elder is named Kailand and he occasionally performs as a drummer on stage with his father. The younger son, Mandla Kadjay Carl Stevland Morris, was born on May 13, 2005, his father's 55th birthday.

Wonder's ninth child, his second with Tomeeka Robyn Bracy, was born in December 2014, amid rumors that he would be the father to triplets. This turned out not to be the case, and the couple's new daughter was given the name Nia, meaning "purpose"–one of the seven principles of Kwanzaa.The name of Wonder's first child with Bracy is unknown.

Other

In May 2006, Wonder's mother Lula Mae Hardaway died in Los Angeles at the age of 76. During his September 8, 2008, UK concert in Birmingham, he spoke of his decision to begin touring again following his loss: "I want to take all the pain that I feel and celebrate and turn it around."

Wonder was introduced to Transcendental Meditation through his marriage to Syreeta Wright. Consistent with that spiritual vision, Wonder became vegetarian, and later a vegan, singing about it in October 2015 on The Late Late Show with James Corden during the show's "Carpool Karaoke" segment.

Wonder joined Twitter on April 4, 2018, and his first tweet was a five-minute video honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. Dozens of famous personalities were rounded up in the video, which was titled "The Dream Still Lives". Each person involved shared their dream, calling back to King's popular speech in 1963. Wonder's very first tweet took the Internet by storm, and he also encouraged viewers to share their own videos about their dreams with the hashtag #DreamStillLives.

Wonder has been a longtime Baptist affiliated with black churches.

On August 31, 2018, Wonder performed at the funeral of Aretha Franklin at Detroit's Greater Grace Temple. He closed the ceremony with a rendition of the Lord's Prayer and his song "As".

At a concert in London's Hyde Park on July 6, 2019, Wonder announced that he would be undergoing a kidney transplant in September.

Awards and recognition

Grammy Awards

Wonder has won 25 Grammy Awards, as well as a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1996. He is one of only two artists and groups who have won the Grammy for Album of the Year three times as the main credited artist, along with Frank Sinatra. Wonder is the only artist to have won the award with three consecutive album releases.

Other awards and recognition

Wonder has been given a range of awards for his music, and for his civil rights work, including induction into the Songwriters and the Rock and Roll halls of fame; gaining a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Civil Rights Museum, being named one of the United Nations Messengers of Peace, and earning a Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Barack Obama in 2014.

In December 2016, the City of Detroit recognized Wonder's legacy by renaming a portion of his childhood street, Milwaukee Avenue West, between Woodward Avenue and Brush Street, as "Stevie Wonder Avenue". He was also awarded an honorary key to the city, presented by Mayor Mike Duggan.

[therealcalicali]

CHAPTER 7: Vikings - Lillesøster (Little Sister)

Chapter 7 Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Deception, Slight Incest, Intrigue

Word Count:  10,457    

Setting: Viking Era

Genre: Romance/Drama/Epic                  

Pairing: Ragnarssons x Reader, Alfred x Reader, Aethelred x Reader (No details because it would spoil the story)

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  

Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19

Chapter 20 Part A Chapter 20 Part B

_______________________

Though you had heard his order for you to not depart from the gardens, you wanted to get away from Alfred. You were in no mood for his hen-pecking. It was becoming clear that he was too much like his mother. Much like Princess Judith, Alfred had the need to be in control of others to the point of suffocation.

"I asked you to desist from walking away!"

"Alfred, please stop speaking to me as if I have no autonomy." You replied as you stopped momentarily and glared at him. "I am not a servant nor a captive!"

You then turned on your heels again. Needless to say, your betrothed did not like your tone. Not only that, he wasn't done questioning you about your embrace with Sir Lancille. It was one thing for you to have a close relationship with your Attendants, however, he felt you were crossing the line. Basically, Alfred felt that your behavior showed a lack of respect toward him.

"I gave you a command, did I not?" He asked with his tone becoming firmer.

You inhaled deeply, trying your best to remember what you were going through this for. This was not about you in the long run. It was about your family's legacy and your dear Mother's justice. If nothing else was accomplished in your life, justice was the one thing you would attain. As her only child and daughter, it was your duty. So if you had to swallow bitter bile in order to fulfill that goal, you were willing to do so a hundred times over.

Stopping by some large bushes, you waited patiently as Alfred approached. His thick brows were furrowed as he considered you with a stern countenance.

"Y/N, please listen to me. I find no pleasure in speaking harshly to you." He said as he pulled you to him by the waist. His expression quickly softened. "But you are far too reckless. It was entertaining when we were children but we are now adults. Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

When you did not respond, Alfred turned you to face him, his arms still snaked around your waist. You averted your eyes from his gaze, choosing instead to focus on the flowers nearby. 

Confused by your silence, Alfred observed you with a worried expression. Being lost in thought however, you were oblivious to the fact that you had begun trembling like a leaf. The feeling of imprisonment you had described to Lancille was even more present now.

"What is the matter?" The Prince asked with concern as he pulled you tightly against himself. He could feel your trembling become worse, causing him great concern.

Your body felt drained of vitality as you rested against Alfred to keep from fainting. Not from illness, but from sheer anxiety. Truly, you thought you were going to vomit any moment. It was unfair to be in a position that allowed so many people to have so much control over you.

"I am fine." You managed to say.

"You are most certainly, not fine. You are trembling like a leaf."

Despite wanting to get away from Alfred, he truly was the only thing keeping your on your feet. The last time you had felt such an overwhelming sense of dread and physical illness was after your mother's interment. It took nearly a week of bed rest to recover from it that time. You hoped that you wouldn't have to be confined to a bed this time around.

"Is everything alright?" You heard Bjorn ask.

Your eldest brother was walking with Ubbe and Prince Aethelwulf. The three of them looked at you with concern as they arrived where you and Alfred were stood.

"Sister, why are you shaking like that?" Ubbe asked with concern, his eyes studying your expression.

"She was fine only moments ago and then suddenly, she seemed to take ill." Alfred replied.

Alarmed, Bjorn suggested that you forego the Training Grounds and instead return to bed. Despite your attempt to refuse his suggestion, your brothers held firm. Ubbe, to your annoyance, was the most adamant.

"You are not coming and that is final." He said, totally supporting Bjorn's suggestion.

"I think your brothers are right." Prince Aethelwulf added. "We shall have a Healer come to see you shortly. Until then, Alfred will remain with you."

You quickly realized that it was a lost cause. Moreover, any further argument from you would only result in problems for you later. The last thing you wanted was to receive a lecture from Pippa about your decorum. Not only that, you didn't want to disappoint Governess Yasmine. After all, she had been teaching you so much about Royal disposition.

Nodding you your head, you agreed to return to your chamber as everyone suggested. There were many more small battles such as this that you would lose. However, if you were patient, you would win the war in the end.

____________________

"My poor girl. You look absolutely drained." Aslaug said as she took a seat on the bed. The Queen had had been in town giving arms to the poor and had only returned. But being the protective type, she came to your side as soon as she had heard you weren't feeling well. "Can I have the kitchens prepare you anything?"

"Thank you but I am not that hungry actually. I have been drinking that watered down ale however."

Your head felt heavy upon the pillow. Almost as if you would drift off to sleep straightaway. As for Prince Alfred, he sat in a chair by your writing desk reading a letter that had been given to him earlier.

"Y/N, perhaps you should take the Queens offer. You hardly ate anything for first meal according to Pippa." The Prince suggested.

"I agree with him." Aslaug said with a smile. She then touched your forehead and appeared relived. "You are not hot to the touch so that is fortunate."

Turning to one of the two Thralls that had escorted her to your chamber, your stepmother ordered one to go to the kitchens.

"Have them make her some honeyed porridge. And perhaps they should send a pitcher of fresh milk alongside it."

The Thrall nodded and excused herself before leaving. As he finally finished the letter, Alfred glanced in your direction.

"News from home?" Aslaug asked as she studied your betrothed's expression.

"Yes. It appears they are nearly finished making the arrangements for our arrival in a weeks' time. Mother also mentioned she has selected all of the wedding garments."

"We are leaving in a week? But the nuptials are three weeks away!" You asked, sitting up. "Why should we leave so soon?"

Alfred gave you a peculiar look as if your question made no sense.

"Did you expect us to arrive on the day of the wedding? Have you forgotten that it is a four day journey to Wessex? At least in good weather." He reminded you. "Besides, we have formalities to go over with the Archbishop and Pope as well practice sessions."

You rolled your eyes and laid you head back down. The last thing you wanted to think about was the nuptials. It was a great source of anxiety and thus, you pushed it from your mind.

"I for one cannot wait to see you in your formal gown." Aslaug said as she poured herself some ale. "Your father behaves as if he is prepared to see you become a wife but I do not believe him. I dare say he will shed tears."

"I doubt it." You replied - reflecting on how quickly he promised you to Alfred.

He didn't even wait for you to return from court before doing so. What kind of father doesn't see his daughter for six years and yet is so eager to marry her off? Ragnar, that's who. It was something you found quite hurtful and compounded your resentment toward him.

"Your father loves you." Aslaug said reassuringly. "I know that he is hard to understand at times, but believe me when I say that you are the only one that can melt his heart. Your brothers cannot do such a thing."

You scoffed but made certain to let your stepmother know that it was not directed at her. You were just so tired of everyone claiming to care about you, yet forcing you to do things against your will. Patting you on the back of the hand, Aslaug assured you that things would work out.

"You and your father need to spend so time with one another. Preferably, without the boys. Then you will see that I am correct. He adores you."

"I agree." Alfred said, concurring Aslaug's statement.

Of course he agreed. Anything that sounded like orders being given by a Commander always seemed to please him. As you sat up and grabbed your chalice of watered down ale, the Healer was let in by a Thrall.

"So, I hear the King's daughter is not feeling well." The chipper and wispy woman said as she entered. She carried a large bag in her hand that appeared too heavy for her to carry. However, she was doing so with no problem. "Do not worry my Queen, I shall have her feeling better in no time. I dare say I am a better healer than Mathias who everyone is so keen on lately. I doubt that fool knows the difference between a fever and a broken leg."

"Drusilla!" Aslaug said with a laugh. "That is not very nice."

"It may not be kind, but it is certainly the truth. Mathias is an idiot and I would not mind thrashing him if I were younger."

Despite not feeling well, you couldn't help smiling at the old woman's words. She had quite the personality that dwarfed her tiny frame. Frankly, the Healer lit up the room. Of course, Alfred merely looked at her with his typical indifference. He was now stood near the foot of the bed with his hands clasped in front of him, ever serious as usual.

"And who is this handsome lad? The husband?" A cheerful Drusilla asked as she cocked her head in Alfred's direction.

"No, we are not married."

Alfred glared at you as his lips drew into a serious line. He detested how quick you were to distance yourself from him anytime you were asked. Aslaug sipped her ale quickly and shook her horn for more. She may have been a reserved Queen but, she was a very observant one. Your stepmother could read what was going on between the two of you quite easily. Promptly, one of the Thralls rushed and picked up the pitcher of ale while you finally sat up.

"Now then, my pretty girl, tell Drusilla what happened."

"Well, it all began suddenly. One moment, I was totally fine and the next, I felt weak and sick to my stomach." You explained. "I felt like I wanted to vomit, however, I did not truly feel nauseated."

Drusilla looked at you thoughtfully as you spoke while holding your hand. She placed two fingers against the veins that ran along your wrist as she continued listening to you speak. After you had explained everything you had felt while in the garden, the old Healer nodded.

"Very interesting, my dear. Could there be a little one trying to make itself known?" Drusilla asked. "After all, it only takes the one time."

Prince Alfred looked indignant at her question. To insinuate that the two of you had slept together without being wed greatly offended his sensibilities.

"Madam, with all due respect, I do not like the line of questioning." He interjected. "My intended is not with child."

"Forgive me, my Prince. It is typically the first question I ask when ladies have such symptoms."

"Well, that may be true for Heathen women, but the Princess is a Christian." Alfred replied in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. "Please remember that anytime you are treating her.

Giving him her assurance, Drusilla apologized before turning her attention back to you. After asking a few more questions and looking at your tongue, she nodded thoughtfully.

"It appears that you do not have any dire malady. You are in need of some peace and quiet however. Your pulse is weak and irregular which is a sign of high tension." She said, satisfied that you weren't sick. "I will remain for two days and make calming tonics for you."

"You mean I cannot do anything but lay here?"

"That is exactly what I mean."

You sighed but relented. Queen Aslaug stood and stated that she would have a servant show the Healer to a guest-chamber. Excusing herself to take care of duties in the Great Hall, you stepmother promised to see you later on. After everyone had departed, Alfred, being ever the attentive one, sat on the bed.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked, taking your hand.

"Slightly."

Taking your hand to his lips, Alfred kissed your finger before holding your hand against his cheek. He was genuine in his concern regardless of how you may have perceived things. After all, you were his only true friend outside of Aethelred and Aethelwulf. Of course he had "acquaintances" due to his title but he hardly ever spoke around them. He merely listened.

