ＯＵＴ ＯＦ ＬＵＸ discussion
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𝗧𝗢𝗣𝗔𝗭 𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗧𝗢𝗡-𝗪𝗬𝗩𝗘𝗥
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Dude, look at the size of that zucchini!” Taz shouted, gripping Fae’s shoulder with one hand and pulling her arm roughly with the other. “Shouted” was not overstating it—she had absolutely gotten the attention of the shopkeepers and some passing traders, some looks confused, some amused, and some downright withering. Oh my, I’ve disrupted the peace, Taz thought, scrunching her face into a goofy look that would only serve to further annoy the Luxians passing with their withering glares.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Moving on from that quite immediately, Taz let Fae go before her best friend could even get a word out, gasping as she picked up the gigantic piece of zucchini, waving it in the air like a madwoman. The boothkeeper raised an eyebrow, but the resignation written on his face clearly indicated that he was accustomed to Taz’s outbursts by now. She came here often, after all, searching for someone to goof around with.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Fae, come here,” Taz said, exasperated, as if the woman were across the square from her. She was three steps away. “Look at this, seriously. How did they do this? Can we grow something this size in our garden?” Taz knew how annoying she must sound, but her absolute lack of caring allowed that thought to seep away as she held the zucchini out towards Fae, arm fully extended, the vegetable resting centimeters from Fae’s nose.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taz reached out just a bit more and booped Fae on the nose with it, face straight, eyes wide. “Yo, you just got zucchinied.”
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After eight years of living together, Fae and Taz had a ritual. On weekdays, they conducted their work in their shared study, taking an afternoon break when Taz got antsy. In the mornings, they would tend to their garden, pulling up weeds and giving their plants a healthy watering. Fae’s favorite of their rituals was their weekly trip to the market. It gave them a chance to be out amongst the people without the usual expectations and rules, and they were able to support the local farmers.
“Thank you so much for the recipe you gave us last week,” Fae was telling a vendor as she wrapped up her weekly order of strawberries and placed them in her bag. “That pie was so tasty. Next time I make it, I will be sure to bring you a slice.”
The end of her interaction was cut off by Taz, concentration fully on the next stall over, grasping at her for her attention. Fae gave the woman one last polite smile before turning her full attention to Taz. Her friend was always getting up to something, and her silliness tickled Fae to no end. This time, the object of her fascination appeared to be an unusually large zucchini. Just as Fae was wondering if their garden could ever produce a vegetable of that size and splendor, Taz voiced the very same thought.
“Yes, yes, I see the zucchini.” Fae pushed the zucchini out of her face and took it from Taz to inspect it closer. She chose to not respond to the comment about getting zucchinied. She would get Taz back for it at some point. “It really is impressive. Do you think we’d need magic to grow a zucchini this big? I’m terrible at plant magic.”
The boothkeeper let out a very pointed cough, reminding Fae of his presence. Whoops. Taz and the zucchini had distracted her from proper manners. Fae turned to face the gentleman, smile typically reserved for nobility plastered across her face. She turned on the charm just a smidge, suggesting to the man that he is not annoyed by their behavior and will not charge them more for the zucchini because of it. It was like second nature, as easy as breathing.
“Hi, sir. I am so sorry for my wife’s rude behavior. We would like to buy some of your zucchini. We can trade you some eggs from our chickens for a bundle.”
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taz only had one option, and that was to forlornly stare at the ground in rejected dejection. Her beautiful wife had ignored her joke and then stole her livelihood. Her treasure. The one thing keeping her rooted to this material plane. How could she do that, how could turn on the charm for someone else while neglecting Taz’s needs at that very moment? Where was the compassion in this marriage?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“I’m sorry for my wife’s even ruder behavior. Did you see how roughly she took that poor zucchini from me? Poor guy didn’t see what was coming before it was too late. And you’re going to let her treat your huge zucchini like this? Fae the Zuchinni Crusher!” Taz exclaimed, voice lower than her original outburst, but even more loud somehow when directed at someone. This particular farmer was very laid-back, never cared about much, but he certainly had the capacity to grow annoyed. As displayed with his shift in stance, eyes narrowing. Oops.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Do the trade and be on’yer way,” he said gruffly, ignoring Taz pointedly while reaching out to Fae for the eggs in the basket she was holding. So much betrayal on this day, so much suffering.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taz stepped back, huffed like a child, and crossed her arms. Pouting, soul shattered. She turned away and hung her head, bottom lip quivering with restrained tears. The worst day of her life, and it was all because of her supposed wife. How could she do this? It hurt. So bad.
