shakti

yasmin sat at the table with her legs crossed at the ankles, back straight even as a laugh escaped from her lips. spending time with étienne was often difficult to schedule, with both of their schedules becoming quite busy of late. but as his birthday was close and they were in the same city, she had made certain that they were able to spend time together. “how has fashion week gone for you thus far?” she inquired curiously, her fingers lingering on the stem of a cocktail glass ( it was brunch, after all ).

there was a box on the table between them, meticulously wrapped. inside was a replacement pair of the vintage prada shoes that his dog had eaten and yasmin could admit she was rather looking forward to seeing étienne open his gift and so she raised her eyebrows before gesturing.

“well, go on then. happy birthday, chéri.”

who? kyra + @yasminchatterjee where? pre-family dinner

she didn’t smoke, but situations like these made the thought somewhat attractive. perhaps because family dinners were so unnecessarily stressful, filled with talk of matters she didn’t care about, or her immediate family completely ignorant to her business.

kyra was thus loitering beside the bar, watching members of her immediate family wander in in dribs and drabs whilst she nursed a single malt. an easy enough way to mellow out in preparation.

“would you rather fight one emir-sized duck, or ten duck-sized emirs?” she glanced over her shoulder, acutely aware of a lurking presence. “or are you a pacifist? i can never remember.”

it was rare for yasmin to spend time with the entirety of her family; most of the time it involved her being in london at the most opportune of times. tonight they had all assembled and she was looking forward to bringing thomas to meet her siblings, frustrating though they could often be. he’d met navya, her closest sister in age, when she had visited chicago, but the rest of the chatterjees were a mystery.

as she sipped as a drink while many of the family came into the house, yasmin noticed her niece off on her own. with a wry smile upon her ruby-painted lips, she approached her.

“i am mostly a pacifist,” she acknowledged. “though your father certainly brings out my inner warrior. i would prefer to fight an emir-sized duck as opposed to ten of him in any form.”

a light blush cast itself over rosie’s cheeks, embarrassment inevitable whenever someone dared to compliment her ( it still happened with wes, who she feels the safest around ). “that’s – thank you.”

she still found herself slightly awed whenever she was in yasmin’s company, and habitually, rosie avoided eye contact. “that means a lot coming from you.” rosie’s fingers awkardly tap against the tabletop, “how’s work? and amelia and co?”

yasmin offered the younger woman a smile. she was quite fond of roselyn, was fond of the other woman’s talents and believed that once she grew a bit more of a backbone, she would be incredibly formidable and quite an asset. “i speak only the truth,” she remarked with the shrug of one shoulder.

yasmin reached for her drink and lifted it to her lips. “work is busy as always; i’ve had some meetings the last few days and there will be another tomorrow morning down in the financial district.” she paused. “the family is well, thank you for asking.” her lips quirked. “are you enjoying your trip thus far?”

26. Lucie Lockhart: What is an unpopular opinion that your muse has?

in truth, yasmin has several unpopular opinions. one of these has to do with wealth and those who have it. in general, she thinks people often try to skate by instead of working hard. the idea of those with generational wealth doing nothing but living in hedonism instead of learning the value of hard work is abhorrent to her.

13. Garci de Borbon: What is your muse’s favourite book?

yasmin doesn’t have one favorite book, but she very much enjoys poetry as well as the classics. she’s often re-reading british literature favorites, and each year around the holidays enjoys a christmas carol. there is generally a biography on her nightstand and she has found reading about heads of state ( both whose of britain and elsewhere ) to be incredibly interesting.

40. Zev Tisch: What does self care look like to your muse?

answered here!

12. Floraigh Corriegarth: In their country, how would your muse vote?

6. Bocephus Morgan: What would your muse say is their worst habit?

yasmin can often get tunnel vision, especially when it comes to her work. she often gets focused on her work to the point that she’ll forget ( or ignore ) anything else going on in her life. she’s become better at getting some work-life balance, but it’s generally something she still works on.