But you were the one person that could actually get the Prince to loosen his tongue. Not to mention that he felt more relaxed around you than even his own mother.

"Promise you will not fall sick on me. I do not wish to go through that again." He said as he stared at you - looking worried.

It was then you finally realized that despite his behavior, Alfred was truly shaken. He had not let on earlier but now, that the two of you were alone, his eyes were full of gloom.

"Of course not. I am being honest when I say that I feel better."

Alfred let go of your hand and lay his head upon your stomach in relief.  Normally, it was you that was at his bedside. The Prince had an odd reoccurring illness that would take hold of him for days, even weeks at a time. At court, you were his constant companion whenever he was bedridden. Those times never frightened Alfred because he felt his life was in the hands of God.

However, the one time that you fell ill was a very scary time for him. The fever was so severe that he was certain you would die. Everyone was. Fortunately, with the expertise of the King's Healers and fervent prayers, you pulled through. It was something the young Prince never wanted to experience again.

As you ran your hand through his dark locks, Alfred exhaled.

"I do not have anyone, Y/N. You are all I have. That is why I often hold on to you a little tighter than I should."

"But you have your mother and-------"

"That is different. You are not tied to me by blood. And you do not expect me to be perfect at all times. I am not myself when you are not near."

Alfred then raised his head to look at your expression. Leaning closer, he only stopped when your noses were touching. Without another word, Alfred buried his face in the crook of your neck, something he did often when he was upset. You went back to running your fingers through his hair.

"I understand." You replied simply.

____________________

You were awakened from your slumber by something brushing against your cheek. As your eyes adjusted to your candlelit chamber, you wondered why you felt so disoriented. That was when you remembered drinking the tonic Drusilla the Healer had made. You recalled that you had been chatting with Alfred before becoming too drowsy to stay awake. 

After tucking you under the covers, he informed you that he was leaving for your father's Training Grounds and left you to rest. Now, it appeared to be evening so you knew you had slept a long time.

"Sister, are you feeling better?" Ivar's voice sounded in your ear.

You rolled onto your back to come face-to-face with your concerned brother. He placed his leather bound hand in yours and frowned.

"Do not think I have forgotten that you did not come to me at the Feast. Why are you avoiding me?"

"I am not avoiding you. I simply did not feel like being thrown out."

"Is that what you assumed I was going to do?" Ivar asked with a chuckle. "I was actually going to entertain your silliness for as long as the others allowed. Personally, I found it brave."

You smiled at his confession as you sat up.

"For the love of God, how long have I been sleeping?" You exclaimed as you looked toward the veranda. "It was early in the afternoon when I closed my eyes."

Ivar laughed at you. He then stated that you had not only slept the entire day away, but you missed practice. You sighed. It was no point even thinking about that for at least a few days. There was no way Ubbe or Bjorn would allow you to attend. As for Hvitserk, he had become worse than any parent for some reason.

And to make certain that you knew that God had a sense of humor, there came a knock upon the door. When Ivar asked who it was, it was none other than Hvitserk. Entering the chamber, your elder brother looked as if he was dressed for a night out. He came to your bedside and felt your forehead.

"Feeling better, sister?"

"Much better. Thank you."

"I hope you get back to yourself soon." Hvitserk said. "I truly want you to see how I am besting Ivar at archery."

"What rubbish! You have done no such thing. One time is hardly "besting" me at anything."

Your brothers pestered each other for a few moments more before Hvitserk announced that he had to meet someone. Ivar rolled his eyes, knowing exactly whom he spoke of. With a kiss to your forehead, your elder brother bid you both goodnight and departed.

"Who is he meeting?" You probed as soon as Hvitserk had gone.

You had a suspicion of who it could be but weren't certain. In fact, you knew all your brothers were entangled with various women, some of them being Thralls in your father's service.

"Why do you wish to know?" Ivar replied as he tapped your chin. "You are too meddlesome for your own good."

"I am not meddlesome. I am merely inquisitive."

Your brother chuckled before leaning closer. He then informed you that he would give you the information for a kiss. Your eyes studied him, feeling guilty now that your recalled kissing him previously. Though you wanted to blame the wine, the truth was, you had not been overly intoxicated. You enjoyed kissing Ivar and it made your heart race. But now, with your proper inhibitions in place, you didn't think you could do it again.

"Fine." You finally replied. However you only kissed his cheek.

Ivar visibly glared at you. He wanted a proper kiss, not the type of kiss one would give their grandmother. Tapping his lips lightly with his finger, he waited patiently for you to get the hint. After trying to change his mind for several minutes, you finally relented. You gave him a soft peck causing him to smile.

"Well, Lady curious. Since you insist on knowing about Hvitty's secret rendezvous, I will tell you." Ivar said. "It just so happens that our brother is meeting Margrethe for, activities."

"Margrethe? The Thrall?"

"She is the only Margrethe I know. Why? Do you know of another one that also lays with all of our brothers?"

Your eyes went wide. Were you truly hearing correctly? One woman bedding several men who happened to be related to one another? Curiosity got the best of you immediately. Margrethe reminded you somewhat of the Duchess everyone gossiped about at court. It had angered you even back then because she was doing no worse than the very men who loathed her.

"Thank you for entertaining my inquisitive mind. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to have my bath now. I shall see you later."

"Can I come and watch?" Ivar mischievously asked - knowing very well it would get a rise out of you.

"Ivar!" You exclaimed, utterly incensed by his request.

You threw the furs off and informed him that he needed to desist from saying such things. Finding your reaction rather amusing, he laughed at your reply. After stretching, you put the cotton robe over your nightdress and began to tie the sash around your waist.

"Are you not going to town like Hvitserk?"

"I do not know yet. Perhaps." He said as he eyed you oddly. "Why? Are you in a rush to get rid of me already?"

"Of course not. I just assumed that all men did things such at night. You know, carousing and all that."

"That is true. However, I do not know if I am in the mood to ride into town. Perhaps I will just stay and allow you to teach me how to be a proper Christian. You can teach me those strange prayers you do and that thing with your hands.

You couldn't help giggling at Ivar words. Of course you knew he was being silly but it was hilarious to even imagine it. After showing him how to do the sign of the cross, your brother scoffed.

"You would be better off worshiping our Gods. They are the only true Gods and what is more, they allow one to be free. Your Mother's God is merely a singular being, yet, he is so demanding."

"Ivar. You cannot say such things." You said as you walked past. "It is a sin to blaspheme the Father."

"The Father?" He scoffed, grabbing your hand as you made you way past. "Y/N, you live in too much fear of being judged. Look at me. I do not care what anyone thinks except for mother." Ivar added as he intertwined his fingers with yours. Staring into your eyes, he gave you a genuine look of admiration. "And you, of course."

Smiling at your brother’s confession, you squeezed his hand in a show of affection. You then gave him a kiss on his forehead before informing him yet again that you wanted to take a bath. Rolling his eyes, Ivar ignored your words and instead, laid across your bed.

"So go and do as you wish. I am not holding your legs."

"You are so………irritating."

"I know but you love me all the same" Ivar replied with a chuckle.

____________________

After you had your bath, you changed into a yellow and white cendal (woven silk) dress. It was beautiful and very ornate with intricate embellishments. Especially around the waistline where the mock corset tied neatly behind you. The bow was light yellow and was one of the reasons you selected it in the first place. As you were walking from your changing quarters into the hallway, you ran into Prince Aethelwulf.

"Good evening, your Highness. How are you doing this evening?" You greeted warmly - immediately giving him a curtsy.

The Thralls walking with you made their way past in order to give privacy. Pleased that your manners had not been affected by the long visit to Heathen lands, the Prince smiled.

"I am doing quite well, my dear." Aethelwulf said with his usual smile. "But I think I should be asking you that question."

"I am actually much better thanks to the Healer."

From his expression, you could see that your future in-law was relieved by your revelation. He then glanced at you with a hint of concern.

"I hate to seem as if I am overly concerned for my son but I am. Alfred was unable to eat this evening. When I asked why, he simply stated that he was very worried about you."

"Really?" You replied as he offered you his arm. Taking the kind gesture, you took hold of Prince Aethelwulf as the two of you began to walk together. "But Healer Drusilla assured him that I was not seriously ill. Where is he now, if I may inquire?"

"I just left him sitting in the courtyard. He said he wanted to enjoy the night air."

"Alone?"

The elder Prince nodded with some exasperation. Like you, he felt that Alfred isolated himself far too much. But what could be done? It was ingrained in his personality and it was best not to force him to change.

"I tried to convince him to come with me and a few of the men headed to town, but he declined. Perhaps you can let him know you are feeling better. If you are so inclined of course."

You agreed immediately. Though you wanted to find Ivar and challenge him to some games, you figured that could wait. After all, despite all of the things that Alfred did to irritate you, he did have a good heart.

___________________

"Alfred, why are you sitting so far away from the torches? It is far too dark over here. Come, let us go over to where it is brighter." You said as you approached. When you arrived by the bench he was sat, you realized your betrothed was in one of his gloomy moods. "Did you hear me?"

"Of course I did." He replied without glancing at you.

However, he said it in such a low tone that you barely heard him. Alfred went on to state that he was fine and that you were free to leave. His head remained down which caused his long hair to shield his face from you. He kept playing with one of the rings upon his fingers until you got tired of waiting for him to follow you. Taking a seat beside him, you brushed his dark locks behind his ear.

"Alfie, please, I am begging you. "You said, doing your best to lift his spirits. The last thing you wanted was for his melancholy to lead to him falling ill. "Do not let overthinking get the best of you."

He swallowed hard knowing you were correct. It was bad enough that he was excessively studious and often needed to be reminded to eat. But his melancholy made his already fragile health considerably worse. It was like setting a flame to a wick. Once that set in, his health always deteriorated until he was practically at death's door.

"You have not called me Alfie in a very long time." He replied in a sad tone. "At any rate, I am fine. You may go and spend time with your family."

"I am not going anywhere." You replied firmly but gently. "Now stop staring at the ground and look at me."

Gradually, he turned to face you. Even in the dimness, you could see that his eyes were welled with tears. Always kindhearted by nature, you couldn't help cupping his face with both hands. Alfred stared at you with sadness as you did so, his full lips pursed together in dejection.

"Please, let us go indoors." You tried to instruct him yet again.

"You truly want me to come with you?"

"Of course I do. Why would I ask if that was not my intention?"

You let go of his face and got to your feet. However, Alfred took you by the wrist and asked you to wait. Shyly, he asked if the two of you could just sit for a time before going indoors. Agreeing, you sat back down beside him.

"Come here." You said as you opened your arms invitingly.

Without hesitation, Alfred moved closer and melted into your embrace. He rested his head on your shoulder as you stroked his back. It was upsetting to watch him go through so much inner turmoil.

Alfred always seemed in control to everyone else but you were privy to how lost he could become. He resided in his own mind and your heart truly broke for him. He had been too mature for the other children and now, he was too intelligent for most adults. The Prince basically ran around being everything Princess Judith wanted him to be.

So-much-so, that he didn't even know who he was anymore. Alfred was more of a marionette doll than a human being at this point.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Alfie?"

"I want you to know that you are the one thing that makes me happy."

There was nothing that needed to be said. You had always known how much he depended on you emotionally. It was apparent to you now that he was quite similar to Ivar. Both were continually at odds with their own thoughts and desires to become a great men.

It was quite ironic actually. Everyone always spoke about how life would change once you became a mother. However, you were practically one already. Ivar and Alfred may have been grown men but they shared one trait. They both looked to you for nurturing and assurance.

_____________________

After sitting outdoors for a short time, you and Alfred went to the Dining Hall to eat together. You spent most of the time watching him to make sure he was truly consuming enough. He was a picky eater so you made certain that the servants put things he liked on the table. You were determined to keep Alfred healthy, for his sanity and your own.

If Judith ever got word that he had taken ill, you knew for certain she would come to Kattegat, despite her dislike of Heathens. And that was the last thing you wanted. You could just imagine her prying into everything and hovering over both you and Alfred like a smirking demon.

"Alfred! Y/N! Good to see you two spending time together." Rollo's voice boomed as he and Ragnar entered. "Any plans for tonight?"

Your Uncle's voice was much like pleasant thunder - always grabbing the attention of anyone who heard it. He and your father both kissed your forehead before taking their seats. You sighed inwardly as Ragnar grinned at you and Alfred. He looked pleased……..a bit too pleased in your opinion.

"I see you are you feeling better." Ragnar commented.

"Yes, father. I am much better."

"Well, I do not know what the Healer gave you but it worked so well. You looked very peaceful when I came to check on you. I sat at your beside for quite some time. It reminded me of when you were a little girl." He confessed. "I wish you slept more."

