The inner workings of the Izatar Clan was not kind to a half-blood mongrel bastard; Celosia knew this from first-hand experience. But she also knew from first-hand experience the importance of self-preservation – the skill to cut off her pride, to bury any indignity, to swallow any dreams or hopes. A corpse cannot do anything, but alive, only being alive can there be possibilities (and one day, she’ll show them, they’ll see, she’ll get out of here).
So when her guardian steals the meager allowance the Izatar grudgingly eeks out to her, when Grandmama, the head of the clan, sweeps past her in the hallways without acknowledging her existence, or when Mama fell into one of those fits and screamed how everything was her fault for being born, Cel only stared harder at her shoes, and studied harder, trained harder, hated more.
When Cel was at the age of 6, Mama remarried – it was a political marriage – and conceived. Cel didn’t even need to eavesdrop on the servants; quite a number of people (bullies, family) were quite happy to describe to her in detail how –disposable- she would be once there was a legitimate heir.
When Cel was 6, her baby brother suffocated in his sleep when he was 2 months old.
When they asked her, with hard voices and harder fists and belt buckles, if she knew anything about it, she shook her head in denial and stared harder at her shoes.
#2
Cel knew for a fact that she had never asked any of them to follow her, first on that crazy suicidal run across the country, and then the gang wars, and finally, rebuilding the world. She was sure she would have remembered, if she had asked, but the once she mentioned it to the rest of Flare, Cherie and Marie had called her a liar (but in an affectionate tone).
#3
Celosia had once told Cherie that she wasn’t here to prove anything to anyone, that the Izatar clan can think whatever the hell they like; it meant nothing to her.
Marie had sauntered in, arched an eyebrow in a distinct Marie-kind-of-way and asked why the hell the two of them were hiding from the rest of the staff, why the bloody hell the paperwork still wasn’t done, and what in the damned bloody hell was Cel blabbering on about now.
Cherie had laughed softly, and said, “Don’t you know our fearless leader is prone to wishful thinking?” before guiding Marie out the door with a undecipherable look at Cel.
#4
“So. Celosia.” Cherie tapped one long fingernail on top of the unblemished oak desk. Cel swallowed, with difficulty. It wasn’t fair that her Beta could make her feel this way – who took over the world, eh? Who does all the paperwork, hmm?
Cherie’s amber eyes narrowed, almost as if she could tell what Cel was thinking. But that was foolishness – even with the Lost Technology, telepathy was not even remotedly possible. But…this is Cherie we’re talking about. A voice, which sounded suspiciously like Marie, reminded her. Just in case, Cel carefully erased any rebellious thoughts and looked properly remorseful.
“Celosia, my Alpha,” Cherie begun again. Cel winced – to use her full name, along with her title…Cherie must be very upset. “An outrageous rumor has reached my ears.”
Ohhhh, whichever traitor snitched on her was going to pay. And pay. And pay and pay and pay. Snitched. To our Beta. …Great. Even her mind was making fun of her.
Cherie’s fingernails clattered once more on the table-top, ominously. “Some of Flare’s guards, ourguards, have been…put out of commission.”
“How unfortunate.” Cel replied.
“Yes indeed.” Cherie’s eyes were so narrowed they were barely slits. “But funny, how some of the guards claimed that you were the person who put them out of commission.”
A good offense was the best defense. “Nonsense. Are you saying you trust their word over mine?”
“No, of course not, my Alpha.” The fingernails clattered. Again. “But their injuries were very similar to your…habits, shall we say? And we all know how distinct your style is…” She trailed off. “Are you sure you know nothing of this incident?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Or that they had made several racist, sexist comments recently?”
“Nope.”
“Or that people say they had almost raped a young maid?”
“…Nope.”
The dead silence in the room was so thick Cel could cut it with a knife. After what seemed an eternity, Cherie leaned back in the armchair and gathered up the reports on the desk. “Well then. I’ll file the appropriate reports. Thank you for clarifying, my Alpha.”
Cel nodded back, in what she hoped was a regally manner. “Any time. Now, if there’s nothing else, I still have to speak to Marie about the Aquacity reconstruction sites.”
She was almost at the door, before Cherie spoke again. “Heads up, Cel."
A small bottle flew across the room, and Cel snatched it out the air. All Purpose Hand Lotion, For Cleanliness and Moisturizer. Cel turned a quizzical look at Cherie.
“Dried blood is very hard to get out from under fingernails. I have always found this hand lotion to be a great help. Now, there is nothing else. Good day, Cel.”
#5: The Exception
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and already the orphanage was in an uproar. Ellen and Bobby had gotten into a fight over who was suppose to use the bathroom first, none of the kids could find matching socks which prompted an outcry, breakfast had burned on the stove which set off the smoke alarm, and Hugues and Payne were doing…something in the garden. Cel didn’t look too closely.
