#adele hall

QUICK FACTS…

Full Name: Adele Paris Hall (Arthur Georgi Hall)

Pronouns: she/her

Title: None (formerly, in reverse order: Queen of the State of Georgia, King of the State of Georgia, Prince of the State of Georgia, Heir Apparent)

Gender: Transfemale

Sexuality: Demisexual

Birthday (Age at start): October 8th, 2157 (53)

Parents: Georgi Hall (deceased), Alsona (Monroe) Hall (deceased)

Siblings: Albert Ezra (missing)

Spouse: Clara Rayas-Hall (deceased)

Children: Wesley Alejandro (missing), Lake Norman (deceased), Jillian "Piers" (adoptive)

Notable physical features: freckles, almost always wearing red lipstick/nails, frail but holds herself high

Personality: cold, distrusting, brilliant, stubborn, proper, demanding, fearless

Extended Intro...

Queen Adele Hall is the adoptive mother of Piers Hall, and the former Queen of the State of Georgia. Adele grew up in the palace, training and preparing to become the next monarch of her family's line. When Adele was 13, she would meet her future wife, Clara "Claire" Carmen Rayas, the youngest daughter of two wealthy businessmen from Florida. The two would marry three months after Adele's 18th birthday (Clara was five months older). Only four years later, the beloved Georgi Hall would die relatively young from a heart attack, and a 22 year-old Adele (then still Arthur) ascended to the throne. She was coming off an era of high prosperity and growth for everyone in the state, and knew she'd have to live up to the standards set by her father. Unfortunately, Adele's life would be full of tragedies of both her own making and unavoidable causes. Her and Clara's son, Wesley was born sickly, and she reached out to an up-and-coming geneticist and his assistant. Adele would spend the next 10 or so years under his thumb, before barely escaping back to the Palace with her life. Clara did not survive, but Adele managed to rescue her now two sons, Lake and Wesley, along with Dr. Panya. About a year later, she adopted Piers, her last child. After the loss of her wife combined with her paranoia, the now-Queen grew cold and cruel, often lashing out on both her friends, children, and the citizens she served. For the next 19 years, Adele would develop the reputation as the Bloody Queen, with a record amount of executions occurring, along with several state-sponsored attacks she blamed on terrorist groups. When Piers turned 18, there were immediate calls for her abdication, and reluctantly (and due to her health beginning to fail) she did so in November of 2210.

WIP PAGE

Pacing the narrow office, Piers recited their speech again and again, rewording it every time. They’d already rewritten it three times on paper and typed it up twice. The wording was slightly off, and after Grady and Adele got up their ass about not giving one at their Coronation, Piers wanted this one to be perfect. 

The books on the walls distracted them from their thoughts. They ran their fingers down the spines as they paced back and forth. Pausing, Piers randomly pulled an older looking book from a series, peeing at the faded gold lettering of the title.

Beauty and the Beast.

Very funny. It slid perfectly back into place as they continued browsing the rest of the series, all fairytales they knew by heart. Adele used to read them to Wesley, to Lake, to Piers every night when they were younger. She’d always start with them, the youngest, sitting on the floor beside their bed and reading until they fell asleep. She’d slip out of the room, and head to Lake’s room

After Wesley and Lake had died, she’d sit by their bed, reading until she fell asleep as well.

Their hip bumped against the desk chair, and Piers apathetically looked at the pile of proposals. Adele had left them there for them, waiting to be edited, proofread, and proposed to the Council, who’d just send it back to the start. They had to get the Council to approve at least a few. They had to establish their footing, had to establish the people could trust them to do something for the people.

The big rolling chair creaked as they plopped down, spinning in a circle and staring at the ceiling. Avoidance was their favorite tactic. If they ignored it long enough, everything would go away, right? 

A noise sounded just outside the study.

Piers jerked upright, spinning around in the chair to face the door. Nothing. It was just their imagination-

The knob jiggled from the outside, then someone knocked on the door once, then a pause, then twice again in quick succession.

Mom.

They hopped up from their chair, heading to the door and unlocking it. Adele hugged them as soon as they got the door open.

She still dolled herself up, with her perfect blonde ringlets and one of her old dresses, but her face seemed even more tired and worn than it had just the afternoon prior, which they hadn’t thought was possible.