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The boothkeeper was well within his rights to huff at Taz’s behavior, but Fae took offense at him blatantly ignoring her. Taz was loud, sure, but she was sweet natured and goofy, and she was complimenting the man’s produce. The very least he could do was look at her. She turned up the charm, urging the man into a better mood. You like the zucchini humor. The girl is endearing, and you will acknowledge her. Fae’s smile didn’t falter for a moment, but her eyes were shooting daggers into him, the bare edges of fury licking into her vision.
“How does three eggs sound?” Fae knew she was underselling him, but at this point, he had earned it with his rude behavior and bad customer service. Charm magic fully concentrated on the man, she urged him to accept the deal with gratitude. “Good? Perfect.”
Not even waiting for him to respond, Fae handed the man his eggs and tucked the zucchini in with the rest of the produce. At least, most of the zucchini. That one massive zucchini that Taz had wielded was still in her hand, tucked away where Taz wouldn’t notice. By that point she was in her own world, probably languishing over Fae not playing along with her. Fae was more even-keeled of the two of them, but she had a goofy streak in her. It was small and had fully been cultivated by Taz, but it was there.
Right as Taz crossed her arms to pout, Fae whipped out the zucchini and booped her on the nose. “Aha! You just got zucchinied! How does that feel?” Fae couldn’t help but celebrate her victory with a little dance, zucchini held high.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taz was stunned from her one moment of self-pity and contemplation on as to how she’d get the divorce papers, the zucchini she’d attacked Fae with a minute prior making its way towards her face, landing gently on her nose, Fae’s beautiful face and twinkling eyes behind the retaliation. Taz couldn’t resist the grin spreading from ear to ear, snatching the zucchini from her best friend’s hands, nodding her head in affectionate approval at the cute dance she began doing.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taz joined in, taking Fae’s hand and spinning her around, gently pulling her away from the booth. She could tell Fae had done something, as the man looked dazed and . . . somewhat friendly. It was weird, and she wanted away from it. She’d interrogate Fae later over that one. “We’re framing this zealous, zesty zucchini, bab-yyyyyyy,” Taz said excitedly, her last word a trail of eeeees, as she let Fae’s hand go and turned to face the huge clocktower in the middle of square, head tilted back so she could see the hands ticking effortlessly.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀It was such a pretty structure—her favorite in Voxthain. It wasn’t so stuffy and boring like the surrounding buildings, but instead intricate woven golden pillars, the stones all shades of beige and brown stacked so high until you see the hands moving, woven tendrils of ivy commanded to count time. She often wondered who did it, and how. Because it never stopped. She then turned back to Fae expectantly, snapping out of the distracted state of entrancement. “Where to now?”
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(Disclaimer: This is being posted by me, Aurora, but it has been transcribed from a very distracted and currently driving Isabella. Thank you for your understanding.)
Dancing had always been Fae’s favorite form of release from the stress of her everyday life. Anytime things got too hard, she would get up from her desk and do a little jig, before sitting back down with revitalized strength to get through her task. Fae loved dancing around the kitchen with Taz, tripping over their many cats, pulling in their relatives whenever they could. When Taz spun her around, Fae erupted into laughter, more subdued than Taz’s but just as bright and full of joy. A grin spread across her face, matching Taz’s, the two women finally matching each other’s energy rather than Taz sitting there pouting alone.
Fae held up the prized zucchini, a treasure more precious than water could buy. (Isabella, what? Guys, what is she even saying?) “This zucchini will be taking a place in our hall of fame, don’t you worry,” Fae told Taz, tone deeply serious, as she tucked the zucchini in her basket for safekeeping. “I’m sure we can find a mage with powerful preservation magic to keep the zealous, zesty zucchini from rotting.”