With a sigh, and the knowledge that no one else was going to do it, Cel sorted out the bathroom schedules, and convinced the kids that mismatched socks were ‘the ice’. Well, Nik said ‘the ice’ part – sometimes Cel feels like a fossil among these kids and their newfangled phrases – and he also had the good grace to turn off the smoke alarm, and rescue what was left of breakfast. Some fast thinking, and faster cooking on Cel’s part ensured that everyone was fed with some edible, and some banging on strategically-important areas of the wall near the garden broke up Hugues and Payne’s…thing.
The day had barely started, and Cel was already exhausted. The rest of the day, week, month, year was not any better.
Cel used to think she had some very…unique conversations during her stint as the Alpha of Flare, but she now stood corrected. Now she didn’t even think twice about sprouting off statements like “Hands are not for hitting other people, or sticking down our pants” or even, “Get inside now before Payne makes all of you into meat pies and have Hugues sell you to soul-sucking corporate markets so that not even Nik can steal you guys back. No offense, Nik darling."
She used to think soul-withering meetings with Cherie on accounting was the ultimate trial upon her patience and tested her mettle as a ‘responsible adult’, but that was only because she had never had to explain the process of washing hands before touching food twenty times before each meal, snack, or quickie.
She used to have servants who pandered to her every need (well, technically, still had servants, since she’s still the Alpha of Flare and all that so they’re still hers, but that’s the downside of being ‘mysteriously disappeared’) and now she picked up after three adults and eight brats who all have perfectly functioning limbs and know damn well the flyers do not go on top of the kitchen counter but on the side table, and the useable pens go into the third side-drawer from the left, and all articles of clothing is to be left in their respective owners’ rooms, not left out willy-nilly wherever they please.
She used to be the ruler of the world, not to put too fine a point on the matter. She used to command armies and played politics like a spider casting its web. Now she worry if the bills were all paid on time, and how they need to go shopping for school supplies and the meat is on sale on Thursday which means they should eat the left-over casserole tonight.
When Cherie finally tracks her down years later, almost a decade after she had left, and begs her to resume control of Flare, and Cel does, and they finally resolve that whole mess, Cherie will ask Cel what Cel has been doing the past ten years, and Cel will tell her that she had been experiencing the best years of her life.
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regna
Mirai - Prompt 02
Date: 2010-01-04 07:22 am (UTC)The inner workings of the Izatar Clan was not kind to a half-blood mongrel bastard; Celosia knew this from first-hand experience. But she also knew from first-hand experience the importance of self-preservation – the skill to cut off her pride, to bury any indignity, to swallow any dreams or hopes. A corpse cannot do anything, but alive, only being alive can there be possibilities (and one day, she’ll show them, they’ll see, she’ll get out of here).
So when her guardian steals the meager allowance the Izatar grudgingly eeks out to her, when Grandmama, the head of the clan, sweeps past her in the hallways without acknowledging her existence, or when Mama fell into one of those fits and screamed how everything was her fault for being born, Cel only stared harder at her shoes, and studied harder, trained harder, hated more.
When Cel was at the age of 6, Mama remarried – it was a political marriage – and conceived. Cel didn’t even need to eavesdrop on the servants; quite a number of people (bullies, family) were quite happy to describe to her in detail how –disposable- she would be once there was a legitimate heir.
When Cel was 6, her baby brother suffocated in his sleep when he was 2 months old.
When they asked her, with hard voices and harder fists and belt buckles, if she knew anything about it, she shook her head in denial and stared harder at her shoes.
#2
Cel knew for a fact that she had never asked any of them to follow her, first on that crazy suicidal run across the country, and then the gang wars, and finally, rebuilding the world. She was sure she would have remembered, if she had asked, but the once she mentioned it to the rest of Flare, Cherie and Marie had called her a liar (but in an affectionate tone).
#3
Celosia had once told Cherie that she wasn’t here to prove anything to anyone, that the Izatar clan can think whatever the hell they like; it meant nothing to her.
Marie had sauntered in, arched an eyebrow in a distinct Marie-kind-of-way and asked why the hell the two of them were hiding from the rest of the staff, why the bloody hell the paperwork still wasn’t done, and what in the damned bloody hell was Cel blabbering on about now.
Cherie had laughed softly, and said, “Don’t you know our fearless leader is prone to wishful thinking?” before guiding Marie out the door with a undecipherable look at Cel.
#4
“So. Celosia.” Cherie tapped one long fingernail on top of the unblemished oak desk. Cel swallowed, with difficulty. It wasn’t fair that her Beta could make her feel this way – who took over the world, eh? Who does all the paperwork, hmm?
