#devinstone.task

OOC notes: Initially I wrote this all in French and then translated the whole thing because who wants to read some sad crap in French? Not me! Some of the drama got lost in translation, but I did my absolute best. Just keep in mind that this conversation happened in French, since that’s the language the Lombardi’s speak at home. Thank you for reading and I’m sorry this got way too long! Oh, bonus, listen to this.

There were still decorations scattered all over the house. There were empty boxes piling out by the couch, on the dining table, and others squeezed between the bars of the stairs. Monica and Christian did not have time to finish the tree before they left for Massachussetts. Their tradition involved a lot of traveling and planning, but they tried the best to adapt themselves. Having two Christmases was not something anyone would ever complain.

Besides, it made the kids laugh when they saw the chaos that their childhood house had become. A tornado swept ornaments and tiny Christmas-y features all over the place, which gave the house a funny, but merry, look.

As per usual, Christian and his daughter busied themselves in the kitchen for most of the day. Monica and her son worked on cleaning the place and doing laundry. They all reunited around the dining table with a delicious feast and plenty of things to talk about. Adamo did most of the talking, but no one was surprised by that. Alessandra put an end to his monologue when she suggested they cleared the coffee table in the living room and pulled out her old Disney princesses themed monopoly board game for their traditional tournament. The father agreed with excitement and poured chips and other snacks into bowls to finish the evening, watching their favorite holiday movie, which was Barbie in the Nutcracker. No matter how old she became, it would always be Sandrine’s favorite thing about the celebrations. She would get up, and helped by her brother, they would do some of the pas de deux or bits of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance. Their parents would cheer, their heart filled with old memories from the previous years.

It was always the same. Outside, there would be so much snow cars could barely drive down the street. They could hear the loud chatters and noises from families nearbies. Italians really did it better.

It was around eight or nine in the evening and, usually by then, everyone was too tired from their flight to stay up any longer. Adamo was already in his old bedroom, snoring loudly. Christian was watching the weather channel to confirm their plans for the next day, which was to watch all the special television shows. And Sandrine would, too, get upstairs but, before she started walking up, she was stopped by her mother.

“Sandrine, will you help me clean the dishes?”

“Mom, I’m exhausted. Can we do that tomorrow?“

“No, come with me, now.” Nikki’s voice rarely sounded so strict and insisting.

She followed her mom to the kitchen and they both stood by the counter, staring at each other. Sandrine started feeling all strange inside, like a knot was being tied in her guts. Something was wrong.

“I talked to your brother about this a while ago and I wanted to wait to have you all here to tell you about it.”

“Why are you so serious mom? You don’t want to make brunch tomorrow, is that it? It’s fine, Dad already suggested we take it easy and we’re all good with —.”

“No, listen to me.” Monica marked a pause. “Do you remember when you came with me and granny to her first appointment, at the hospital? It was before your last competition. You practiced your pirouettes in the waiting room and everyone was cheering for you. You looked so cute with your little costume.”

“I was like seventeen or something! I wasn’t cute! I was panicking because I skipped rehearsals! I don’t see how that’s cute. It’s not because I’m short and I looked like a child that those strangers had the right to patronize me —.”

“I told you to wait for us, while I went with granny. And you waited, because you were always the best girl. And when we walked out, you knew something was not okay... You said you had a...”

“Knot in my stomach.” It was Alessandra’s turn to cut off her mother. “I remember that. We had just learned that Nonna was not doing good. Why are you telling me all this?”

“And we tried to keep it from you for the longest time, but we failed. You were always with me and with dad, and with Nonna. You knew something was off when we asked you to go out with your friends or to go grab a slushie because we needed to talk about grown-up things.”

“What are you trying to say? That you treated me like a child when I was an adult? I know all that already.”

“Do you have that feeling right now?”

Alessandra nodded. It was not just a knot, it felt like a blade piercing through her insides.

“Yes, and...?”

“I have cancer.”

"What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, this can’t be right. You told me your last checkup was perfect... You went like two weeks ago! It was just some random bump. You got so many scans and tests done! They all came up fine!”