Though you glared at your father, you were holding back a laugh. As for Alfred, he only smirked to himself as he drank his wine. Your Uncle Rollo of course, didn't hold back. He gave a hearty chuckle and added that it was true of most women.

"Why are you dressed so finely?" You inquired as you surveyed your father's clothing. "Are you taking the Queen out?"

Ragnar studied you, his ever twinkling blue eyes boring into your own. You may have thought you were sly in your questioning but he knew what you were driving at.

"Why do you assume that?"

"Because, she is your wife and you should spend time with her. After all, did you not have an all men's feast the other night?"

"Why ask a question that you already know the answer to? After all, you were there." Your father countered quite sarcastically. "Uninvited, might I add."

Instantly, the air was sucked out of the room. Prince Alfred and Rollo looked between you and your father as the tension rose dramatically. Not one to be shaken by your father's snide remarks, you bit your tongue. Instead of giving him any satisfaction of riling your temper, you straightened in your seat. You then gave a polite smile as you put your pomegranate down on the plate.

"I have had my fill." You said as you wiped your hand with the serviette.

Throwing it onto the table, you stood up and fixed your skirts. With great civility, you turned to Alfred and informed him that he could find you in the Sitting Hall located in the West wing. You then gave your Uncle a kiss on the cheek but walked past Ragnar who eyed you with frustration.

"Where are you off to so suddenly?" Your father asked in a mocking tone.

"You must have heard me as I spoke to Alfred but if I must elaborate, fine. I am meeting Ivar in the Sitting Hall."

"Daughter, if that is so, then why is there no kiss for me as well?"

Your steps stopped at his words. He was testing you as always - seeing how much of a Christian you truly were. Athelstan had taught Ragnar enough about how your God viewed many things. His favorite being about how children were to honor their mothers and fathers.

Turning to face your father with a false smile still plastered upon your face, you walked to over. You gave him a kiss on the cheek to prove that you were above his pettiness. By now, you had come to understand that such things were to be a regular part of your act.

Alfred was relieved that the two of you did not go further for fear of it turning into an argument. Your Uncle Rollo of course was nothing short of tickled. Unlike your betrothed, he was not easily fooled. He could see the veins in your neck and the tense manner in which you held your skirts.

With your poise intact, you departed from the Great Hall, a tad bit prouder of yourself than normal. It wasn't easy to constantly swallow your true feelings, but you were getting better at it. And if feigning civility was the means to your desired end, so be it.

_______________________

"Look who actually kept her promise for once. I was afraid you were going to break my heart again." Ivar said without glancing up from the chess board. He busied himself setting up for a game as you walked over.

"Do you have anything to eat in here?"

You had left the Dining Hall without thinking about how hungry you truly were. You had not even finished your fruits and nuts let alone the main course.

"Do I look like I go around shoving bread into my pockets?" A tickled Ivar replied. "Who do you think I am? Hvitserk?"

"Damn it to hell. I am starved."

"So, go and grab something from the Dining Hall."

"No! Father might still be there."

Ivar finally looked up from the chess board and eyed you. He knew that if you were avoiding someone, you must have a very good reason. After all, you tried your best to get along with everyone.

"What happened?"

"I do not wish----"

"Do not give me that flippant response or you will make me angry." Ivar said, cutting you off mid-sentence. "Come here."

Reluctantly, you walked to him at took a seat. Still studying your expression, your brother again asked you to tell him what had occurred. After taking a deep breath, you told him what had occurred and why you had asked Ragnar such a question in the first place.

"I know that it is not my place, after all, she is your mother. But I cannot help feeling that Queen Aslaug is not herself as she was before I went to court." You elaborated as you played with the fabric of your skirts. "There is a sadness in her eyes that I cannot describe."

Your brother's expression changed instantly as he put down the pawns. He too, apparently, had been thinking the same thing. Looking at you, he confessed that things between Aslaug and Ragnar had become worse over the years.

"You are truly observant, Y/N. I also think that father needs to show far more attention than he does." Ivar added as he took your hand. "Sometimes, I invite mother to the Training Grounds as a way of force them being in the same place. However, she always says that she does not wish to be in the way."

"Actually, that is a great idea. That would be a great way for them to at least bond over something father enjoys." You excitedly said as you perked up. "Shall I invite her then? I do not think she will say 'no' to me. And I can even offer to train her."

Ivar beamed at your words. He treasured his mother and was genuinely moved by your compassion for her.

"Do you know how much I love you?" He asked as he let go of your hand. Ivar then wrapped his arm around you, pulling onto his lap.

"What a silly question. Of course, I do. And I love you as well."

Ivar stared into your eyes as if he was trying to figure out if you truly meant it. Naturally, you found it odd and the intensity of his staring eventually made you feel uncomfortable. Trying to change the subject you decided to bring up a funny story one of your Handmaidens had told you, but Ivar interjected.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"I am not nervous."

"Yes, you are. I can tell by how your voice changed." Ivar scoffed. "And look at how you keep twirling your bracelet. Are you scared that I will kiss you again?"

Your heart raced as if you had been startled. You could feel the saliva in your mouth dry up as you tried to speak.

"Please desist from bringing that up." You whispered as you cautiously looked around.

"No. I shall bring it up as much as I like. You are behaving as if you did not like it. If I recall properly, there were many kisses each better than the first."

Refusing to hear any more about what happened "that night", you stood up. Ivar scowled as he watched you walk to the fireplace. He knew he was right but you were never going to admit it to him. You were far too stubborn to ever do such a thing. At least, for now. But if you thought you could fool him, you were sadly mistaken. Your brother knew you too well, despite your years at court.

"I am begging you to drop that matter entirely. It is wrong………….and sinful."

"If you wish." Ivar replied, his brows creasing with frustration.

Still, he wasn't overly upset with you. 

After all, he knew it must have been overwhelming for someone with your beliefs to accept certain thoughts. Especially, the thought that you had enjoyed being kissed by your own half-brother.

"Come here please. I promise I will not do anything to offend you." Ivar asked in a gentle tone.

You sighed before going to him and sitting back down. With a playful smile he gave you a wink and mouthed something.

"What?" You asked with a brow raised in confusion. "I did not hear anything."

"Come closer."

"No! I am fine where I am."

Pulling your chair by the armrests, Ivar brought you as close as possible causing you to frown. He then leaned in close until his lips touched your ear.

"Do you still want to know what I said?"

"Fine. I am listening." You replied, crossing your arms as if you were bored with the conversation.

However, he didn't say anything. Instead, Ivar playfully bit your ear and then your neck. As you scooted into the backrest, he held the chair steady with both hands, trapping you.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" Ivar asked very innocently. "I barely touched you."

"Liar."

"Brat."

Your brother kissed the length of your neck again, this time open mouthed and sensually.

"Please stop you idiot! I have had enough of you for tonight." You said with a roll of your eyes.

Ivar took his lips from your flesh before laughing at your reply. The two of you were always good at tossing insults to one another and it was no different now. Undeterred, Ivar gave you a kiss on the cheek before placing another one closer to your lips.

"Ivar stop!"

"Ivar, stop before I have to admit I like it." He mimicked with a chuckle.

Having enough of his behavior, you hauled off and punched your brother in the shoulder. It had been long since your aggressive side had shown itself but you didn't care. He was being beyond irritating. Completely undeterred, Ivar grabbed your wrists and gave you a grin that made you even angrier.

"Aw, was that supposed to do something?" He asked. "In case you are unaware, I have an affinity for pain. It is unfortunate that your blows do not hurt in the least."

"I will show you!"

You twisted your wrists and managed to slip out of Ivar's grasp. You then grabbed his wrist with both hands and began twisting the flesh in opposite directions.

"Hey! That hurts you little imp!" Ivar seethed as he yanked his arm of your grasp.

Before long, the two of you were rough playing as you if you were children again. Ivar was fast, but you held your own. For every one of his strikes, you returned it with as much force as you could muster. Eventually, you had to get out of the chair and scurry away. Ivar was holding back his full strength but his hits still hurt.

"Why are you running?" A pleased Ivar asked as he grabbed the fabric of your skirts. "You cannot retreat coward!"

"I am not a coward! I am merely rethinking my tactics."

"You surprise me sister. I did not expect you to retreat like a typical Christian!"

"Let go of my dress, cheater."

"No, it is fair game."

Ivar kept hold of your skirts until you finally conceded that he had won your playful war. Very pleased with himself, he let go of your dress. Your brother then made sure to inform you that you were getting too soft from being around Alfred's people.

"Do not allow them to change who you are. If you do not take care, you will lose yourself to them."

"That will never happen."

Despite your confidence, you brother didn't look like he believed you. He knew very well that you were facing immense pressure and tradition. Not only that, but you were exchanging vows with one of the most pious Christians he had ever met.

"Do you truly think I am becoming soft?" You asked as you sat beside Ivar again.

He smirked as he began arranging the chess pieces again. Your brother stated that you were beginning to behave like a wilting flower. He even went on to complain about you being kept in bed by the Healer.

"I was very confused.  What happened to the girl who took as many scrapes and bruises like the rest of us? Are you going to allow them to treat you like a soft and whiny Saxon woman?" He asked with a great deal of disgust. "You do not need to be in bed like some sickler. What you need is fresh air and exercise."

"But the Healer-----"

"The Healer is a servant! Do you take orders or do you give them?" Ivar said as he glanced at you for a moment. "As long as you are not terribly sick why be treated as such?

You stared at your brother as you mulled over his words. It was quite true. You were only feeling poorly due to your stress level. However, you didn't feel the need to be confined to bed. Ivar was right, you were no sickler nor were you feeble.

"Admittedly, you are right. I do need to return to my normal routine. If Aethelred knew I have been neglecting my swordplay, he would be surprised."

"Aethelred?" Ivar repeated. "Is that not the sickly one's brother? You mean to tell me that he has no issue with you training."

"No. In fact, he has been my greatest rival as well as my biggest advocate."

Your brother glanced at you as you spoke. There was something in your voice that caught his interest. The manner in which you spoke of Aethelred was unlike anything he had heard before. Ivar even noticed that your smile had become wider.

"Why do you reflect on him in such a way?"

"What?"

"Do not act as if you do not know what I am saying. You like him?"

Instantly, you looked down at your hands - playing with your nails that were in need of cutting. Undeterred, Ivar reached over and took hold of your chin. After turning your head toward him, he studied your expression.

"So, it is true. You do have fondness for this Aethelred."

"Ivar please. Why must you insist on knowing everything about me? Let me have some thoughts that are my own for once."

"How can that ever be?" He asked, almost amused by your assertion. Caressing your chin in an affectionate manner, he stared at you. "Y/N, do you not understand yet? I know you better than you even know yourself. There is no way you can ever keep a secret from me even if you tried."

Your eyes finally met Ivar's intense gaze. As you sat in silence, just beholding one another, he moved closer. Without asking, he gave you a sweet kiss upon your lips.

"Sister, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then do not keep things from me. No matter what the obstacle, you and I must stick together." Ivar said before giving you another kiss, this time much longer. "Alright?"

You nodded your head slowly as you looked into his eyes. Pleased, Ivar tapped his cheek with his finger. As you went to place a kiss upon it, he turned and caught your lips with his own. Your brother then gave you a series of pecks before pressing his forehead to yours.

"You tricked me!"

"I know." A pleased Ivar replied before brushing his nose against yours playfully.

As he contemplated giving you a passionate kiss, the door creaked loudly as it began to open. You pulled away from your brother just as Alfred entered. As soon as soon as he spotted Ivar, your betrothed greeted him graciously. Surprisingly, your brother returned his gesture in kind without any hint of disdain.

"My love, are you alright?" Alfred asked. While he stood where you were sat down, the Prince caressed your cheek. "Your father thinks you are upset with him because of how abruptly departed."

"Good! I left because he was upsetting me." You confessed.

"That does not matter." Ivar interjected. "I will be the first to admit that Ragnar is not always the easiest person to get along with. But in the end, he is still our father.

"As your brother so eloquently pointed out, you must still remember that he is your father." Alfred replied.

"Exactly. I have told Y/N before that no matter what, she must learn to respect him."

"Agreed." Alfred again concurred with a nod. He then glanced at you with vindication. "Your brother's words are wise."

You glared at Ivar who now pretended not to notice you. Instead, he busied himself arranging the chess board as Alfred took a seat across from him. The manner in which your brother had made you look like the bad person was irritating enough. But to have the two of them practically teaming up against you, was infuriating.

"You should listen to your future husband more often, Y/N." Ivar advised as he looked at you. "Heathen or Christian, men are responsible for the household."

Alfred had the hint of a smile now upon hearing your brother’s statement. He thought it to be very much in line with his own thoughts. But as far as you were concerned, if you could have slapped Ivar, you would have done so. Instead, you forced yourself to politely thank him for his words.

Sitting beside your brother in silence, you feigned a smile as bad thoughts ran through your mind. One of them being how much you would enjoy flipping the table over and challenging the two of them to a fight.

