but sometimes there are secrets trying to understand people

Because the previous post was getting out of hand.

My WIP is set in a sort of alternate 1900s Europe, where several young protagonists, royalty and otherwise, become entangled in the broader political situation but--perhaps more importantly--grapple with their own complicated interpersonal conflicts. Lots of character development, lots of dialogue, with a classic children’s story tone because that’s my literary background.

His father doesn't hold anything against Mikaiah, but he's depressed and emotionally distant and very, very critical and demanding and obsessed with appearances and success. There are two half-sisters and a full brother significantly older (seven to seventeen years) than Mikaiah. His eldest sister, Ayra, is too busy being support for their father, and his brother, Josiah, is a mini version of their father but with a lot of hostility toward Mikaiah, whom he blames for their mother's death. The second sister, Ateva, is the closest thing Mikaiah has to a maternal figure, and they're close. Josiah's companion, Tamett, who's from a large family, is more brotherly than Josiah is.

And somehow the young Mikaiah is a pretty happy child nonetheless. He loves animals, especially elephants. He'd rather draw pictures or play pretend than practice useful princely skills. He smiles too much. He forgets protocol sometimes and gets distracted by childish whims. In short, he acts like a normal child of his age, and that is not acceptable in this family. He frustrates and baffles his father, who'd rather not think about how much Mikaiah's personality resembles that of his late mother.

And then everyone starts leaving. When Mikaiah is around six, Josiah goes away to school in another country, taking Tamett with him. A few years later, Ateva gets married and also leaves the country. Their father doesn't know what to do with an eight-year-old who now has no one to keep him out of the way, so he sends Mikaiah away to school too, much earlier than is customary.

School is a struggle. Mikaiah is homesick and doesn't adjust to the environment well. He's in the same country as Josiah, but they go to separate schools at first, and they don't see each other much, and there's not much connection between them whenever they do. The royal family of Corege are relatives, and they try to be kind whenever Josiah and Mikaiah stay with them for the holidays--since their father never sends for them--but these visits don't last long.

And so it goes until Mikaiah is around nine, and war breaks out, and now his homeland and his current location are on opposite sides. The brothers finally get to go home, but that just means getting transferred to a different school for Mikaiah. A military school. For over four long years. He hates it. He barely sees his family, and Ateva's husband's country is now their enemy, so he can't write to her anymore.

When the war ends, the Liennese monarchy collapses, and Mikaiah loses his father, title, and homeland in rapid succession. Corege agrees to let him and Josiah live there again. Mikaiah, nearly fourteen, is dumped in another boarding school, while his brother, not quite of age himself, is now his guardian but doesn't stay in much contact.

So I think you can probably see why the sweet, light-hearted, elephant-obsessed little boy you're more familiar with will have changed by then into something almost unrecognizable as a young teenager. He has spent most of his childhood being abandoned and rejected, with very little stability. Every time he connects with someone, they leave his life. The people who should be connecting with him refuse to. He starts to become difficult. Starts to act out--that at least gets Josiah's attention. They get into arguments that turn into screaming matches when Josiah refuses to let Mikaiah go and live with Ateva. It's a political impossibility, and Mikaiah knows it, but he's also fourteen and doesn't really care. He just wants to be around someone whom he knows genuinely cares about him, and he has it in his head that Ateva is the last person in his life who fitted that description.

And what becomes of him from there? I don't know yet.

(Starman 1994 #60, 80)

I am not going to attempt to meticulously map out the dates of the entire series issue by issue, because that would be impossible and pointless. But I can piece together the clues given in the narrative about the passage of time.

The cosmic rod emits a lot of light, and even with the protective goggles that Jack wears, having to work up close to the rod or use it at enhanced levels of intensity quite possibly would take a physical toll.

In light of this...Jack's father often used a headache as an excuse for his absences while acting as Starman, but maybe sometimes it wasn't just an excuse. Ted's costume has zero eye protection, which might have something to do with the fact that he's wearing glasses by the early 1950s.

(Starman 1994 #23, 40, 57)

Friend B's husband Can't Possibly watch the toddler, because he "might have to work late," which, according to Friend A's husband who works with him, is not really true.

Friend A thinks Friend B should know that her husband isn't being honest with her and acknowledges the conflict this could cause but still really wants to tell her, and I agree that she deserves to know but I don't think this is quite the way to do it and I feel stuck in the middle and really don't want to be involved in this drama.

Friend A announced last night that actually she might have to attend a city event tonight (work reasons). Tonight. The night that she specifically chose as a time when she would be available. She's going to let us know. When/if we will actually receive this information is unclear.

It's unclear if Friend A's husband will be available to watch the toddler (will he be going to the fireworks event too?).

It's not that Friend B bringing the toddler isn't okay; it's that she won't have much of an evening off because we will spend our entire time wrangling him.

Friend B still wants to get together tonight even if Friend A can't make it.

Friend B will likely be blaming Friend A for being flaky (true enough) while ignoring that her own husband is a major chunk of the difficulty himself and I might have to try to tactfully navigate that conversation.

I have no idea what this evening is going to be like, who will be here, how much time I'll have to adjust plans if necessary, whether I'll need to try to toddler-proof my house against a child who is Into Everything.

I just suggested that if Friend A has to go to this event, maybe we should all just do that instead. That way we all still get to see each other, and it would be more fun for the toddler (and easier on me not having to hide half the items in my living room and worry about messes). We'll see what people think.

(Starman 1994 #72)

Ted Knight's last words to his son Jack before his death are to ask him to "lie a bit to make me sound 'cool'" when telling stories about him to his grandson Teddy.

A very characteristic request from a man who once joined a club for liars and has spent much of his life managing his image, rewriting his own story for the public, hiding who he really is from even the people closest to him. Moments before he's about to die saving his city as an alternative to succumbing to cancer, he's still worried that his grandson won't admire his memory without some embellishment.

Jack has shown himself to not be above a little revisionist history himself, but his reply, "I won't have to lie," is fully sincere. Teddy is going to hear the whole truth about his grandfather.

After nearly four years of hanging on my wall, the glue of the frame that held @scarvenartist's portrait of Antavia just...gave up and everything that wasn't the backing hit the floor.

Surprisingly, the frame itself and even the glass are unharmed. Just detached. Going to have to evaluate whether it's worth trying to reglue (with what sort?) or if a replacement is in order.