“Alessandra Serafina Lombardi, for once, stop talking.”

So, she did. Alessandra was spiralling. She held on the counter when she felt her knees shaking under her weight. She looked over to the living room and Christina was switching the television channels absentmindedly. He was stuck on some hunting and fishing show. He hated hunting and fishing.

“Wait... You said you told Adam...”

“Yes. We told him last summer.”

“Last summer?!” Nothing was making sense anymore.

Her mother was trying to explain herself. She found out she had traces of cancer in her breasts and ovaries last summer, and refused to go through any sort of treatment. She knew all too well how it went, she forced her own mother to go under so many therapies and to take so many pills. She explained Sandrine that she was going to take drugs to ease the pain and see how it progressed. That was why she pushed back all the tests until her doctor insisted. Last summer, the cancer was small and could be easily treated, but, as of now, it was a whole other story. Nikki added that her dad would close the restaurant for a few months, until all the papers would be ready to pass it on to his sous-chef for good. They also said they would use some of the money Corinna gave them at her death to pay for the medicine. All that Alessandra heard was a long, loud, buzzing in her ears.

“Why did you not tell me?”

“We did not want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?! That’s the funniest thing ever. You thought telling me my mom is dying after the whole world knew would not hurt me?”

“You are too sensitive, Alessandra.”

“I’m not sensitive. I’m tired.” She slammed her fist on the kitchen counter. “I’m not a baby anymore! You can’t hide things from me! You can’t do that to your own daughter! We had this conversation when Nonna got too sick. What did you do with it? Throw it in the fucking trash, right along your common sense that could have reminded you to inform your other child?”

She had always been the other, lesser child. She tried not to care too much about it, to forgive and forget. But it was beginning to eat her alive.

“Alessandra, be respectful.” Christian shouted from the living room.

“You don’t even know what respect is.”

“We protected you until your mother made up her mind and decided not to get treated. We did not want you to live with the same uncertainty as we did!”

“All you did was hiding the truth from me.”

She stormed out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs. Her steps were loud and heavy. As she made it to her old room, she found her brother blocking the way. She started slapping and punching his chest, struggling to have him move at all. Adamo opened his mouth, as if anything he could ever say would make the situation better. Before he could make a sound, Alessandra managed to push him and walk inside, her hand holding the door knob so firmly that her knuckles turned white. She spoke, only to slam the door at his face.

 “Family should never lie to one another."

I know you’re back in town and I miss you.

I thought writing a letter might have been easier on both of us because we don’t actually have to see each other, and we don’t need interact. You don’t even really need read the letter, if you don’t want to. I just thought it might be good for me to let you know how I feel about everything that happened.

I won’t apologize for what I did, for the choice I made (about the abortion) but, I always feel guilty about it. I feel like there’s some small part of my mind that always comes back to it and how I didn’t think you could handle it. I thought it would have been easier to hide it, for you to not know anything about it and just carry on as normal.

I was very, very wrong about that. You’d probably say, if you’re reading this now, that I was always wrong about a lot of things. You’re probably right about that. But, I was wrong. 

I was wrong to go to my brother instead of you. I was wrong to not tell you about it, and that you had to hear about it from someone else. And, I was wrong not to ask your opinion about it, I just froze you out without you even knowing.

No matter what you said to me or even about me, never made me stop feeling something for you. Even when we parted ways that summer to go off to college, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You most definitely heard differently and yes, there were other guys. I don’t even care if there were other girls for you. It didn’t change how I felt for you, though.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I miss you and I’m sorry for everything I did. I know that my actions ultimately drove us apart. I also know that, as an adult, I should have taken responsibility and told you, we could have talked everything out and either continued whatever remnants of friendship we had or gone our separate ways without too much of a grudge for each other.

If you did end up reading this, I really hope you did, I moved to Ellington but, I still go over to my parents’ house every other Sunday. They ask about you a lot, they’d love to see you.

So would I.