However, you sat in silence with your hands upon your lap. While you watched Alfred and Ivar match wits, you knew the time would come when you would best them both.

____________________________

In the middle of the night, you tossed in your bed as the banging on your door became louder. Finally realizing that whomever it was would not go away, you sat up. After you yelling for the person to enter, a female Thrall did so with a concerned look upon her face.

"Please forgive me your Highness, but Prince Sigurd insisted that I wake you. There is trouble."

"What trouble?"

Your heart had already started beating erratically with worry. Did something happen to one of your brothers? Ivar perhaps. He did have times where his bone illness became unbearable. However, Healer Drusilla had been controlling his pain effectively for years now. What could it possibly be?"

"It is the Queen." The Thrall whispered as she re-positioned the lantern in her hand. "She was distraught when I saw her pacing the floor of the Great Hall earlier.  Not only that, but she was highly intoxicated. Naturally, I tried to usher her to bed but she refused. Instead, she insisted that she wanted to go for a walk. She then went off in the direction of the trees past the gardens. It has started raining so she will fall sick if we do not find her."

You quickly jumped out of the bed and instructed the woman to inform your brother to enter.

Within seconds, Sigurd came in with the Thrall behind him - his face wearing the signs of unease. Straightaway, you went to your brother and gave him a reassuring embrace. As you pulled away, you looked at him encouragingly.

"We shall find her, do not worry. I will wake---------"

"No sister! We cannot wake the entire household. This must be kept between a few people. Ragnar, he……….." Sigurd hesitated – his expression becoming strained. "Look, Father is not the kindest person at times. If he gets word of this, he will eventually throw it in my mother's face. He always mocks her for such things despite knowing why she behaves as she does."

"So I was right. Father went cavorting tonight." You thought to yourself.

When you asked Sigurd if Ragnar had been with women that evening, he initially averted his eyes. But then, he looked at you again. You could see that whatever sorrow Aslaug felt, he also felt it as deeply.

"Mother is very sensitive. Ragnar knows very well that when neglects her for long periods, she becomes dejected. Especially when he seems to find time for his…….acquaintances." Sigurd confessed, running a hand over his head. "It makes her feel as if she is being rejected whenever he does such things."

"Can you blame her? Your mother obviously loves Ragnar." You said with a great deal of disdain for your father. "How unfortunate for her." 

Sigurd looked deeply into your eyes and nodded in agreement. Your words did not offend in the least. If anything, your brother appreciated your candid observation. He too detested Ragnar's public affairs and cavorting. Sigurd truly wished that your father could be more private with his liaisons. At least that way, his mother's feelings and dignity could be spared.

"Allow me to go and change." You said. "While I am doing so, you may wake Sir Lancille. He is not only trustworthy but a proficient tracker. If anyone will be of use, it is he."

______________________

The rain was practically hammering your little search party as the four of you made your way through the woods. Sir Lancille, yourself, Sigurd and one Christian Guard were drenched despite donning leather and fur cloaks. It was a terrible gale and the sooner you found the Queen, the better.

"She went this way." Lancille shouted over the terrible wail of the wind and downpour. "Take care! The trail slopes downward sharply."

As you all descended, Sigurd guided you cautiously - making certain to watch your footing. It was dangerous terrain but coupled with the darkness; it was made even more treacherous. Despite the covered lanterns, there wasn't too much light to work with so everyone took their time.

"Sister, take care. It is very slippery over here."

"I am." You shouted in reply.

Eventually, the two of you caught up to the others.

"There! Indentations in the mud." Lancille remarked as he pointed to some high brush. "The three of you wait here. I will fetch her."

He then handed his covered lantern to a confused Sigurd.

"Do you not need this?"

"Trust me. I can see in the dark better than an owl."

Drenched, you pulled the hood of your cloak down further in an attempt to shield yourself better. As you held onto Sigurd's arm, you hoped that Lancille would truly locate your stepmother. Though you understood he need to get away from everyone, it was time to get her home. There would be time to comfort her once she was safely back at the estate.

"There they are." The guard shouted as he lifted his covered lantern higher.

The three of you spotted Lancille carrying a passed-out Queen Aslaug in his arms. She looked extremely pale but very much alive. The one thing you hoped was that she would not fall gravely ill. After all, your stepmother was only wearing a dress with no shawl, cloak or other covering.

Sigurd rushed to Lancille's side and proceeded to light his way as the four of you began walking towards the estate. The Christian guard stayed close to your side in order to protect you whilst your brother walked ahead with your personal guard. As you mulled things over, you blamed Ragnar. He was so thoughtless at times that you wondered just how any woman could like him. 

No doubt people always exclaimed that your father was handsome, but so what. Did that give him the right to treat people as he did? Your brothers may have been afraid to show him disdain but you certainly weren’t.

In your eyes, your father was quite the villain. And to be honest, his history spoke for itself. From Lagertha to your mother to Queen Aslaug, Ragnar left destruction everywhere he went.

___________________

When you made it back to the estate, two of Lancille's men let slipped everyone in through the South gateway. Thankfully, no one had been roused while you were gone and all was still quiet. Like a clandestine operation, you managed to get the Queen to her chamber with no one being the wiser. After Sir Lancille handed her over to a strong male Thrall, you glanced at him.

"You have my deepest gratitude." You said while removing your drenched cloak. Taking a cloth from one of the servants, you began drying Lancille's hair much to his surprise. "I swear, I do not know what I would do without you at times. You are like my very own guardian angel."

Your guard only looked at you with an indecipherable expression. Inwardly, he was touched by your show of kindness and affection. Outwardly however, he only nodded in acknowledgement before insisting it was merely his duty.

"And as I have always told you, I am yours to command. Always." He added before gently taking the cloth from your hands. "I better do that myself."

It wasn't that Lancille truly wanted to stop you from drying his hair. However, due to his infatuation, he didn't want to tempt himself by remaining so close.

"I echo my sister's thoughts, Sir Lancille." A thankful Sigurd said as he came and stood beside you. He then handed a chalice of warmed wine to your guard. "We are truly in your debt."

"Please, your Highness, there is no need. It was my pleasure to be of service."

"Well, if it is all the same to you, I insist on giving reward. To you it may be a duty but it does not make it any less appreciated. Tomorrow, we shall look at swords…..something special." Sigurd replied with a great smile. "And I shall not take 'no' for an answer."

"That is a wonderful idea." You chimed. "I shall come along as well."

Lancille thanked your brother before eyeing you – almost amused in a way. 

With that, he bid you all a good evening and departed the Queen's chamber.

"I truly like him." Sigurd said as he took a seat by the fireplace. "He is a genuine and noble man. It is hard to find someone like him anywhere."

"I know that to be very true. Lancille is very special to me. I cannot imagine my life without him or Sir Evertte."

As Queen Aslaug was finally placed in bed by some Thralls, you and Sigurd sat by the fireplace. The two of you spoke of Ragnar and other important things that had been bothering you both.  

________________________

In the morning, you were still quite groggy as people began entering your chamber. You had gone to bed perhaps only two hours or so before everyone began waking. Your Handmaidens entered full of giggles and dressed for the day. Behind them, Pippa and Governess Yasmine followed.

After greeting you, the five Handmaidens took their seats and began their usual round of gossip.

"Governess, why have you all come this morning? As I have told you before, I do not require everyone to be at my beck-and-call here in Kattegat."

"Oh, I know dear." Governess Yasmine said, taking a seat. "But Priest Grundherr believes there has not been enough communal prayer as of late. He has been complaining about everyone backsliding since arriving in Heathen lands."

"I for one agree." Pippa stated as she placed her book down. "Just because we are……..here, it does not mean we should forget who we are. Communal prayer is essential for your souls. So, once you are dressed, we shall attend service in the Sitting Hall of the North wing. Your father gave his permission to convert it."

You came close to rolling your eyes upon hearing the word "father". Needless to say, after what had occurred with your stepmother, he wasn't your favorite person at the moment.

"Fine. I shall get ready."

Despite being exhausted, you threw the furs off and slid out of bed. With a proper yawn, you stretched causing Governess Yasmine to eye you.

"Are you still tired?"

"I am very tired, however, I shall begin my day as normal. However, I most definitely will turn in early tonight."

_____________________

As you listened to Priest Grundherr giving the ending portion of the sermon, you could feel yourself slipping. It was bad enough that you had barely slept, but now, you had to fight to stay awake due to sheer boredom.

Trying your best as you sat between Prince Aethelwulf and Alfred, you glanced at the large gold cross beside the Priest. It was an ornate and expensive artifact that had been smuggled when you left Arundel. Still, your eyes were growing heavier.

"And what is more, the Holy Trinity is not mocked. No, my brethren. There is nothing that escapes the judgment of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. For that reason, we must guard ourselves…….."

Priest Grundherr's voice trailed off in your ears. Taking notice of your head slumping and your eyes closing, Aethelwulf gave you a slight nudge. You instantly opened your eyes, stunned at just how quickly you had nodded of.

Glancing at your future father-in-law, you gave a discreet smile, thanking him for waking you. The last thing you needed was the Priest taking notice of you sleeping during a sermon. Knowing Grundherr, he would likely think the Devil had a hold of you.

Making eye contact with the Priest, Prince Aethelwulf furrowed his brow. It was his silent message that things needed to conclude. Clearing his throat, the clergyman asked all of you to say your prayers of contrition so he could give the Holy Communion. 

As soon as you had gone and knelt at the makeshift altar, you felt relieved. If the service had gone any longer, you would have fallen asleep for sure.

As you walked back to your seat, you noticed that Pippa and Lancille were not sitting beside one another. It was odd since you knew she typically liked sitting with him at gatherings.

"Perhaps, I should ask what is going on. Then again, maybe it is not my place." You thought.

_________________________

Grateful to finally be outdoors, you stood in one of the stalls prepping a black steed that belonged to Ubbe. As you checked the saddle, your Handmaidens sat nearby watching you curiously.

"Are you certain that you do not need us to accompany you, your Highness?" One asked. "After all, we are your companions."

"I doubt you will find weaponry to your interest. But if you would like, you are all free to come and see me at the Training Grounds." You replied with a smirk. "After all, I know how much you ladies enjoy observing handsome men."

Agreeing to come and watch you practice with your brothers later on, the Handmaidens took their leave. As they departed, Prince Alfred and Aethelwulf approached.

"Why are you here in the stables? Your betrothed asked as he studied you with a curious expression. "Are you prepping that horse for yourself?

You wanted to slap yourself. How could you have forgotten to tell him about your planned excursion? Damn the lack of sleep! All you could do now was hope that the oversight didn't cause an unnecessary confrontation.

"Actually, it is. Sigurd and I are going into town with Sir Lancille."

"Is that so? And you were planning on telling me this when?"

Prince Aethelwulf winced inwardly as he looked between you and Alfred. Obviously, he could tell where things were headed. However, he held back. Since he had been advising his son about the frailties of marriage, he hoped it was working. Thus, the elder Prince decided that he would only step-in if necessary.

"I am sorry that it slipped my mind to inform you." You admitted very sincerely.

"Well, that is obvious! Did you not have the opportunity to tell me after Prayer Service?"

"I know but…….I do not know what to say." You apologetically said. "I am very tired today so I suppose that is not doing me any favors."

"Tired?" Alfred repeated with a hint of sarcasm. "That is ridiculous."

"But it is true. I did not rest more than two or three hours." You protested. "I swear."

Despite your insistence, Alfred did not appear to believe you. Fortunately, as the two of you were still going back and forth, Sigurd approached. When he arrived, he stood beside Prince Aethelwulf with a perplexed expression upon his face.

"Afternoon, your Highness." Your brother said before fixating on you and Alfred. "What is the issue with those two?"

"Apparently, my son thinks your sister intentionally forgot to mention your afternoon plans. She says it slipped her mind due to lack of sleep but……….well, you can see for yourself."

Excusing himself, Sigurd walked to you and Alfred before interrupting with a polite clearing of his throat. He then greeted the young Prince before informing him that you were indeed being honest.

"Something occurred last night so I was forced to wake Y/N." Sigurd added. "When I turned in, she was still up with my mother. Honestly, I am quite surprised that she is even up and about. I had assumed it would just be Sir Lancille and I going to town alone."

Alfred felt a touch of guilt for not believing you. The fact that you had denied yourself rest in order to care for your stepmother was honorable. After thanking Sigurd for validating things for him, your betrothed turned to you.

"Please forgive me, Y/N." He said as he took your hand in his.

"You cannot be serious! The only reason you believe me now is because my brother echoed my words." You firmly replied - staring at him in disbelief. "Why should that be the case?"

"You have a right to be upset with me. But I am truly apologetic."

"It is only because Sigurd came to my aid. Just admit it Alfred, you do not trust me."

