The first timeā¦ she mentions their relationship to someone else.
Dress uniforms, wine glasses, and a hulking - and frankly, kind of tacky - Xindi War Memorial. Trip does not want to be here. He just hopes he has honed his diplomacy skills well enough over the past few years that it doesnāt show on his face just how badly he does not want to be here. He doesnāt want to chitchat with various dignitaries. He definitely doesnāt want to walk over to the ostentatious stone monument and highlight Tucker, Elizabeth Allison, but of course he will.
The large column is slightly more tasteful up close; the screen displaying the names is subdued in appearance and cool to the touch.
He still doesnāt want to be here.
He doesnāt mean to eavesdrop, but he catches TāPolās gentle voice coming from the other side of the pillar.
āI grieve with thee.ā
Thereās a bit of rusting and sniffling. āThank you.ā
The second voice sounds young. āMy cousin and his wife,ā she explains. āThey were talking about having a baby. I was so excited to be an auntie.ā
After a moment the young woman continues, āDid you lose someone?ā
āI lost several crewmates,ā TāPol answers quietly. āā¦ and my sister-in-law was killed in the Xindi attack on Earth. I did not have the opportunity to know her, but my partner loved her very much.ā
He can hear the sympathetic smile in the second voice. āThen I grieve with you too.ā
This is the first time heās ever heard TāPol reference their relationship. Heād like to revel in the moment, but a fresh surge of grief washes over him, wondering what Lizzie would have made of TāPol and how they would have gotten along. He suspects his sister would have been charmed by his partnerās dry wit and quiet warmth. In turn, Lizzie would have worn TāPol down with her relentless good cheer and impertinent sense of humor. Heāll never know.
Of course, if Lizzie had lived he wouldnāt have leaned on TāPol to cope with his overwhelming pain and rage. They might not have come to understand each other so deeply or learned how well they complement one another. Thereās a peculiar sort of grief in that as well, in considering a life in which he never loved TāPol and was never loved by her.
āAre you all right?ā TāPol has finished talking to the girl on the other side of the column and joins him, her face full of sympathy.
Trip sighs.
āI am,ā he answers honestly. āJust paying my respects to your sister-in-law.ā He flashes her a crooked smile.
TāPol looks down uncertainly. āIt seemed the simplest description. Do you object?ā
As if he would deny her this or anything, regardless of their legal status or complicated history.
āOf course not. I think she would have liked you, ya know.ā
āI sure do,ā he adds softly, and she meets his eye with a hint of a smile.
He reaches out to briefly take her hand, and she grips his with a firm squeeze, a tangible reminder that for all his melancholy thoughts of what could have been, he is loved by her here and now. Thatās enough to get him through the next few awkward hours.
āCome on, letās go find our table before itās time for Jonās speech.ā
āI hope itās the one with the gazelles,ā TāPol deadpans as she falls into step with him.
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procrastiwriting replied to your post: Well Iām off to a good start with 2465 words! And...
You are BRAVE. I keep my first drafts under lock and key. Keep rockinā it. :D
Lmao thanks. Itās mostly because I know that I rewrite the opening chapters 40 times and that this conversation will get absolutely obliterated when I get back to it in a month.Ā
The fact that itās so short helps, too. I donāt post anything over 200 words.Ā
my brain when im trying to write fluff: did you say ANGST? soul-crushing ANGST? intestine-rearranging ANGST?
my brain when im trying to write angst: cool, that's nice. but have you considered wasting three paragraphs describing the pattern of embroidery on a quilt?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
What if Bridgerton were set in modern Australia?
The Bridgertons are a prominent (and prolific), wealthy family headed by a charming hunk of spunk called Anthony. Helping his siblings dodge the ridicule of the parochial Australian media and keeping his family's business empire afloat preoccupies all of Anthony's time until a prickly stunner with zero respect for legacy bursts into his life and fucks up his neatly laid plans.
The Sharmas are second-generation Aussie battlers working hard to re-establish themselves after a family tragedy. Kate has sacrificed everything to protect her younger sister's prospects but with Edwina about to graduate uni and Mary finally finding her feet, she can no longer avoid tackling her own heart's desires. Kate's not exactly sure what's next but an entitled, white fuckboy is certainly not top of the list.
Okay, even I hate myself for trying to make that phrase my title. Iām theĀ āI hate Mondaysā kind of person. This is meĀ ā¬ā¬ā¬
So I spent my morning with a friend of mine who lives in California in the San Francisco area that I havenāt seen in years. Came home and got the immediate needs of work done but Iāve lost my motivation due to being way too tired and having no desire to stare at my email and do work to get ahead for the week. So instead Iām going to write. Itās my preferred form of procrastination on this overcast, rainy Monday in Iowa. I always talk about procrastibakingĀ so Iāve developed a new term: procrastiwrite. I will be procrastiwritingĀ for a while to wrap up the next chapter because I am SO damn close to it being done. And hopefully, it will make this Monday less gloomy.
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For the past week Iāve been like okay time to write and then Iām like but first gotta check Facebook and run around singing the Phineas and Ferb theme song.
Also Iāve been doing the same thing with sleeping.
Ā Somebody help! Iāve got a fuckton of work to do...
week-ends are meant to rest and do things you enjoy, not work! live you best life!
No but I canāt! I legit have to do 1100 little tasks over the weekend, and right now Iām at #105 and itās taken three hours just to get there. I mean, I will be getting a day off for it some other time, my employers arenāt monsters, but this will definitely have to be done this weekend.Ā
but on the other hand Iām getting close to a key scene in my Ice mechanic fic and Iām finding a good groove for my country musicians Bellarke, so obviously, this is a dilemma.Ā