When Taz and Lucien had moved in with Fae, they hadn’t brought many personal items to fill the empty, hollow halls of the Ellington manor. As time passed and Taz and Fae regained their standing, they adorned their house with knick-knacks and memories from their time together. The hall of fame had been a joke, but it could also have been taken literally. The walls of one hallway in the manor had been so covered with chachkies that it looked like the inside of a senile wizard’s tower. While the walls of that particular hall were mostly covered, Fae could remember a distinctly zucchini shaped space left. Perfect. She wanted to get home right away to unload their groceries and start on preserving the zucchini.
“I’m ready to head back home unless you have anything else you need to do while we’re out?”
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“I think I’m all good!” Taz chirped, yawning as she stretched luxuriously for a moment, enjoying the sun’s warm, welcoming rays on her pale skin. “You’d better mean that,” she teasingly pointed a threatening finger at Fae, eyebrow raising as she poked her friend softly. “Hall of fame zucchini, here we come!”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She stepped in front of Fae to lead the way back, so very content with her company and the day both, enjoying life as it were. “Oh, Faecchinni,” she turned after walking a few steps, beginning to walk backwards as they headed home, the nickname just occuring without any thought from Taz. Oops, but she liked it. “Our neighbor, Gerald? He preserves those gross animals in his house, remember? I’m certain he can do us a solid and do that with a simple little zucchini?”
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There was no attraction between Fae and Taz, but Fae loved her wife just as much as someone in a more stereotypical marriage. She loved having this time to see Voxthain and support working class citizens and be silly with her favorite person. Even without the romantic attraction that most people thought was a necessity for a successful marriage, Fae saw Taz as her wife and life partner, the only person she wanted to start and end each day with, even if that end was the two of them retreating to their separate bedrooms. Despite the things people said about the duo behind their backs, there was more love in Taz and Fae's marriage than what existed for a majority of the nobles. Marrying Taz had been the best decision of her life, and she didn't know if she would even be alive at this point if she hadn't done it.
It wasn't clear what had brought on the momentary bout of sentiment, but Fae couldn't help but step up beside Taz and grab her hand, pouring as much love and magic as she could into that connection. They had a hall of fame. Together, the Ellington manor felt more like a home than it had in her childhood. Taz was so open and free and herself and Fae loved her. No force on Lux would have been able to stop Fae from loving Taz. She smiled at her wife, feeling so at peace, the weight of the world temporarily lifted from her shoulders.
"Of course I mean it. You know I mean everything I say," Fae responded, more serious than she needed to be for a discussion about a large zucchini. It was true—Fae was honest to a fault, at least when she was talking to Taz.
At the mention of Fae's new nickname, a burst of laughter exploded from Fae's chest. She rested her head on Taz's shoulder as they continued walking back home, even more overcome with affection than she had been moments ago. "We can certainly ask Creepy Old Gerald for assistance in preserving our treasure. If anyone can do it, he can."
Fae paused for a moment, not sure how much of her affection she wanted to verbalize. She wasn't very good at communicating her emotions with words, and she often worried that the people in her life didn't know the extent of her love for them. It was just so hard for her to put the feelings into words when her parents had been so sparse with their own words of affection in her childhood. The first person to ever be open with their feelings around Fae had been Taz.
"You know I love you, right? You're my best friend, and I love you."
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒏@ Alpha/Sapphira
Honestly, Caledonia was regretting this. Agreeing to meet with Councilor Daenerys was almost the very, very last thing she found herself wanting to do after the insane crap that had gone down with...her. But two days later, and she knew she couldn't just avoid her duties to her people simply because one Asterath Councilor decided to become the epitome of a thorn in her side. She had been elected because of the people, and she intended to keep up her promises to fight for them. No privileged girl was getting in the way of that, even if it meant Cal had to go seek out another Councilor when she'd rather cancel and go back to what she'd been doing since Ceonrei had triggered her down in Asterath: beating the living daylights out of punching bags, wasting ammo on targets pinned to the wall, and sparring with her mother and some of her soldiers. She'd done some work for the militia, as well, reading reports, responding to messages. The eery reality of a magic-sucking killer on the loose really wasn't helping her sleep at night, and she was hoping to hear from Elliot soon. Something good, promising. Though good was laughable these days.