If you had looked at my computer history (which you wouldn’t, of course - you were neither jealous nor curious) you would have laughed at what you’d seen. The things I googled in the weeks leading up to the end of us would be comedy gold for you now. But they still break my heart when I think of them.

how to know if your man is cheating

how to make your man love you again

how to stop loving somebody who doesn’t love you

The internet had interesting advice for me then. The biggest one they all had in common was “realize that no one can control another person”. I wanted to make you stop lying and cheating, I wanted to make you love me, to make you care... but I could never make you do anything.

But if that was true, if no one had complete control over anyone else, then why did you have so much control over me? Why did I need your approval so badly? Why did I want to be perfect for you? Even when I knew that I’d get nothing in return, why was it my goal to make you happy? If you weren’t controlling me, then I was choosing that for myself.

I still blame you, of course. I don’t think even you would say the dissolution of our marriage was on me. But I’m more to blame than I originally said I was. I acted like a victim, like a puppet that you’d controlled. A puppet that lay dormant when you weren't around and sprung to life when you came home, but that’s not true. I’ve always been my own person. I forgot that for a while, with you, that’s all.

I’ve always wanted to be loved. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And when I thought I found it, I thought that was the peak of happiness. But I was a broken bird, and all I wanted was to be fixed. You fixed me, but you caged me, too. You gave me what I wanted. Sort of.

My heart and my mind find it difficult to believe you never loved me at all. I know you said you didn’t. I know I said you didn’t. And I know it’s true, but I can’t bring myself to really, truly believe it. It makes no sense. I think if I were to accept that it’s true, and accept that I wasted seven years of my life with you... I don’t think I could handle that.

Anyway. This is me accepting responsibility for my part in our downfall. I loved you. And then I hated you. Now I’m... indifferent. I hope you’re doing well. 

je sais que tu veilles sur moi, sur nous tous. je sais que tu nous suis partout. tu es avec moi quand je fredonne tes chansons préférées en revenant du travail. tu es avec adamo alors qu’il entame une nouvelle étape de sa vie. tu es avec maman, à la supporter dans ces temps difficiles. tu es avec papa, à lui dire de continuer à nous protéger même si nous sommes si loin les uns des autres. et nous, nous veillons sur ta mémoire.

je t’avais promis qu’en sept ans, j’aurai trouvé mon prince charmant ou ma princesse, je serais entourée d’enfants que je chérirais comme toi tu l’as fait avec les tiens. je t’avais promis que je serais de retour à la maison, notre maison. je n’ai rien fait de tout cela. tu me disais toujours que j’étais différente, spéciale. peut-être un peu trop. tu m’avais juré que je trouverais ma moitié. je commence à croire qu’elle s’est perdue, comme moi. tu m’envoies sûrement un signe. il est peut-être temps de retourner d’où je viens. de retourner vers toi.

je suis encore là-bas. je suis bien, ne t’inquiète pas. i still haven’t found what i’m looking for... tu te rappelles quand papa criait cette chanson pour nous réveiller le dimanche matin, adam et moi? je l’entends toujours, j’entends la mélodie. elle me pousse à continuer de chercher... qui étais-tu avant d’avoir changé de pays, de vie? qu’as-tu essayé de fuir? ne t’y sentais-tu pas chez toi? a house doesn’t make a home, celle-là aussi, papa l’aime.

si tu savais tout ce que je donnerais pour te serrer dans mes bras une toute dernière fois. pour te confier tous mes secrets. pour te confier tous mes regrets. pour me faire pardonner de t’avoir déçue. m’aimerais-tu encore? parce que, moi, oui. je t’aime, pour toujours et à jamais.

dear grand-mother,

my beautiful grand-mother. you left us seven years ago. it might not be an anniversary that other people celebrate, but it was your lucky number, it was the year i dreaded the most. i promised you i would have made something of my life, within seven years. i promised i would have made you proud. i failed, nonna. i have nobody to share our memories with, with whom i would bake cannolis on saturday afternoons. i failed at putting back the puzzle pieces with my brother, even though i don’t understand what’s broken. ever since you left, nothing is the same. i have no lighthouse to look up to at night. i have no wishes to make while blowing dandelions. i tried. i know you know it too.