14. Genevieve Donovan: What are your muse’s guilty pleasures?

yasmin would never admit it, but she keeps a stash of cadbury chocolates in her desk. there’s something about the british confections that reminds her of home and she often digs in when she’s having a rough day.

30. Orion Van Renesslaer: Does your muse have tattoos? What do they have? Or what would they get if they were to?

no, yasmin does not have any tattoos and she’s not the tattoo type in any capacity. she simply doesn’t see the point in having something permanently put on her body in such a way.

33. Reign Hearst: Who was your muse’s first or current celebrity crush?

11. Étienne De Polignac: What are some examples of your muse’s personal style?

yasmin enjoys being put together everyday and for special events, she likes couture ( though classy couture, of course ). check out some samples here, here, & here.

40. Zev Tisch: What does self care look like to your muse?

Amelia smiled softly, absentmindedly playing with the ring on her finger. The last few weeks had been total crap but as the waters were calming she could see the positives from it. “You have no idea how happy that makes me” she replied, turn her head to look at Yasmin. “Although I hope you never stop calling them gremlins. I thought that was rather cute”

yasmin offered amelia a smile of her own, one that was genuine. “well, they certainly tended to act like gremlins, did they not?” a casual shrug of one shoulder accompanied the words. “i don’t expect to lose my wit simply because i’ve, as étienne says, gone soft.” she tucked a lock of hair behind one ear. “are things better with royce now?” she inquired, her tone curious.

who? rosie & @yasminchatterjee where? regular mother/‘daughter’ drinks, new york city ed.

euphoria still tingled in her veins, nestled among the platelets tasked with ensuring she keeps breathing, and rosie couldn’t help but smile. it was a permanent fixture on her face now, and she didn’t expect it to disappear anytime soon.

“thank you for dinner,” she said, fingers sliding up and down the stem of her gin glass as the pink liquid bubbled within. “and i really appreciate your company. it’s always nice to spend time with you.”

yasmin offered rosie another smile. she was rather proud of the young woman, and she had been pleased that she was able to come to new york to spend time with her and wesley. and, if she was being frank, she rather loved new york; the city was much more eclectic than the one she resided in, though yasmin would never broach the thought of moving. “you’re welcome,” she responded carefully.

“it is always good to see you, dear. and i wanted to tell you how proud i am of you, especially given your most recent accomplishments.”

@yasminchatterjee​

“You know, a good thing about all this is that now our wedding should be much less awkward now the children are much more fond of you”

yasmin paused briefly, her eyes flicking over to amelia’s. “well, there is that,” she agreed, lips curving upwards into a small smile. “and i’ve become quite fond of them as well.”

BASICS.

Name:

yasmin

a persian name that means jasmine, after the flowering plant.

chatterjee

owners of the world’s largest airline conglomerate, the chatterjees are well-known in india as well as in britain for being pioneers in that industry. yasmin, however, has made a name for herself in the financial spheres.

rosie remembered it dearly: their picnic blanket, the expensive sandwiches and drinks they’d resorted to buying, wes slathering her in sun cream so she didn’t burn – it was several hours of calm with a spattering of excitement, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. “we had a picnic blanket,” she explained, “and there was a sense of community i haven’t experienced anywhere since; someone lent us some cutlery, we shared out our suncream, and it was a really pleasant time.” there was a pause whilst she ate another strawberry, “and anyway, we shifted around quite a bit: some of it we spent lying down, some i was curled up with my head in wes’s lap. it was just really nice.”