Caledonia's mind had been running nonstop since that meeting. Since both meetings, really, and she'd had a sort-of talk with Mama about them. Some of her rage had been cut off with a sharp knife--the worst of it finally dropped--but she still found herself angry, the dull throb beating beneath her skin next to her heart, against her ribs, permeating everything she thought or did. Ceonrei had gotten handsy, Cal's healing process had cracked a little, and Ceonrei just had no care. It was something Cal couldn't fathom, but she'd finally gotten to the point where she was just determined to speak to another Asterath Councilor and falsely apologize for being too harsh on Ceonrei when they'd first met.
Which. She had been, that much Cal had grudgingly realized. But any urge to genuinely reach out to the brat had been squandered after two nights ago. Even now, she hissed out an annoyed breath before rubbing at her hand, the ghosts of Ceonrei's nails--and his--digging sharply into her palm whispering tauntingly over her skin. Shivers darted across the brunette's shoulder blades, and she found herself shaking her hand out, as if that could make the ghosts scatter.
Focus, Hayden. Focus on today. On Sapphira. On the people.
Though, to be fair, Sapphira was not all that bad, and in fact, she wasn't even nobility, unlike half the useless, egotistical maniacs on Council like Lorelai Delacroix, who made Cal's skin crawl every time she looked at her. But who knew, maybe that was just because she was a Delacroix, and they and the Calicos tended to be the worst of the worst. Sapphira was someone Cal had had her eyes and ears on since she'd been elected, and small sliver of relief had filled her chest when she'd realized finally, finally, there was another common-born person here, someone who would take the peoples' sides, and not just have the interest of the wealthy at heart. But the girl was young, a whole five years beneath her, and Cal remembered being elected at only seventeen, without a drop of noble blood, and a foreigner at that. She had been hiding her nerves, but they'd been there, just under the surface, though she'd been lucky her adopted mother had been a Councilor before her to at least guide her in the right direction at first. Sapphira didn't even have that, so Cal --for the sake of the people, and because like hell would she be letting the nobles eat Sapphira alive--had sucked it up and reached out to her.
It hadn't been easy--Cal was awkward around people, never exactly knowing what to say unless they spoke of work-related matters. She could easily speak about the militia, about the Council, about the different types of swords and guns and evocation magic, and she could actually get along with kids really well, but anything was a miracle if she got two sentences in without offending someone or vice versa. But, she knew the stress, the judgement, that came with being someone not born into wealth and nobility on the Council, and Cal was not about to let Sapphira go at it alone. She'd only been here three months, and she was young.
So, Cal had introduced herself after one meeting, awkwardly, distant, but tried to be...friendly. Sapphira had, as well, also seemed as if she was going to fight for the people, so maybe for one of the first times, Cal wouldn't be fighting against a whole bunch of self-absorbed nobles. She may legally be one, but she hadn't been born into it, and that changed everything. Unlike them, she knew struggle, hunger, and hardship, and as much as some people tried to make her forget, how could she? And why would she want to, if it just meant she could do all she could to become a Councilor and make it so nobody else had to feel that way?
Now, she had agreed to meet Sapphira in the square, so they could touch base and see what one another were working on to actually help people. For years, Cal had used the power she had to build and fund safe, clean orphanages for any kid who needed a place to live, run by people who actually loved children and wanted to help them get a better foot up on life, while she also funded shelters for women who needed a safe place. Both issues were close to her, and she spent many days a week simply playing with and getting to know the children, and speaking with the women. She'd just come from one of the women's shelters, and her last stop after seeing Sapphira was one of the orphanages.
Cal was wondering what more of Sapphira's work and ideas were like as she crossed into the square, stones beneath her feet warm from the rays of Luminos harshly filtering down. Her nose wrinkled as she reached up to wipe sweat off her forehead, her dark hair having plastered there from the utter, stifling heat. Why couldn't there be cloud cover right now? Something cool, with a nice breeze and drizzle? She huffed, stepped over a loose stone in the pavement, and kept on walking.
"Cal! Cal, Cal, Cal!" An excited, childish shout cut through the air, and she turned, dread curling inside her stomach like a tendril of shadow. But when she placed the voice and caught sight of the preteen running towards her with shining eyes, a genuine smile cut across her face, like a cloud broken by the star.