i know you are looking over me, over all of us. i know that you are following us everywhere. you are with me with i sing along your favorite songs while coming back from work. you are with adamo while he’s taking a big step for his future. you are with mom, supporting her during these hard times. you are with dad, telling him to continue to protect us even though we are so far from one another. and us, we are remembering you.

i promised you that, within these seven years, i would have found my prince charming or my princess, that i would be surrounded with kids whom i would cherish like you did with your own. i promised you i would be back home, our home. i did nothing. you would always tell me that i was different, special. maybe a little too much. you swore i would find my other half. i’m starting to believe it got lost, like me.

i am still there. i am doing good, don’t worry. i still haven’t found what i’m looking for... do you remember when dad used to scream this song to wake adam and i up on sunday mornings? i still hear it, i hear the melody. it pushes me to continue searching... who were you before you moved to a different country? what did you try to run away from? did you not feel at home? a house doesn’t make a home, this one too, dad loves it.

Information & requirements for this task

Your character will be matched with another character that you will have to interact with for this task.

Each pair will be assigned a situation that they will have to write out on the dash, to take everyone out of their comfort zone.

Once you’ve figured out who your partner is, please do reach out to them and talk it out a bit. The situation provided is very basic, but you, the players, have the opportunity to control how it’s played out, and who’s going to be Muse A and Muse B. Be creative! 

This task is mandatory and we expect to see all these situations played out on the dash.

All task starters should be tagged with #devinstone.task and #devinstone.task001, and please, make sure you @ devinstonerpg in the starter so we can keep track!

You have a week (seven days) to at least get a starter out for the task, but we’d love to see the thread go a bit further than that! That means that every pair should at least have a starter out before February 10th.

There’s no limit on when you should be done with this task. We just want everyone to be writing.

Pairs & situations

Madeline & Everett → 

Muse A is listening to their most guilty pleasure music with their headphones on at the coffee shop. But their bluetooth connection has failed and Muse B is ready to jump in to break the embarrassing news.

Mia & Nina →

Muse A has been craving a certain kind of snack all week but at the store, there’s only one left and just as they’re about to throw it into their basket, Muse B reaches for the same bag.

Althea & Isabelle →

Muse A has walked past the same cafe for times because they’re hopelessly lost. Muse B is sitting by the window with their coffee, watching and laughing as Muse A comes right back around for the fifth time. Muse A notices them and goes in, pleading them to 1) stop laughing and 2) help them.

Abraham & Erik →

Muse A is paying for something (coffee? food? up to you!) but are realizing they don’t have their money or wallet on them and Muse B is standing behind them in line, feeling bad.

Athena & Astoria →

While out somewhere, Muse A sees someone they want to avoid at all costs but sees them coming their way. They quickly turn to Muse B and ask them for a save, or to play along as a cover story to make the unwanted guest go away.

Luca & Perseus →

Muse A has had a really awful day, or maybe even week, and starts kicking a car out of frustration – the problem? Said car belongs to Muse B.

Reagan & Aveline →

Muse A starts banging at Muse B’s door loudly at 3am because they got the wrong apartment. But Muse B can’t fall back asleep after this interruption and invites Muse A in for tea/coffee to gossip about the person they thought lived there.

Jake & Tony →

Muse A just watched Muse B slip on the ice and wind up on their ass in the snowbank beside the parking lot. Muse A can’t stop laughing but end up slipping on the ice as well, landing face first in the snowbank across from Muse B.

Georgina & Emma →

Muse A just threw away a winning lottery ticket in a park garbage can by accident and is freaking out. Seeing Muse B walk by, they quickly yell at them to please help them look for it with the promise of giving them a portion of the winnings. Said lottery ticket could be a winner, but Muse A most likely misread the numbers on it.

Sophia & Michael →

Muse A has two concert tickets but none of their friends want to go because they’re not into the artist/band, but then Muse A overhears Muse B talking about said artist/band and see this as an opportunity to offer up one of their tickets.

Madison & Isaac →