“but in terms of murrary: you could say the same of federer, except federer doesn’t have a metal hip.” she shrugged and wiped her fingers on a napkin, “but you’re right; him winning was so incredible. we watched it on an ipad just before places at the theatre. and honestly, i like a more optimistic you. if you don’t mind me saying.”

rosie smiled, genuine and bright, “but i’m glad you have a sport you enjoy. i find life is so much easier when there’s something there to distract you. plus, tennis fans are less likely to be hooligans.”

eyebrows rose as roselyn spoke of her experiences. there was, yasmin believed, something to be said for community, for sharing with others. her lips quirked at the corners. “that sounds rather picturesque,” she acknowledged. “i couldn’t tell you the last time i ate out of doors on a blanket, but my parents were rather well off by the time i was born anyway. they didn’t want people to know that they hadn’t always come from money and so the more normal sorts of things were frowned upon.” and yet her grandmother had taught her how to cook and she’d known the value of a pound, even if few believed her.

yasmin inclined her head. “perhaps,” she agreed. “but i suppose it might also depend on how long he’d been playing through pain. perhaps not playing through pain and having an easier draw might mean the difference between victory and defeat.” she shrugged one shoulder regally. “my mother always used to say anyone could win anything on any given day, simply because there are so many other factors at work.” she shook her head, lost in the memory for a moment. “i prefer being optimistic as well, my dear,” she responded, lips quirked. “though it doesn’t always come easily to a realist such as myself.”

her smile was genuine. “you aren’t wrong about that, dear. and no, not hooligans at all. but could you imagine if i liked something so strange as rugby?” her lips twisted.

ever since the accident, athena had been carried around a small notebook everywhere with her. not only did it have all the current ‘important things she needs to know’ on stick notes on the front of it, but it was where she recorded everything that happened during the day. during pockets of time, she’d write everything that happened that day and usually she’d ask clement or milo to fill in the blanks. however with clement not here and her wishing to not burden milo further, she found herself writing in her little book during the event, something that wasn’t all that common. however, her recording was interrupted by the arrival of someone she was certain was a friend. she just couldn’t remember exactly who she was. fuck.

instead of voicing anything she couldn’t remember in that moment, she offered a warm smile. “lovely to see you as well and yes, how could i not?”

yasmin was enjoying her time in australia, even if it was more of a working vacation than one in the traditional sense of the word. she had dressed well for the dinner and though she’d have to find amelia before they were seated, she hoped to at least make some more connections that would be useful for the future.

while she knew olympe had had an accident, of course, she didn’t know just how severe it was and yasmin did not pick up on the fact that the other woman didn’t use yasmin’s name. and, to be quite frank, even if she had, it was unlikely that she would have called attention to it. “i’m pleased to hear it,” she said gently, taking a sip of the cocktail she’d plucked from the tray. “is there anything in particular you’re looking forward to? i’m always quite partial to the tennis, of course.”

étienne thought for a moment, though it was not the first time he had posed that same question to himself. “he is rather naïve, yes. his upbringing was so sheltered, stuck to his maman’s side like a barnacle and then shipped off to boarding school on another continent. i think nobody ever had the patience to explain things to him without resorting to being condescending.” étienne could hardly ever have been described as a patient man, but he had no intention of being another person who took advantage of milo’s naivety. “his heart is the best i have known.”

“like a rash, or a weed?” étienne joked dryly, though an eyebrow shot up to hear one of amelia’s brood had been successful in growing on yasmin. “i’m am glad to hear that though. i presume it will make your life considerably easier this way, although i’m surprised to hear amelia was not so happy. surely fostering a good relationship between you and her brood is favorable?” 

she wondered just what had attracted étienne to milo, for from what she’d seen, it appeared to be a bit of a mismatch. but she was much too polite to ask such a question in public and she inclined her head. “he seems as if he has a large heart, indeed,” she agreed, inclining her head as she reached for her drink to take another sip. “what else do you love about him?”

lips quirked. “like mold, actually. it will make my life incredibly easier. arguing with the gremlins gave me a migraine on the best of days.” she shook her head. “oh, she was pleased he was being nicer to me,” yasmin acknowledged, lifting her glass to her lips to take a long sip from it. “but she’s not exactly pleased with his choice of significant other, shall we say.” yasmin lifted one shoulder into a shrug. “he’s nearing thirty; surely she should realize he’d have to cut the cord at some point.”