"Anden!" She greeted, and her eyes widened as the preteen skidded to a rocky stop inches from her. Quickly, gently, she held her hands out to steady him before he could topple over into her, but already, just the sight of the kids she adored to no end, had a dark weight lifting off her shoulders for the first time in days. "Careful, kiddo."
"Sorry." He adjusted his hat and then thrust something in her face. "Look! I wanted to show you, I made these."
She wanted to tell him she had been planning to come by later that afternoon, but why bother? He was here now, and curiosity wafted up inside her. "What'd you make?" Anden had always been into baking, and as soon as she had known that, Cal had made sure the orphanage he lived in was equipped with a state-of-the-art kitchen, and that Cogsworks knew to allow him to use theirs, as well. A rich, warm smell twisted up from the basket he held, and her eyes sparkled as she looked at it.
Puffing his chest up, the ten-year-old dramatically whisked off a cloth, revealing sticky chocolate-cinnamon buns. Cal's mouth watered, and she grinned up at Anden. "Hey, those are amazing! Keep that up and I am so sure you'll be able to find a job at a bakery." That was another thing she did--use what she had to help the kids who didn't have as good a support system find their ways to opportunities. Cal knew very well, with a sickening reality, how painful it was when you were alone. She had her mother, but she had grown up for the first five years of her life in a cold, horrible orphanage. She wanted to be sure Voxthain's kids who didn't have parents were still able to have a future.
"Really? I think so, too, I mean, but--have one?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah!" Anden held out a steaming hot roll, and she accepted it with a thanks and bit into it. Flavors exploded across her tongue, and she looked over at Anden and ruffled his hair.
"This is amazing. Seriously."
The beam on his face made her heart ache. Cal knew he was going places, but it pissed her off to know Asterath and their Councilors didn't see the real people in Voxthain who needed help from the shadowfog. Not the nobles, but the people who may not have anywhere to go when the fog hit. She blew out a breath and shoved that thought aside. She was always here for the kids, their guide when they needed one, and she wasn't letting Ceonrei get in the way of that.
One day, she wanted to adopt a child, have a kid of her own. But deep down, she knew she was too insecure, too emotionally unstable for that yet. So, for now, she'd be a friend. She'd take care of them in the only other way she knew how. Making sure they were warm, safe, and were getting love, schooling, and care.
Cal held her hand out instead. "C'mon. Walk with me? I'm meeting another Councilor in the square."
Anden frowned, but slipped his hand into her's. "Noble?"
"Nah. Nobles are gross."
"You're a noble," he teased, and she rolled her eyes.
"Halfway." But neither let go, and Cal refused to let him walk all the way back home without someone there to make sure he got back safely, despite his having run off here on his own. The square was bustling, with merchants trading wares all around her, food smells mingling with the scents of perfumes and the occasional spice. It wasn't unpleasant, and she found, for the first time in days, she was able to hold peoples' gazes and give them nods and the occasional small smile as they passed. Though, her busted lip was probably not attractive, but hey, who cared.
When she reached the edge of the square, she released Anden to go back home, promising she'd be there shortly, before finishing the bun and heading back to the center where she'd agreed to meet Sapphira. Today, Cal had dressed in black cargo pants and a looser, dark green T-shirt. Simple, but with a black-and-green flannel she'd slung over her waist, boots finishing her look. She still had some bandages on her hands and arm from the fighting ring, covering up some her tattoos, but at least she was still standing, unlike all three of her opponents.
Cal licked the last of the sweet bun off her fingers before leaning back against a wall, watching Voxthain go about their daily busines as she waited for her fellow Councilor. Though, her green eyes were ever shrewd, ever watching--she may be temporarily "off duty", but as one of the militia's sergeants looking into a disturbing crime, she always had both eyes open and numerous weapons hidden on her person.
⋆⁺₊⋆ Sapphira Kiah Daenerys ⋆⁺₊⋆ Voxthain Councillor ⋆⁺₊⋆
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╚═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════. ✦ .╝City of Voxthain * Clocktower Square ⋆⁺₊⋆ Late Morning
The city of Voxthain was hustling and bustling today. The liveliness of the city brought her to life every time she saw it. Even before she was a councillor, Sapphira loved to see the citizens of the city out and about living their lives. A couple walked with the lady having a childish and adorable smile while holding fresh flower she'd just been bought. Behind them, a mother was walking holding hands with five young children and carrying lots of bags full of fresh produce.