“Marcie said you needed to stay in your room, in bed.” Piers chastised her and she dismissed them, with a wave of her hand.

“Please. Just because she told me I needed to be there doesn’t mean I’m actually going to stay there. I get bored. Besides, as I’ve told you before, I’m gonna wear my old dresses if I can fit into them again. Estrogen made me gain so much weight and it’s strange being able to fit into these again.”

Piers let her inside, and locked the door behind her. She used the wall to stabilize herself, dragging her fingers down the spines of the books like they had. As they sat down in their chair, she came up behind them, leaning heavily on the desk.

“Jilly-bean, I may not be the most physically sound, but I can still think. Is there anything I can help you with?” Adele nodded towards the stack of proposals, as they pulled one off the top, busying themself with it because they were tired of going over what they were going to say.

“I’m good, mom.” They brushed her off, and she sighed.

“I started most of these. I can help revise what you’ve added.” She tapped the proposal they were working on with a perfectly manicured red nail. Her gray eyes scanned the paper, then she silently pointed to a sentence. They read over it, realizing it was phrased wrong, and scribbled it out with a huff. It was relieving that she was still mentally sharp, but also annoying as hell.

“I can do this myself.”

“You need my help, apparently.” She pointed to another error.

“You’re not Queen anymore. This is my job. Step back, and don’t read over my shoulder.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you do your job.” Finally, Adele backed up. Taking a seat in a plush chair in a recessed portion of the wall, she hummed to herself, running her fingers over the red velvet of the seat. Piers knew she wasn’t trying to bother them on purpose, but they were trying to separate themself from her reign, and her hovering over their shoulder was not the way to do that.

“Did you write up what you're going to say-”

“Yes. It’s on my lens and saved and ready.”

“Good. Are you excited to meet everyone? There’s a lot of notable people here, probably more than you’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah. There’s a lot of people.”  Piers ignored her, beginning to rewrite what she’d pointed out. They now wanted to finish this before Grady came to get them.

“Rene is coming, no? I didn’t check if he was or not before I lost access to my files. My lens got logged out and I haven’t bothered to log it back in. He hasn’t been here in years.” Adele asked, and Piers paused.

“President Dubois? Did you know him?”

“Vaguely. Marcie’s little brother is his secretary. I think I’m going back to bed.” She was hiding something.

Her face contorted into a grimace, as she shakily stood, leaning on the arm of her chair. Piers leapt to their feet, rushing to make sure she didn’t fall. 

“Is that all?” They pushed further, and she snapped at them.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Mom, it’s imp-”

Without warning, Adele grabbed their ear, pinching it between her sharp nails, dragging them down to look her in the eyes. Steely gray met venomous green. The scent of her sickly sweet perfume overwhelmed them, and they choked a little.

“What did I say?”

Piers remained silent, causing her to pinch harder. Neither of them wanted to give.

“Tell me!” She demanded.

They finally relented, “You don’t want to talk about it…”

Finally, her grip released, and they jerked away, backing up to the desk. Sitting in their chair, they rubbed their ear, turning their back to her and trying not to get upset. She came up behind them, spinning their chair just a little bit, and leaving a kiss on their right cheek, the unscarred one.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

She waited for them to respond, realized they wouldn’t talk, and left without another word. The door clicked shut behind her.

Piers was left recoiling, resting their head in their palms and taking deep breaths to clear their nose of the smell of her apple perfume. It left them sick to their stomach. Adele had something to hide about President Dubois, and they really didn’t want to try and weasel it out of her again. The only move they had left was to talk to the President himself.

Someone knocked on the door again, three short raps, evenly spaced.

“I’m coming…” They closed everything for the day, setting the proposal back in the stack, before grabbing their half-mask off the desk along with a small folder of backup information, in case their lens decided to die. Grady stood just outside the door. She took one look at them, and her expression changed to worry.

“What’s up?”

Piers sighed, pulling the gold and navy mask on, and fluffing their hair to hide the string, “Mom’s…acting weird again. She came by. Is everyone else here?”

“Yeah…hold on you have lipstick on your cheek” Grady reached up, rubbing a spot on their cheek with her thumb. Rolling their eyes, they swatted her hand away. She reached up, as if to fix their hair yet again, but didn’t. “Are you gonna be okay, Piers? I’m here for you, and I’ll be in the room with you.”

“I’m gonna force myself to be.”