Though you were more irate than hurt, you allowed tears to well. As Governess Yasmine had told you on numerous occasions, crying was a great weapon. Upon seeing your expression and the wetness glistening in your eyes, Alfred was filled with guilt.

He knew you were correct. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help being domineering. The worst part was that the he knew very well how it felt to be treated in such a way. After all, Alfred had a great deal of resentment toward his mother for doing the very same thing.

"Y/N, please, you are breaking my heart." He whispered as he stepped closer. "I was wrong for being skeptical of what you said."

You felt his delicate fingers wiping the tears that had begun gliding down your cheeks.

"Do not cry, sister. I think your betrothed is truly sorry." Sigurd commented in an attempt to comfort you.

Suddenly, you heard Ivar's voice calling your name. When you turned to look in his direction, your brother raised a brow.

"What is the matter?" He immediately asked, walking to you upon his crutch.

Ivar didn't even bother to greet or acknowledge anyone else. His focus; the entirety of it; was on you.

"It……….I was just…..upset. All is fine now." You replied.

Not appearing to believe you, Ivar took out a kerchief from his tunic pocket. Gently, he wiped your eyes as he glared at Alfred. He didn't appreciate the fact that you were upset and knew 'your Christian' had done something. Ivar had to summon all of his willpower to keep from exploding. If it was not for the delicate treaties in place, your brother would have likely grabbed your betrothed by the neck.

"Do not tell me you are fine when I can clearly see that you were moved to tears." Ivar responded as he beckoned you with his free hand.

As the two of you walked off a short distance, you reassured your temperamental brother the best you could. Despite not believing you in the least, he eventually relented.

"Fine. We shall talk about it later." He said in a lowered voice. "At least I care. I see that your favorite brother was of no help to you."

"Ivar, please stop. Why must you now shift the focus to Siggy? You know very well that I hate it when you speak ill of him."

Ivar eyed you with veiled jealously. Oh how he loathed your overt fondness for Sigurd and Bjorn. Though it had been that way ever since you met them, he had hoped things would have changed.

"Why do you always insist on standing up for him? Am I not also your brother?"

You exhaled with some exasperation. Between Ivar and Alfred, you didn't know how much more irritation you could tolerate.

"Of course you are. But I love you all the same so please, stop making me choose between you."

"You love me?"

"Of course I do. However, it does not seem like you believe me when I say it."

"Then tell me more often." Ivar replied - finally appearing pacified. "And act as if you appreciate me showing concern for you."

"Of course I appreciate it. I always have."

Ivar gazed at you with deep devotion before agreeing for the two of you to speak later on. Relieved, you informed him that you would see him at the Training Grounds as promised. While you walked back to your steed where Alfred was still awaiting you, Ivar watched. 

He did not view you as a brother would a sister but as one would admire the object of their affection. As for Sigurd, he was busily chatting with Prince Aethelwulf and Sir Lancille.

As soon as you reached where Alfred was, he meekly took both your hands in his. To your surprise, he again asked for your forgiveness.

"You do know that I love you, do you not?" He asked.

"Of course I do." 

"Then please do not be angry with me for long. I am trying my best."

Alfred gave you a weak smile, his eyes reflecting his fear of losing you.

"Do not fret yourself Alfie. I am not upset with you. In fact, it is already forgotten." You said much to his relief.

It was so difficult for you to describe your relationship with Alfred. No matter what occurred between you, it was never an easy task to stay angry with him. Because despite everything, you cared immensely for him. He and Aethelred were both near-and-dear to your heart. 

You only wished things could have stayed as they had been. The three of you getting along and doing all manner of fun things together. Regrettably, it appeared that becoming adults had changed everything. All your social dynamics that were once enjoyable, became complicated overnight.

"May I embrace you?" Alfred asked with some apprehension.

When you replied that it would be fine, he wasted no time in pulling you into his arms. Ivar, who was now leaning against the doorway of the stable, scoffed to himself. It wasn't easy for him to watch you in the arms of the man you were soon to marry. If he had it his way, the nuptials would have been delayed due to the impending war.

Sir Lancille, only glanced at you and Alfred momentarily before turning his attention back to the conversation at hand. 

Though his deep affection for you was still growing, the brooding knight had no intention of making his feelings known. But despite telling himself that your happiness was all that mattered, Lancille also did not care for your impending vows.

________________________

In his study, Sir Lancille's estranged cousin; Sir Mansfeld; and his father, Sir Peregrine, sat drinking wine. It was very late at night and they had just returned from Brackhill Palace. King Dorian had called for a special meeting of all his top Advisors and Attendants and thus they had to make themselves present. Since they lived in the neighboring city, it had been quite the journey. As the two men relaxed, one of the Head Servants entered.

"Forgive me, my Lords but this letter has been awaiting you for two days now." The man said apologetically. "I wanted to make certain to hand it to you straightway."

"A letter? From whom?" Sir Peregrine asked.

He was exhausted from the journey and wanted to see if it was worth reading or could be left for the morning.

"The herald that brought it was quite secretive. Not only did he refuse to give it to anyone that wasn't a Head Servant, he informed me that it was from a foreign Prince. He also made no qualms about the need to keep it in a private place. For that reason, it has been under lock-and-key in my chamber."

"Really?" An intrigued Mansfeld said. "Was he a foreigner or a native?"

"The accent was unquestionably foreign. Perhaps from Eire lands. Though I would like to mention that he appeared more of a mercenary than a true herald."

"So, a secretive letter from a foreign Prince." Sir Peregrine said with interest. "I wonder why one would be reaching out to me."

"Forgive me, my Lord but it is actually not addressed to you. It is for Sir Mansfeld in particular."

Both Mansfeld and his father looked even more interested than before. It truly was perplexing as to whom could be reaching out. After the letter was handed to the younger knight, he broke the wax that bore no seal and then unwrapped the twining.

Sir Peregrine patiently watched his son read the letter while sipping his wine. Raising a brow, a devious smile crossed Mansfeld’s face before he abruptly dismissed the servant. Once the man had departed, he glanced at his father.

"You will not believe who has written me."

"Who?"

"Prince Ivar."

"Is he not one of the heirs to Ragnar the Bloody Heathen?" An astonished Sir Peregrine asked. "What could he possibly want with you?"

"I had the privilege of meeting him when we went to Kattegat some time ago. Whilst the trip to negotiate with that reckless Princess failed, Ivar and I developed an understanding of sorts." Mansfeld said much to his father's surprise. "We communicated for some time after my return, but I have not heard from him in over a year. I dare say that you would like him. He is a man that thinks for himself and has his own plans. Grand ones."

"That is rather interesting."

"Indeed it is, father." Sir Mansfeld replied as he again looked at the letter in his hand.

______________________

A solemn Aethelred was busily working on letters to King Bram Leifsson and King Aella when his mother entered. Princess Judith had a letter clasped in her hand that had just arrived from a Great House. For that reason, she was feeling more excited than usual.

“What is it mother?” Aethelred asked without looking up from his papers. “I am nearly done. If it is alright with you, we can talk after I affix the seals.”

Not one to be deterred, Judith took a seat directly in front of the desk and held up the letter in her hand.

“I will return to speak to you further but I must tell you this exciting news.”

“What is it? Is that from Y/N?” Aethelred asked as he finally looked up. 

He had written you several times since the two of you had parted ways in West Francia, however, he had yet to hear from you. Naturally, he had been sick with worry thinking you had forgotten all about him.

However, the reason for the lack of communication was simple. Ever vigilant in protecting Alfred’s interests, Judith had made sure to have each one of Aethelred’s letters confiscated. Even the three letters you had managed to send off without Alfred’s knowledge had also been seized.

“I am afraid this has nothing to do with your brother’s soon-to-be wife.” She replied, earning a glare from Aethelred. “It does, however, have everything to do with you.”

“Me? Who is it from?”

“Just know that it is from a great family. Furthermore, they have agreed to give one of their daughters to you in marriage.”

Aethelred put down his quill and stared at his mother for what seemed like an eternity. His jaw was so tensed that Judith nearly regretted giving the news while sitting so closely.

“Mother, I do not know whom this woman is but I shall not marry her. If even God himself has fashioned her, I refuse to be her husband.” Aethelred finally said as the shock wore off. “If I am so inclined to ever marry,  I shall find my own wife.”

“Nonsense! You are a Prince and heir to the throne. You must marry, just as Alfred is doing. In fact, you shall meet your soon-to-be wife before your brother’s nuptials.”

“I will do no such thing.” An irate Aethelred said firmly. He loved you still. And if his mother thought his feelings went away because she snatched you for Alfred, she was sadly mistaken. “I may have to go along with a great many things, but I must draw a line somewhere.”

“You may be angry and you may rant, if you wish. But King Ecbert has given his blessings. He is writing for the blessings of King Charles the Bald and the Pope as we speak.”

With that Princess Judith stood from her seat. She then added that she was doing everything for Aethelred’s own good. When she left the study, he sat in silence for a long while before hurling a copper vase at the door - denting it. 

Princess Judith was unaware but she was pushing her elder son’s emotions too far. If she did not take care, it would only be a matter of time before things came to a head.

_______________

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[chiseler]

An Interview With Screenwriter Louisa Rose

In 1973, Brian De Palma released Sisters, his Siamese twin mystery thriller starring Margot Kidder and Charles Durning. After a string of social satires which, to be honest, haven’t aged very well, Sisters was De Palma’s breakthrough film, the one that would cement the form and style for which he’d come to be known. A year later he released the horror/comedy/glam rock opera Phantom of the Paradise starring the great Paul Williams. Hitting theaters more than a year before Rocky Horror, Phantom combined elements from Faust, Phantom of the Opera and about a dozen other sources into a bright, fast, wicked comic book satire of the music business. The film went on to become a cult favorite.

Both films were written by screenwriter Louisa Rose, though she is rarely credited for her work on Phantom. After some reputed and proverbial creative differences, De Palma removed her name from the film and rewrote the script, taking sole screenwriting credit. Although Rose disagrees with me, I think it can be argued it was her work on these two scripts, particularly Sisters, that drew attention to De Palma as a director.

After spending the first 20 years of her adult life in New York City, she and her husband relocated first to Spokane and then to Seattle about a decade back. Not long ago, I spoke with her via phone about her career as a playwright and Hollywood screenwriter.

Jim Knipfel: How did you get started in screenwriting?

Louisa Rose: {Laughs} By accident. I was one of those kids who wrote poetry in high school. I went to college thinking I wanted to be an actress. Theater was my primary interest. I found that I really enjoyed the rehearsal process, but really did not enjoy acting for an audience. That was not a recommendation for a career on stage, so part of my theater concentration (we called our majors “concentrations” at Sarah Lawrence) was writing for the theater. And that’s what I really loved. Brian De Palma was at Columbia, and though they had extra-curricular student theater, they did not have the intensive program as part of the curriculum that SLC did, and does.

At any rate, Brian and another Columbia student came to Sarah Lawrence to do theater and some film projects, because the head of the theater department, Wilford Leach, was interested in film as well. He was a mentor for Brian. The first film project, I believe, was a short piece called The Wedding Party. I don’t know if you’ve heard of that.

JK: Oh, yes, I’ve seen it.

LR: After that Brian made Murder a la Mod and Dionysus, I think it was.

JK: You mean Dionysus in ’69?

LR:  Yes, Dionysus in ’69 started out as a theater piece. Scared the shit out of me when I went to see it. It was created by an interesting experimental director, Richard Schechner, as a mass quasi-orgy experience. The venue, The Performing Garage, had stadium seating, actually more like large long shelves almost to the ceiling – and you had to climb ladders to reach them. Then the actors would climb up and invite you to “join the dance.” And I saw one coming toward me… “No, I am not joining the dance. I am an observer” {laughs}.      

Brian did his Masters at Sarah Lawrence, and one of his projects was to direct my senior play. That’s how I got to know him. I then went on to get my MFA in theater. So he knew me and he was looking for someone to write a script for Sisters. He felt his idea for the film would be marketable, but he needed a script. It sounded like fun, and actually became my Master’s thesis.

JK: Really?

LR: Yeah, so that’s how I got to work on Sisters.

JK: So he came to you with the story?

LR: He had kind of an outline. He had this idea that it would be twins, one evil and one good sister…You know, it’s just so long ago it’s hard for me to remember. There were certain points, certain visual things he wanted. We worked together on the story, and then I wrote the script.  

As for Phantom of the Fillmore …

JK: Um, you mean Phantom of the Paradise?

LR: That’s it, Phantom of the Fillmore. It became Paradise.