Cherie’s amber eyes narrowed, almost as if she could tell what Cel was thinking. But that was foolishness – even with the Lost Technology, telepathy was not even remotedly possible. But…this is Cherie we’re talking about. A voice, which sounded suspiciously like Marie, reminded her. Just in case, Cel carefully erased any rebellious thoughts and looked properly remorseful.
“Celosia, my Alpha,” Cherie begun again. Cel winced – to use her full name, along with her title…Cherie must be very upset. “An outrageous rumor has reached my ears.”
Ohhhh, whichever traitor snitched on her was going to pay. And pay. And pay and pay and pay. Snitched. To our Beta. …Great. Even her mind was making fun of her.
Cherie’s fingernails clattered once more on the table-top, ominously. “Some of Flare’s guards, our guards, have been…put out of commission.”
“How unfortunate.” Cel replied.
“Yes indeed.” Cherie’s eyes were so narrowed they were barely slits. “But funny, how some of the guards claimed that you were the person who put them out of commission.”
A good offense was the best defense. “Nonsense. Are you saying you trust their word over mine?”
“No, of course not, my Alpha.” The fingernails clattered. Again. “But their injuries were very similar to your…habits, shall we say? And we all know how distinct your style is…” She trailed off. “Are you sure you know nothing of this incident?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Or that they had made several racist, sexist comments recently?”
“Nope.”
“Or that people say they had almost raped a young maid?”
“…Nope.”
The dead silence in the room was so thick Cel could cut it with a knife. After what seemed an eternity, Cherie leaned back in the armchair and gathered up the reports on the desk. “Well then. I’ll file the appropriate reports. Thank you for clarifying, my Alpha.”
Cel nodded back, in what she hoped was a regally manner. “Any time. Now, if there’s nothing else, I still have to speak to Marie about the Aquacity reconstruction sites.”
She was almost at the door, before Cherie spoke again. “Heads up, Cel."
A small bottle flew across the room, and Cel snatched it out the air. All Purpose Hand Lotion, For Cleanliness and Moisturizer. Cel turned a quizzical look at Cherie.
“Dried blood is very hard to get out from under fingernails. I have always found this hand lotion to be a great help. Now, there is nothing else. Good day, Cel.”
#5: The Exception
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and already the orphanage was in an uproar. Ellen and Bobby had gotten into a fight over who was suppose to use the bathroom first, none of the kids could find matching socks which prompted an outcry, breakfast had burned on the stove which set off the smoke alarm, and Hugues and Payne were doing…something in the garden. Cel didn’t look too closely.
With a sigh, and the knowledge that no one else was going to do it, Cel sorted out the bathroom schedules, and convinced the kids that mismatched socks were ‘the ice’. Well, Nik said ‘the ice’ part – sometimes Cel feels like a fossil among these kids and their newfangled phrases – and he also had the good grace to turn off the smoke alarm, and rescue what was left of breakfast. Some fast thinking, and faster cooking on Cel’s part ensured that everyone was fed with some edible, and some banging on strategically-important areas of the wall near the garden broke up Hugues and Payne’s…thing.
The day had barely started, and Cel was already exhausted. The rest of the day, week, month, year was not any better.
Cel used to think she had some very…unique conversations during her stint as the Alpha of Flare, but she now stood corrected. Now she didn’t even think twice about sprouting off statements like “Hands are not for hitting other people, or sticking down our pants” or even, “Get inside now before Payne makes all of you into meat pies and have Hugues sell you to soul-sucking corporate markets so that not even Nik can steal you guys back. No offense, Nik darling."
She used to think soul-withering meetings with Cherie on accounting was the ultimate trial upon her patience and tested her mettle as a ‘responsible adult’, but that was only because she had never had to explain the process of washing hands before touching food twenty times before each meal, snack, or quickie.
She used to have servants who pandered to her every need (well, technically, still had servants, since she’s still the Alpha of Flare and all that so they’re still hers, but that’s the downside of being ‘mysteriously disappeared’) and now she picked up after three adults and eight brats who all have perfectly functioning limbs and know damn well the flyers do not go on top of the kitchen counter but on the side table, and the useable pens go into the third side-drawer from the left, and all articles of clothing is to be left in their respective owners’ rooms, not left out willy-nilly wherever they please.
She used to be the ruler of the world, not to put too fine a point on the matter. She used to command armies and played politics like a spider casting its web. Now she worry if the bills were all paid on time, and how they need to go shopping for school supplies and the meat is on sale on Thursday which means they should eat the left-over casserole tonight.
When Cherie finally tracks her down years later, almost a decade after she had left, and begs her to resume control of Flare, and Cel does, and they finally resolve that whole mess, Cherie will ask Cel what Cel has been doing the past ten years, and Cel will tell her that she had been experiencing the best years of her life.