“wes and i went and sat on henman hill last year, eating all those overpriced strawberries and cream.” she’d managed to find a small punnet of the fruit ( she wasn’t sure whether she’d paid for it or it’d just been brought out, but nevermind ) despite the season and was happily making her way through it.

it would be a lie to say rosie was by now used to the perks of a fledgling relationship with the society; this time last year she’d have been sitting in the stands of wimbledon with a ticket she’d queued for since five a.m. not spending time with one of the most successful businesswomen she’s ever met.

“not to be the bearer of bad news,” rosie said sheepishly as she glanced at her companion, “but with his metal hip, it’s unlikely. though daniel evans could have a shot at it if there’s some upsets.” 

she smoothed out an invisible crease in her floral skirt, “i didn’t know you liked tennis.”

though she usually sat in a fancy box ( purchased either through her own firm or by the family’s aerospace corporations ), yasmin could see the novelty of sitting on henman hill, with strawberries and cream; it certainly seemed so very british. “did you enjoy it?” she inquired. “i don’t believe i would enjoy sitting on the ground like that.” she shook her head as if to punctuate the words that left her lips.

yasmin lifted one brow as she looked over at rosie. “unlikely, perhaps,” she agreed, inclining her head. “but still he plays, does he not? so many others give up at the smallest provocation. murray has a tenacity i admire, for he simply refuses to quit.” she smiled, a small and genuine one. “and i was there when he won wimbledon; it was such a beautiful moment for british tennis. so perhaps it’s unlikely and unrealistic, but i’m so logical most days. certainly i’m allowed to hope for this?”

she lifted her water ( sparkling, of course ) to her lips and took a sip before remarking on rosie’s comment. “i adore tennis. it is one of the most exciting sports to watch. rowing is over much too quickly for spectators to truly appreciate and i’ve never gotten into rugby or football.”

“better than they were last time we spoke.” étienne answered with a dry chuckle, tracing his fingers idly around the bottom of his wineglass. they’d been having their worst fight yet, the day he saw yasmin in london, and he had divulged the details to his old friend. “we resolved that when he got back to paris. the sight of me once again does not reduce him to tears, and he seemed to understand my frustrations after some explaining.”  ét emitted a deep sigh. “he’s just so… young. there are so many things he doesn’t get.”

“which gremlin?” ét paused. “wait, don’t answer that, i barely know the difference between them.” in reality, friendship with amelia all these years meant he did, but it amused him the way yasmin called them her step-gremlins and rarely distinguished between royce and regina as individuals. he took a sip of wine before settling on curiosity. “don’t tell me it was her son, he was always such a fils à maman.”

yasmin’s brow rose, but she asked no questions, content to allow her friend to continue talking as the words settled into place in her mind. her brow knit together, however, and she nodded sagely as she took a healthy sip from her glass. “is it because he is young,” she inquired. “or do you think him perhaps more naïve than most?” her lips pressed together and she wondered if milo would be able to make étienne truly happy in the long run, or if they would forever be struggling with their different life experiences. “from what little i have gleaned, he seems to have a good heart, at least. you don’t need to worry about him giving you the run around.”

she laughed then, a genuine laugh. “they are quite different, actually, though the youngest is growing on me, more than i could have expected.” she lifted one shoulder in a regal shrug and looked back across the table. “but yes, the son. he seems to have traded his umbilical cord in for a newer model of codependency.” her lips quirked at the corners. “he seems happier for it, at least, and his mood and behavior toward me has most certainly improved. but his mother did not take it incredibly well.”

though the two of them had been able to meet up in london during american independence day, it still felt like it had been ages since yasmin had seen him. the restaurant they had met for dinner ( and drinks ) at was discreet, with an ambiance that felt much more upscale than some of the rowdier bars melbourne had on offer. ( and to be fair, yasmin always wanted an excuse to try the tasting menu )

leaning back in her chair, yasmin offered étienne a wry smile before reaching for her glass of wine. “how are things going with your fiancé?” she inquired curiously, lifting the glass to her lips. after setting it back down one brow arched. “amelia has infuriated one of the gremlins, to the point that i’m not even convinced he’s speaking with her at the moment.”