{Note: After catching wind of the film’s original title, the owners of The Fillmore filed a lawsuit, forcing the change. Another lawsuit, this one filed by Led Zeppelin, forced the name of the films central record company, Swan Song, be changed to Death Records.}

LR: I took time off from working in NYC to go to LA and write scripts for Sisters and Phantom. At that point, I was a single mother, and my daughter Alissa was two and a half. I brought her with me and had her in day care.  I had a contract for a total of $80,000 for the two scripts.  But when it came to getting paid, Brian delayed and delayed, told me it was not a good time and that I needed to wait.   As usual, actors, director, camera persons, etc. were paid. I needed the money, had to sue to be paid, and only received a quarter of the contract money.  Brian had been a friend, and it felt like a betrayal.  

But back to the movie, what is your take on Sisters? What are the things you notice about it?

JK: I went back just a couple days ago and watched it again. Just in terms of De Palma’s career, it was a big turning point for him. Discounting Murder A La Mod, he’d been doing all those goofy satires like Greetings and Hi Mom! And Get to Know your Rabbit. Sisters was the first of his thrillers and the first of his Hitchcock homages, the things he’d come to be known for.

LR: Right.

JK: Ignoring the Psycho model at play, one of the things that always struck me about Sisters was that in lesser hands the big Siamese twins reveal would have been saved until the last ten or fifteen pages of the script, but here we get it about forty minutes in. Even before that, they gave it away in the poster; they gave it away in the tagline. There was no secret the killer—or killers—were Siamese twins. But then of course there’s the later twist, which brings us back to Psycho.

LR: Mm-hmm.

JK: What really sticks with me, though, is the whole final sequence from Jennifer Salt’s hypnotism to that final shot of Charles Durning staring through the binoculars at the couch. It’s so good. I love that ending so much. Also, having come to know of her only later, I was amazed to see what a good actress Margot Kidder was.

LR: I thought she was very appealing and a really good choice for the part.

JK: In the end Sisters, more so than the thrillers that would follow—Dressed to Kill, Body Double, Blow Out—is the one I always go back to, because even the Hitchcock stuff is still fairly understated at that point. So I’m wondering, how much of that final script, what made it to the screen, was yours?

LR I think I have a copy of my original script here, if I could find it. It was much longer and needed to be cut. I really don’t know. It was a long time ago and I’d need to re-read it.  

There is a Blu-Ray copy of Sisters put out by Arrow that has interviews of some people who worked on the film.

I’ve got it somewhere.]

My husband keeps saying I should show it to our teenage grandchildren, but it might destroy their image of me as nice old grandma. On the other hand, some years ago, our two nephews watched it as young teenagers and looked at me with new respect—or was it fear?

Now, what is funny is that Sisters is kind of a cult film, and so is Phantom. About ten years ago, shortly after we moved to Seattle, I got a call from a young woman originally from Winnipeg.

JK: The one city where Phantom was a big hit when it came out.

LR: Yes, it was a cult film there, with a festival and now possibly a documentary about the festival. We had a visit, and she mailed me – I believe it was a production copy of the script for Sisters.

JK: So what was it like for you, a young woman writing films in the Seventies?

LR: There are things funny and not funny that happened…Nothing about the movie business appealed to me, based on my very limited experience. The people were kind of awful. I have memories of someone from the studio, a married accountant. He said, “Oh, I have to go to San Francisco to scout locations, and you could come with me.” The whole approach was making me nervous, and I said, “Well, I have a two-year-old daughter with me, so, uh, no I can’t do that.” And he said, “Well, we could bring your daughter and get baby-sitting for her, and then we could have a Really Good Time.” I thought, oh, just leave me alone—I’m not a gorgeous actress, I’m a writer.

JK: Not that long ago I interviewed an actress from the late Fifties who up and left the movie business for twenty years because she wouldn’t put up with that.

LR: Women were treated horribly in Hollywood as elsewhere. When I went to look for a job in New York after college, there were separate job listings for men and women. Men could apply for management-track jobs and women could be a “Gal Fri” or a “Secy.”  

I was very taken by a piece in Ms. Magazine about a woman who worked in a factory that made plutonium pellets and who became a whistle-blower. I thought it would make a good movie.

JK: You mean Karen Silkwood?

LR: That’s it. So I met a woman who worked at New Line Cinema, who got me an interview with a producer there. I came in and I was supposed to pitch my idea. It was almost like a parody of a scene in a Hollywood movie about a Hollywood movie. The guy is sitting there with his feet up on the desk and he has these three or four male cronies sitting around, and he’s cracking jokes and they’re all laughing heartily at his jokes. Eventually he said, “So you want to write a script,” and I said “Yeah.” I started telling him about it, and he kept interrupting me. He was horrified to learn that Karen Silkwood, a single mother, had left her children with their grandparents so she could take a well-paying job at the plant.  “No one would ever go to see a movie about a woman who leaves her children,” he announced.  Basically, the interview was over at that point.  He looked at me and asked if I knew how to type.  When I said yes, he said,

“Well, you could come and be a typist here.”

JK: My god.

LR: At that point, I said, “I think you’ve really got too much going on here to pay attention, so I think this isn’t working too well.” He sprang up from his desk and stalked off, bright red, furious. He came back and said, “I have never been so insulted in my life.” That was the end of that. {Laughs.}

{Note: For what it’s worth, Rose’s instincts were good. Director Mike Nichols’ take on the Silkwood story, starring Meryl Streep and written by Nora Ephron, was released in 1983.}

LR: Then, because I’d written a horror movie, I was offered other projects. One was to be a murder film involving Debbie Harry, the lead singer with Blondie, the rock group.  The only requirement as far as the potential director was concerned was that it needed to have seven or eight murders. The rest was up to me. I met Debbie Harry and talked to her to get a sense of what she could do. You just get a sense of what people can do. She had no acting background.

JK: Would this have been her first picture?

LR: It would have been, I think, but it was never made. At one point, she said “Well, I just want to play the part of a housewife in the movie.” And I thought she’d be more believable as the person she actually was.  So I made it about a rock group beset by a number of murders. I think it had seven murders. Then I came back for the next meeting. She’d read the script and said, “I can’t do this movie; it’s the story of my life.” And I thought, WHAT? {Laughs.}. I mean, WHAT? So that one didn’t happen.

JK: So that was, what, around 1980?

LR: I think so, late Seventies or early Eighties. Something like that.

JK: So that was after Monique was made?

LR; {pause} So you know about that.

JK: Yes.

LR: How did you find out about that?

JK: Well, it’s listed on your filmography online, and I’ve seen it.

LR: {Sighs heavily and laughs} It has very little to do with me. Believe me, I’ve seen it also. That’s the thing about screenwriting. Who knows? You sit at home and do your writing, but who knows what will emerge?

I was hired by a French would-be feature film director who had done film work for a famous French fashion house.   He wanted a story about a woman who becomes psychotic when she learns her husband is gay and proceeds to murder a bunch of gay men.

I don’t recognize the script part of it and wish I didn’t have a credit on it. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever seen, and I think you can agree with me.

JK: I was going to hold my tongue.

LR: Well, don’t.

JK: It was pretty bad. But I will tell you, it is extremely hard to find nowadays.

LR: Good.

And then there was the time an agent called and said she had a project for me, and that I didn’t have to do my best writing; I could do my second best writing.

JK: That sounds promising.

LR: Well as a writer if someone called and said they had a project but that you’d only have to do your second-best writing, what would you say?

JK: I think I’d ask how much it paid.

LR: But what would be you’re “second-best writing”? It’s like we have it in categories. It’s like, do I want Double A grade eggs? Should they be certified, “humanely raised”? Or do you just want ordinary eggs? How do you apply that to writing? Sure. I can write bad scenes, but I don’t have a special price category for them.

There was another project that I thought was extremely funny. Somebody, God, I can’t even remember who it was anymore; a producer had bought the rights to The Sensuous Woman. Have you heard of that one?

JK: Oh, sure, yes. It was a huge bestseller back then.

LR: It was written by someone only identified as “J” at the time and was supposed to be an advice book. I think one of the funniest suggestions was supposedly made by a woman who found she could have an orgasm by leaning against the dryer when it was running—or maybe it was the washing machine during the final spin cycle.  {laughs}. My job was to take the book and think of some way to dramatize it and turn it into a movie.  The producer, it turned out, had a history of hiring writers and refusing to pay them by claiming that they had not given him a satisfactory script.  The previous writer had been a well-known playwright.

JK: So it was around that point you decided to walk away from films?

LR: I didn’t walk away in the sense that I said, “I’m not doing film-script writing anymore.”  But, I wanted to do theater, and I was also trying to bring up a daughter. The head of my college theater department, Wil Leach, had gone to work as artistic director at Joe Papp’s Shakespeare Festival.  Wil decided to do an all-black version of Mother Courage. It was to be set in America at the time of the Indian Wars. Post-Civil War. Everything was recast, and he didn’t use the Brecht score. He had a composer to do a new score, and he had a black lyricist, who said, “I’m not doing this, it doesn’t pay enough.” Will knew that I had done lyrics for a couple of theatre pieces I worked on in college. So he asked if I would like to do it. It was a really interesting project, taking the Brecht lyrics in German and finding an equivalent way to do them for this production. I don’t know German, so they gave me a German professor from Wesleyan, and we went over the lyrics word by word. We talked a lot about the connotations of the words. I had a Black English dictionary, and I had all kinds of materials. I just loved doing that.

JK: Now when was this, roughly?

LR: In 1980. Before that I also did a couple of plays at La MaMa, one of which went to Off Broadway. It seems when I look back at the things I’ve done, so many of them involve really painful experiences. I think I’m not well suited to keeping my eye on the ball. I keep getting sidetracked, thinking I don’t want to lose friends, don’t want to make anybody miserable and don’t want anyone to make me miserable. Some people have been able to somehow find a home, a theatrical home. I did not.  My last production was in Seattle.  

JK: What was the play?

LR: It was a play about Catherine the Great. I wanted to write a reflective two-character play based on Catherine’s own writing about her life before she became an Empress. She was a teenager when she went to Russia to marry the heir to the throne, an alcoholic teenage boy from Sweden. Somehow it morphed into a much bigger deal, a costume extravaganza.  I had a wonderful director, Elizabeth Huddle, who was Intiman’s Artistic Director.  But, I had horrible reviews in the Seattle papers, and so that was when I gave up.  

I’ve written three non-fiction books with my husband, who is a physician.

JK: What were they?

LR: The first one was for consumers about how to use healthcare, how to talk to doctors, what to do when a hospital admission was necessary. The second book was called The Too-Precious Child, and it was about parents who become so involved with their own wishes and fears about their child that they are unable to experience his or her needs. They might be very loving or not but they are unable to take the child’s actual self into account. The book was published in 1989, and the problem we discussed seems to have gotten massively worse.

We wrote the third book for Consumer Reports to help people understand the basic types of health insurance, how to choose the best plan for one’s circumstance, and how to get the most out of its coverage. My husband was CEO of a health plan and understood the issues, but I could identify with consumers who were trying to figure out how things worked. It took me two weeks and tears of frustration to understand how a family benefit works. Insurance terminology was painful, but I figured if I could be made to understand it, I could explain it to people. Maybe I could turn that into a movie {laughs}. I’ll go pitch that one.  

by Jim Knipfel

[havekiddoswilltravel]

Mother’s Day Reflections – A Guide to Finding Joy on Mother’s Day

Dearest imperfect mom: I see you and you Matter!

If sadness creeps into your heart on Mother’s Day, you’re not alone. I often say that my life has not turned out how I imagined. As a young child, I recall sitting at church at a very young age and offering to hold other people’s children. I’m the youngest of three and a natural nurturer. I would daydream about what my adult life would look like and it always included a house full of children. Then I got older and excelled in academics and all of a sudden, my identity was linked more and more to accomplishments and success. I graduated from high school at the age of 16 and started my career by the age of 20. By the time I met my now husband my family goals had been put on the back burner to my career aspirations. The week that we met, I had spent time looking at job openings abroad and was ready to give in to my travel bug tendencies by exploring a position out of the country. God had other plans. Plans that in retrospect, I’ve stubbornly fought. I can be hard headed.

As I reflect on these events of almost 19 years ago, I can clearly see how I’ve come full circle to my natural tendencies as a nurturer. My career dreams have shifted in order to do right by my marriage and family. Even though I’m on social media daily for the purpose of my blog, I have a love - hate relationship with everything it represents. Social media’s polished snap shots of life can cause one to feel inadequate and lonely, all while being surrounded the thousands of “friends.” It can at times amplify our feelings of inadequacy in parenting and marriage and make us feel not good enough or a failure due to the mistakes that we’ve made.  The positives of social media are that is has allowed me to meet, establish and maintain relationships with amazing women, that have kept me connected and grounded throughout this parenting journey. These women (some are mothers and others are not) have encouraged me to be transparent and vulnerable in order to continue to mentor and inspire others. Is life perfect? Heck no and that’s the truth that I want to focus on this Mother’s Day.

Parenting is hard work and I hope that this atypical Mother’s Day blog post will help you realize that no mother – child relationship is perfect. We all make mistakes. We all fall short. There are no perfect mothers, so if you have a difficult relationship with your mother or feel like you’re messing up your own kids; be encouraged. You’re not alone!