The duo headed down to the Great Forrest room, where they found Piers was the last person needed to start the meeting. Everyone else sat around the table, laughing, eating refreshments from the kitchen, and catching up, waiting on them. Awkwardly, and with everyone’s eyes now on them, Piers walked around to the head of the table. They took the last seat between Councilors Johnson and Miles. The massive rolling chair, similar to the one in the study, sunk down as they sat. Councilor Miles glared at them, hiding it behind a pleasant smile.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Your Majesty.”

Piers brushed off the obvious venom in her voice. It would be better for their mental health to avoid talking to her as much as possible. She’d just make their life difficult, just to make it difficult. Clearing their throat, Piers stood, knocking into the table as they sat the slim folder down.

“Welcome. As is customary with the rise of a new political leader in this era, I’ve called this Conference of leaders from within Georgia and the Southeast in order to share my future plans and goals for this nation, and to begin formal diplomatic talks. I’ll go over what I perceive to be the most pertinent issues first, but I am open to questions. Afterwards, I’ll leave the table open to anyone else who’d like to speak or ask about issues I haven’t touched on.”

Subtly, Piers pulled up their list and chart, beginning to speak in vague enough terms so they wouldn’t offend everyone. Every so often, someone would interrupt them with a question, most often the Councilors of the Zones. They’d use the information they’d gathered from their research to appease whichever Councilor as best as they could. No one could genuinely hate them this early on in their reign, or they were doomed. After finishing their plans for revitalizing the Crashing District in ATLZoS, Piers pulled at their shirt collar and readjusted their jacket. They paused for a moment, grabbing their cup of water off the table and finishing the glass. Surely it’d been four or five hours since they began…

It had been two.

Setting their glass down, they stuttered a little, “I’m sure y’all are all ready to take a quick break. We’ll reconvene in ten minutes.”

The silent tension in the room broke, as various leaders got up to get more refreshments from the tables around the edges of the room, talking amongst themselves. Piers took a seat and twisted in their chair, popping their spine, then popped their knuckles as well. They looked to Grady, who sat in a chair against the wall, talking to a man with bright ginger hair and a blonde woman. She seemed busy.

“You’ve done your research, your Majesty.”

Piers spun around.

There stood President Dubois, smiling. They stumbled to their feet, almost running into him as they stood.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. President.”

“Likewise, Monarch Hall. You’re well read on everyone’s political stances, and the way you angled your answers was impressive. You know so much about everyone.”

The two shook hands and Piers made a quick note of everything about his appearance, from his face to his hair to the clothing he wore. For some reason, the strangest thing about him was the fact his gloves were black like theirs, with white stitching. Other than that, he looked the exact same as all the stuff they’d seen about him. Stern, but kind face, dark wavy hair, slate gray suit, white shirt, black shoes, green tie. He was well put together as a leader should be, and held himself with confidence. Nothing stood out about him, but because of that, something seemed off. Almost as if he was trying too hard to seem normal, like he had something to hide. The two began to talk, but whenever Piers poked a little further than just diplomatic, he managed to brush it off. He never answered more than asked. President Dubois had a defensive shell for sure, and Piers was determined to shatter it then and there. Something wasn’t right about this man.

“Piers, Rene, are you ready to continue?” 

It was Captain Johnson who tapped their shoulder, having come in to talk with his brother. Piers glanced at the time.

“Shit, yeah, it’s been fifteen minutes.” As they spoke, President Dubois gave the Johnson brothers a nod, and began to step away, but they raised their voice just a little bit, “Mr. President?”

When he turned back to look at them, they caught a glimpse of a familiar yet unplaceable expression, before he masked again. “Yes?”

“Can we meet after dinner? I’d like to talk with you about the political sphere of the southeast, and I’d appreciate having you as a potential ally. You seem very knowledgeable and I would like your guidance.”

His smile grew a little wider, “Certainly, Jillian.”

Piers froze as he returned to his seat, quickly falling into a heated conversation with one of South Carolina’s representatives. The familiarity with which he said their name, it bothered them. The way he called them Jillian. Adele called them Jillian, and that was it. The rest of the Palace always called them Piers, since before they could remember. They were forced to shake it off for the time being, reconvening the meeting. The room fell back into its previous quiet, tense state, all eyes on them.

NYTF WIP Intro