 As Mother’s Day approaches, I’ve asked my readers to share their hearts and answer the question: “Do you dread or look forward to Mother’s Day?” The answers  have confirmed that I’m not alone in my reflections on this day. That it’s possible to love and mourn something simultaneously. Mother’s Day is a day of celebration for many, but also a day of pain, loss, regret, sadness and hurt for some. I’m incredibly grateful for the vulnerability shown by my readers and their willingness to share their stories. I loved the ones of mothers who plan their own Mother’s Day down to every detail (me included) and enjoy every minute of being charge. 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. It’s no secret that I’m married to a psychiatrist and other than travel blogging and homeschooling my kids, I also manage his private practice. Our lives are incredibly hectic, causing us to be intentional in our boundaries, expectations, self-care and communication. I’m a big proponent of therapy and mental health priorities. My husband and I actually went to marital therapy prior to getting married and it was one of the best things that we’ve done for our relationship. He often tells me that I’m an extremely complicated woman; that there are so many layers to me, sort of like an onion. I’m not sure that any woman wishes to be compared to an onion, but I’m inclined to agree with him. I’m driven, dedicated, hardworking, tough and independent on the outside, but extremely sensitive and a bleeding heart on the inside. I struggle with saying no and tend to over extend myself. As a result, I often find myself drained. I’m trying to do better. It’s why I take a break at noon twice per week and take a taekwondo class,  why I play music and dance around the house often in order to reduce stress and why I’m expressive of my need for help or a moment of silent.  

 If you’re a mother or an adult son or daughter struggling this Mother’s Day, I urge you to get help. You cannot be all things to all people, nor can you give from an empty vessel. Don’t believe the lie that counseling and therapy are not for you, or that being weak or hurt is not an option. Don’t continue to hide behind the façade and smile through the pain. Toxic relationships, the hurt that they cause and years of pent up pain, will leak into other areas of your life. I hate to be a joy kill this Mother’s Day, but I’m honestly tired of the pretenses and falsehood that surrounds us, not only on social media, but also in church pews, sports fields and gatherings with friends. Keep Mother’s Day simple this year. Take the first step on the road of breaking the cycle that keeps you stuck. Break the chains of pain, hurt, trauma, denial, failure, lies and shame and set yourself on the path to be the best daughter and mother that you were created to be. Shame and isolation will keep you thinking that you’re the only one struggling this Mother’s Day. That’s not true. My reader’s feedback and my husband’s clinical experience proves otherwise. You are not alone. Now, what are you going to do about it?

 Your stories and feedback confirm that mothering is complicated.

That being a mother, can be lonely.

That toxic mother – child relationships exist and cause a deep void for many on a holiday meant to celebrate something good.

That motherhood can leave us feeling like we can never measure up.

I’ve carefully read your words and reflected on your private joy, triumphs, failures, hurt and pain, and I see you; you matter, your story has a purpose. I pray that all children and mothers who read these words, are inspired to love someone well. Even if it’s not your own mother, wife, daughter or friend, please pause and consider how you can bring a smile to someone’s day on Mother’s Day.

 If you’re overjoyed on Mother’s Day – I celebrate with the readers who shared that they look forward to Mother’s Day each year. Several shared pictures of their children taken throughout the years on Mother’s Day, as they reflect on the passing of time and the beautiful memories made. I’m there with you. Mother’s Day is probably the one day when I’m actually in the pictures with my family. My husband makes a point to have me get in the pictures on this day, rather than always being behind the camera. I’m a paparazzi mami, I love documenting the chaos of raising four young children without a village. I’ve lived the last 14 years in a perpetual state of exhaustion, yet I treasure each picture from Mother’s Days gone by. If you’re a tired, overworked, bags under your eyes mother who’s holding back tears at how quickly time flies when you’re in the midst of hands-on parenting, I see you and you matter. You are good enough.

If you dread Mother’s Day – Several readers responded that they dreaded Mother’s Day or at least have at certain stages in their life. The reasons behind this dread varied and I will expand further on them later, but a common thread was family hurt, dreams lost and a history of trauma. I urge you to read this blog post by Negra Bohemian on the importance of giving yourself permission to be weak. There is such power in weakness and vulnerability. 

We live in a society that places value in perceived perfection and strength, to the point where people are faking just about everything. I’m so grateful for your willingness to be transparent and vulnerable. You’re not alone. I urge you to keep reading and be encouraged.

If you’re mourning on Mother’s Day – Mourning shows up in many different ways on Mother’s Day. It causes us to pause, take a deep breath and acknowledge that pain in our gut, as the memories surface. It shows up in the form of the husband unable to celebrate motherhood fully with his wife, due to the void left by the loss of his own mother. It’s in the pain felt by the mother unable to fully smile, as she clenches her teeth while reading her Mother’s Day cards and feeling the pain of missing her own mother or also the pain of remembering a lost child. If you’re mourning on Mother’s Day, give yourself permission to weep and cry. Mother’s Day doesn’t have to equal a “Stepford Wives” fake joy. It’s okay to not be okay. Mourning shows up in the form of the woman struggling with infertility who tries to avoid public spaces on Mother’s Day. I see you and you matter. It shows up in the one who’s dealing with the loss of a child on Mother’s Day. I see you and you matter. It’s in the young widow helping her own children attempt to make her breakfast while being reminded of all the lost dreams. I see you and you matter.

If you’re struggling and wish that you could skip Mother’s Day – When my husband was a resident, I dreaded going to church on Mother’s Day. I consider myself an independent woman, yet I experienced a sense of dread when I entered a public space alone on Mother’s Day. I’ve had to do it on many occasions due to my husband’s work schedule and living in a town without family. I’ve celebrated Mother’s Day alone while pregnant, with a baby and with several kids and it doesn’t get easier. What does that say about our culture, that women would rather stay home in their yoga pants alone on Mother’s Day rather then enter a place of worship?

Last Fall, I wrote a blog post: Life Lessons on my 40th Birthday. One of the lessons that I wrote about was: Don’t left fear be the emotion that takes precedence in your life. As I reflected on my emotional response to other’s perceived judgement of me, I recognized that it came from a place of fear. I no longer care what other people think and that’s the biggest gift that I can give myself on Mother’s Day and beyond.

If you’re struggling with fear and anxiety this Mother’s Day – I see you and you matter.

If you’re a single mother who’s tired on Mother’s Day – I see you and you matter.

If you’re a mother who hasn’t slept through the night in years – I see you and you matter.

If you’re an adult child struggling with how to honor your mother while balancing appropriate boundaries – I see you and you matter.

If you’re a mother who feels likes you’re not good enough or that you’re failing your kids – I see you and you matter.  

If you’re the mother of an ill child who’s not meeting milestones with their peers – you’re the real-life superheroes and I see you. You Matter. In fact, I celebrate each milestone with you, regardless of when they come.

If you’re the mother of a wayward teen, who’s a joy kill and sucking the life out of you – I see you and you matter.

If you’re the mother of adult children who don’t call nor visit – I see you and you matter. I urge you to use that love to bless one of the aforementioned mothers who are also struggling this Mother’s Day.

 Guess what? Mother’s Day is just another day. There I said it. It’s time for us to learn to manage expectations and stop seeking affirmation and validation exclusively from external sources. Don’t allow the tendency of turning your kids into an idol, rob you of joy this Mother’s Day. Your worth is not determined by how well dressed, well behaved or perfect your kids are. I urge you to choose to see the good and seek out the moments that bring you joy. For me, it’s going back to my dreams deferred and getting away from the grind of daily life. We started off doing day trips on Mother’s Day because my husband was a resident and often on call and thus attached to a pager. I hated that thing! I was tired of Mother’s Days spent at the hospital cafeteria and going to church alone with young children. My own mother lives in another state and holidays in general were always kind of lonely for me, in those early days of our marriage. I decided one Mother’s Day when my husband wasn’t on call, that all I wanted was a day with no cell phones, pagers nor distractions and the only way to get that was to travel somewhere with limited cell phone service. We ended up on a picnic on a beach in Newport, RI and that has become our family tradition. I have no expectations of gifts, perfectly cooked meals, nor the ability to sit through a brunch and actually eat my food while it’s still hot. It’s so freeing to choose to simplify this day and rather than focusing on failures, focus on my blessings. I call this intentional living. Every day I make a choice to choose joy. It’s not easy, but I urge you to look in the mirror and hold yourself accountable for your own actions. Extend yourself grace and get up every day with the intent to live your best life, today.

Click here to read an additional blog post on Intentional Parenting that I wrote last Mother’s Day!

Excerpt: 

Finding joy in this process of raising little humans, while simultaneously balancing marriage, work, travel and homeschooling can feel daunting at times. As a work from home and homeschooling mother of four active children, I constantly hear “you’ve got your hands full” while attempting to go about our daily existence. Recognizing that our life choices are outside the norm of adult life in the United States, I tend to smile, nod and keep it moving. Making a conscious decision to live intentionally requires not engaging in frivolous conversations, nor validating our family’s choices with complete strangers.

No, I’m not more patient than you, I’m not super woman and I actually wear makeup to hide the bags under my eyes from the 13 years of sleep deprivation. I’m simply a woman getting up daily “grateful for a new day with no mistakes in it, yet.” This Mother’s Day, let me challenge you to live an intentional, grace filled life and provide you some suggestions on how to go about doing so. Click here for more...

About Ruth: I’m a wife and mami of 4 active and globe-trotting kiddos. I’ve always loved a good adventure and truly believe that it’s possible to travel with kids. Join me, as I share our adventures and inspire you to get out of the house with your kiddos. Whether you’re planning a family vacation, a road trip or a trip of a lifetime to an exotic destination, I’ll share insights, trip reports and information that will inspire you. Check back often to stay up to date on things to do with kids at your next travel destination.

[anonjusticeindy-blog]

Mayor Brainard Timeline - 24 Years as Carmel Mayor is Enough

The mayor of the City of Carmel, Indiana has come under criticism for what are perceived to be inappropriate uses of his political power and unacceptable behavior up to and including sexual harassment.   This is what is BELIEVED to be a timeline of Mayor Jim “Crash” Brainard’s behavior over the last four years in office based on multiple sources, news reports and public records. ELECTION SEASON 2015 During the last primary season (Spring of 2015) the mayor pursued a relationship with a younger woman he met at a political event.  His divorce was filed 10/05/2015 in Boone County, presumably to keep it quiet and out of the local headlines.  During this time period Clerk-Treasurer candidate Christine Pauley was also a candidate for office - as were numerous city council candidates the mayor supported in order to drive out existing opposition to his liberal spending and heavy-handed government control agenda. During this same time period the mayor had access to an apartment (that may have been provided by a developer) at One One Six near 116th and College. There are questions about whether the apartment was provided to the mayor by the developer for free, was provided for use by the city or was paid for, in full, by the mayor.  Campaign finance reports show no in-kind contribution by the developer. The woman the mayor was pursuing was assisted by him in finding employment in Carmel and had access to and use of this apartment. The mayor extended an invitation for the woman to secretly accompany him on the first leg of a trip to Europe which she declines. Ultimately, the woman ended the relationship although it is believed he may have continued to pursue her (or that it could have been intermittent) and that she could have been the proximate cause for his divorce filing.  His influence over the local community, the job he helped secure and possible influence over other matters and persistent presence in the community likely being a complication or pressure point to appear loyal and grateful. A source suggested that at least two Carmel City Councilors privately scolded the mayor for his potentially embarrassing pre-divorce affair. He then turns his attention to the newly elected Clerk-Treasurer who he had supported and helped with campaign funds. He had acted as something of a mentor to candidate Christine Pauley who was new to running for office. While grateful for the mayor’s help and guidance, the Clerk-Treasurer finally decides she is not interested in the mayor romantically despite his continued interest and rejects his advances. He persists even including forwarding an adult store’s advertising e-mail to her.  Recommendations by a consultant to increase the pay for city officials are passed with the exception being the Clerk-Treasurer's recommended increase is significantly reduced.   The Clerk-Treasurer makes a claim that this is unfair and could be discrimination or a reprisal and then is viciously attacked by the mayor's long-time supporter and attack dog, city councilor Ron Carter.   The City Council then effectively moves to eliminate the Clerk-Treasurer's regular speaking time at City Council events and remove her from the dais. Also, in 2016 the Council removes the Clerk-Treasurer’s access to legal funds.  Additionally, the mayor’s personal e-mail address shows up on a list of those that had accounts that were compromised at Ashley Madison.  Ashley Madison was a dating service that catered to married people and promoted discretion.   FROM 2015 TO 2019

Carmel's debt increased by between $300 and $400 million to in excess of $1.3 billion. Carmel's debt now exceeds Fishers, Noblesville and Westfield combined. Projects include a government partnership to construct, own and manage a hotel in competition with privately owned hotels. This is pursued despite the hotel industry and lenders themselves not believing it is a good investment.  The mayor's pursuit of city financing for $5 million carousel becomes a reach too far and is rejected by the City Council.   Despite claiming his opponent was lying during the 2015 primary campaign that property taxes would go up, property taxes did indeed go up making mayor Brainard the liar. April 20, 2017:  the mayor avoids taking an alcohol/drug test after crashing his city provided vehicle requiring it be towed away. This is required of all city employees if they are involved in an accident requiring a tow away.  The Mayor quickly walks away form TV Reporters attempting to investigate. A city representative announces that the mayor is exempt from the city policy - an intolerable double-standard. Police camera footage has him acknowledging to an officer at the scene that he is required to take the test.  June 21, 2017: The IndyStar reports that Mayor Brainard’s car has sustained significant damage along one side. The mayor claims it must have been damaged while parked somewhere and suggests he will pay for repairs out of his own pocket.  Public suspects a possible accident while impaired. No parking lot video of an incident is ever pursued or released and nobody is aware of any police report being filed. On December 15, 2018, Mayor Brainard unbelievably pulls his vehicle into oncoming traffic to make a u-turn on Main Street causing an accident. He attempts this u-turn after having just exited one of the round-about intersections where it would have been very safe to just proceed around. 2019 A man named Dan Hennessey speaks to a local, well-connected political volunteer on or about January 28, 2019 about whether he'd be able to make more money working for the Brainard campaign than for the challenger's (Fred Glynn's) team.  He is advised that a meeting can be set up. By January 30, 2019 it is shared in private communications that  Hennessey will now be working for the Brainard campaign (or, getting our facts right as the ridiculous mayor demanded in recent debate, 'the consultant to the campaign'). This arrangement is reported to be for around $40,000 ($10,000 per month during the primary election campaign) - an unheard of sum of money for minor campaign work.  On or about February 3-5, 2019 a meeting takes place where Hennessey's new employer - (in effect if not in fact The Brainard Campaign) claims that Hennessey attempted to request a bribe from The Brainard Campaign in order for Glynn not to pursue the mayor’s office.  A third party, presumably innocent to what is going on, is invited to the meeting possibly to 'observe' what was likely a pre-meditated set-up. Hennessey indeed takes an "offer" to candidate Glynn, who rejects it. Hennessey contacts at least one other person to pressure Glynn to take the Brainard campaign's 'bribe'.  Fred Glynn continues to reject being paid to sit out the election. Some days, perhaps approximately a week later, Hennessey advises Glynn that he is going to make more money working for the Brainard team.  He does not advise Glynn that his deal with Brainard's team was struck up to two weeks prior. April, 2019: It is reported that the IRS is investigating the city's handling of a bond issue used to finance The Barrington which has filed for bankruptcy protection and has many elderly people in jeopardy of losing hundreds of thousands of dollars each. The bond issue is from before the current Clerk-Treasurer was elected. A woman hired during the current Clerk-Treasurer's tenure in that office is terminated. The mayor immediately suggests he might hire the woman elsewhere. Reports circulate that the woman was terminated for violating department policy on sharing documents - possibly by colluding with Mayor Brainard directly to bypass normal department processes. The Clerk-Treasurer, having decided to not pursue a further elected office in the City of Carmel and approaching a time where she can be free from reprisal, levies a harrassment claim against Mayor Brainard and provides evidence of him forwarding inappropriate, unprofessional material to her including an e-mail regarding sex toys. On-line, another woman publicly suggests she, a single mother, had an 'uncomfortable' one-on-one meeting the mayor initiated supposedly to address her concerns about the city.  She eventually deletes the post to ‘avoid drama’ but then she shares the next day that somebody suspicious drove by her house and took pictures of her home and a political yard sign.

Come to your own conclusions, but this is a lot of drama and perhaps it really is time for a change in city leadership?

[meggannn]

LOL YOUR ROOMMATE?? I can't stop laughing omg

god did i ever share the full story of what happened with my housemate last year? i think i bitched about her a little bit but here’s the full write-up of my six months with that housemate. unedited and probably full of errors and discrepancies sorry cause im going off entirely from memory

i’ve now moved out of this apartment, but i was there for a year with three other girls. two of them i got along with fine, and we introduced ourselves to each other before we moved in because that’s common courtesy to see if we get along right? but basically before any of us could talk or interview candidates for the last spot in the apartment, this girl, i’m making up a name and calling her emily, this random girl named emily basically came in and signed on for the spot on the lease without talking to any of us. uh, okay? so we eventually all get in a group chat and talk and introduce ourselves and plan to move in. day one:  emily moved in before me and i moved in a few hours later. i walk in and see the kitchen and she’s already covered the fridge with magnets and pictures and paper clippings featuring…. herself. like, a few of them had her friends, but most of the pictures were of her. basically. am i crazy or is that fucking weird? so from the get-go she just seemed……. if not privileged (which i also knew she was later), then definitely some sort of weird type of entitled but i couldn’t tell if it was maybe just cultural differences? (she was russian but had grown up in the states. idk)

anyway. she had this boyfriend who would come over occasionally, it was no problem since we didn’t talk and just waved hi to each other occasionally. but from the first week she and another housemate who lived on the far end of the apartment were both having trouble sleeping because someone else on the floor was blaring their tv loudly all hours of the night in the room next door. after several weeks of not being able to sleep through the night, they’d pretty much had enough and managed to track down whose apartment it was, and it turned out to be this elderly black woman’s apartment. i don’t really know if the woman understood why they were so upset because i think she might have been going slightly senile as well, so i think maybe the tv, or the volume, was something she wasn’t entirely aware she was doing? but the other housemate, i’ll call her veronica (who is more chill but was still upset) understood that this was probably not a fight they wanted to pick. veronica noticed that the elderly woman had a middle-aged male visitor, who looked like family, come visit the woman a few times a week and take care of her/take out the trash etc, so veronica decided to wait until she saw the visitor again to talk to him about lowering the volume or turning the tv off, or maybe getting his relative headphones or something. but emily, like….. kept pushing it every single night. every single night for the first month or so she’d stomp across the floor and rap on the door loud enough to wake up the entire floor (the walls were thin and it wasn’t a big building). and most of the time the woman didn’t respond, but there was one notable time someone else got fed up enough to wake up at 2am and yell at emily (deservedly so) for waking up the whole hall. all of which i heard very clearly because my room was next to the main door to out apt.

things escalated when i overheard emily talking to her friend on the phone about the situation and then she mentioned that in retaliation, she went over in the middle of the night and put vaseline on the woman’s door handle. i was kind of stunned and disgusted that a grown ass adult (she’s at least a few years older than me, i’d guess late 20′s/early 30′s?) would do something like that???? but anyway a few nights later iirc, once again in the middle of the night, i was woken up by a shouting match down the hall because apparently the male relative had come back to check in on who he said was his mother, and HE WAS PISSED, UNDERSTANDABLY SO, AT FINDING MY ROOMMATE IN THE MIDDLE OF PUTTING VASELINE ON THE FLOOR CREVICE UNDER THE DOOR. LIKE. THAT’S NOT JUST PETTY BUT REAL FUCKING DANGEROUS TO DO TO AN ELDERLY WOMAN. he basically shouted at her and she kept talking about how she can’t sleep for months because of the noise, and whatever, but she stomped back to our apartment and they had this argument loudly at the door (remember, my room was right next to the front door). i listened to it for a couple minutes wondering if she would like, acknowledge what she did was wrong? and it became clear that she was so focused on the noise she wasn’t listening to this dude, so i came out and i tried to be a voice of reason. the guy was understandably really pissed that she would do something like that and i apologized for her and said she was wrong to do that (she had stomped off back to her room meanwhile) and he seemed grateful to talk to someone who wasn’t batshit crazy in the meantime so he mentioned that he had grown up in this building all his life before moving out so it hurt to see someone treat his mother this way who had lived here for 50 years or something. and after that i was just thinking like, jesus, this is so not the kind of fight you want to have with a family like this as a white woman in a gentrified apartment complex. like at some point you need to realize this is not your fucking place and if you must settle things, do it civilly or just dip out entirely.

i think emily eventually apologized and he accepted and they found out that the tv wasn’t even coming from the woman’s room at all, but from someone on the floor above who THEY also had had problems with for months.

veronica was away on a trip i think during this climax, but before, while it was still escalating, i was talking with veronica and veronica mentioned she and emily had bitched about the noise to each other often, but veronica said she drew the line when emily basically started making her complaints race-themed ever since she found out the elderly woman was black. etc the complaints turned from “it’s too loud” to “this neighborhood is so ghetto” and “that’s what black ppl are like” and stuff like that. veronica wasn’t cool with that, so she planned on handling any other complaints herself directly so she could resolve things like a normal person, but ever since veronica mentioned that i knew emily was a pos

emily also complained about people partying/drinking on the street outside till ~11pm, which imo isn’t too unreasonable, like normal people do, and basically being too loud or whatever. on some level i get it cause she had to go to sleep early to go to work early, but also at some point i was just wondering how she functioned as a human being in the real world

ANYWAY THE STORY I TELL AT PARTIES IS THIS ONE, THE ONE IN WHICH SHE LEAVES (i will try to keep this as short as possible while still giving you all the details you need to understand just how fucking weird it was):

in early november, emily group messaged everyone asking if her boyfriend could come live with us. to her credit she said she wouldn’t do it unless everyone was ok, and she waited to hear back from all of us. i was out of town at the time but i remember being really put off by this idea and i was going to say no, when i noticed that my two other housemates had ALREADY said yes in the chat. just like that. i was stunned. what? like, no follow-up questions or “we dont even really know him” or “how is this gonna work”? were they fucking insane?

i messaged her privately saying i really wasn’t comfortable with it, for xyz reasons. among those being 1) rent, because nowhere did she offer to split the rent five ways instead of four (they were basically going to split her room between them, which, no). 2) fridge/living space, which was small enough with four people to one apartment as it is, and 3) just overall “i dont fucking know him” atmosphere. she messaged back saying she understood, and i got to asking why this was so important to her to do now, because she mentioned she wanted to do it “asap” if we’d said yes.

and this is where my “no” turned into “hell fucking no.” she told me this:

in response to my question of if she’d want to put him on the lease, she said no, she wouldn’t want her boyfriend on the lease in case “something happens so she could just tell him to leave” (raising my question: what, exactly, do you expect to happen? maybe the landlord, who lives in the building, finding out someone’s living here illegally? bc THAT WOULD DO IT FOR ME)

she was marrying him in december which is why she wanted it to happen “soon” so they wouldnt be living apart. i asked why she couldnt just wait until the lease was up to do all this, to which she said:

her boyfriend’s green card (he was russian) had expired so he was now paying month to month and that’s when i realized, oh. bitch he’s using you for a green card marriage and you’re trying to inconvenience all of us instead of owning your life like an adult, or something

at some point during the conversation she like tried to bribe me with a couple hundred extra dollars per month “to cover the cost of the extra utlities/wifi/inconvenience,” which i politely declined. this was when i said basically “look i never got the sense you particularly liked living here (massive understatement) and i think that it’d work out best if you moved out, which you’re clearly already planning to do”

and she did start looking immediately. at some point while she was looking i overheard her talking to veronica mentioning that he was a huge fan of putin and she’d asked him to like, politely, stop?, lmao because she didn’t like his entire yknow politics, and he basically said “i’m sorry, i can’t betray my personal/national identity, i just really believe in putin” or whatever the fuck and i thought to myself, this bitch is marrying him anyway for some godforsaken reason

i don’t know why i hoped that she would be any more considerate moving out than when she moved in, but somehow i was still surprised when the sublet she picked out was someone she never introduced us to or mentioned before, she literally just said “hey here’s your new housemate and when she’s moving in” and dropped us a phone number and facebook page.

one last thing: while emily was moving out, veronica mentioned to me that she was really pleased i stood up to her because she felt massively uncomfortable with the situation too. i asked why she didn’t say something, and she said she talked to emily privately airing out her problems, and emily had managed to talk her into accepting that sort-of bribe privately off message, and emily told her ‘just say yes’ in the chat, so she did and was kind of kicking herself for it after. (our other housemate was off doing fuck knows what at this point; she was gone for weeks on end leaving us to take care of her guinea pigs for her with little to no warning.)

but then, veronica says, the big thing that astounds her is that this wasn’t even the same boyfriend who she’d had when she’d moved in. six months had passed by this point. SHE HAD BEEN DATING GREEN CARD GUY FOR LIKE, THREE MONTHS WHEN SHE DROPPED THIS ON US

and then she moved to fucking harlem, one of the yknow most diverse neighborhoods in the city known particularly for its black heritage, so i guess have fun honey

(her replacement somehow turned out to be just as bad as she was, so you can imagine why i was eager for my lease to end in may)