Sapphira didn't stare, the lives of the people were not her business. They did not have to share anything about their lives if they didn't wish. She never would force anyone to do such a terrible thing. Everyone got to live their life however they wanted to, and that meant they made their own decisions for themself. She didn't need to make any input on any of those. But for Sapphira to see the people free and happy anyways made her feel alive.
Today was a normal day, well somewhat normal. She'd woken up and gotten ready for the day, then she'd helped deliver food to those elderly in their homes and ran whatever errands they needed. Even cooking breakfast for a few. Her cooking skills weren't the best, but they were still enough to be appreciated. And the stories and advice she always got from those families were her favorites. They were always genuine, kind-hearted, and every time they invited her to eat the meal with them. Today, she had, and she didn't regret it. She never had regretted it. It was always nice to get to know those around her.
Currently, she was on her way to meet another councillor. A meeting that she'd been asked to attend. Sapphira had been hesitant to accept but it had been Councillor Hayden to invite her, and it was a one on one, so she had accepted.
Hayden and her had similar view, they wanted to help the people of Voxthain rather then the nobles of Voxthain. That was what made Hayden the most trustworthy of all the councillors, at least the Voxthain ones. She hadn't been introduced to the Asterath ones. Hopefully that would wait. On the thought of Hayden, Sapphira was hesitant. Sure she was nice and had a good view, she was still a noble. Sapphira couldn't shake the feeling that if it came down to it, Hayden would abandon the people for her own kind. It was part of the nature of manipulation, something she saw happen to innocent believers, she always stepped in whenever she saw it happening to save the victim. But what if she was the victim this time? She wouldn't be able to save herself.
That was a risk that she had to take. As a councillor, she'd been chosen to represent the people. If that meant she'd be manipulated by every single other of the 13 councillors then she would take that beating. It was the sacrifice she had to take. It was the sacrifice that she felt was necessary to make even though it could mean her entire life was gone. Sometimes you have to take risks in life and just hope they pay off.
The square was packed. The merchants and tiny shops littered the square. The large clocktower the square was named after stood majestically. It was something that awed her that she rarely noticed. The way the wood stayed fresh, how it towered upwards and stayed in perfect condition.
A young child, perhaps ten years old rushed past her holding a baket towards a woman. One she recognized. Councillor Caledonia Hayden. She watched form a distance, pausing as she surveyed the situation, a bit in awe. She had never seen Hayden in the city. She had never expected Hayden to have developed relationships with the citizens, and especially not the kids. A smile boomed on her lips, Perhaps she isn't as terrible as I worry...
Hayden seemed to spend her time with the kids, from her observation, with the new generation. It was a contrast from her own work. She spend time with the elderly, the poverty families, and the disabled. The people she had grown up amongst and had built great bonds with. Occasionally, she also helped the workforce, assisting them in factories or elsewhere. Becoming a councillor had opened her path to help them. She'd started running charities that were open to donations, ones she donated to once a week and ran on the ground with the other people whenever she could. They hosted toy drives for the kids in impoverished families, they had a food pantry open for pick up and drop offs for all families in need, and they worked to raise money to help those in need of wheelchairs, hearing aids, glasses, and anything else that could be thought of.
The happy child ran away from Hayden as the memories of helping those who needed it faded. It always felt amazing to help, she;d grown up amongst those families. Sure she hadn't been one, but she grown up amongst them. Supporting and helping them from the young age of 6 when she first met a girl who didn't have any toys. That was the first time she ever donated, giving up her dolls to that girl and her siblings. The two were friends for a few years but that fell apart as their shared interests shifted, but they were always on good terms. She even saw the girl every once in a while and bid a nice hello.
The sun was bright, giving off a cast of brightness that she didn't love. The sun was always exhausting, making you sweat. It didn't bother Sapphira as much, she would survive, but she felt bad for the workers who had to do laborious work in the sun. Perhaps she'd check in on them before or after lunch and assist in whatever way she could.
But back to reality, she had to meet Hayden. A bubble of nerves surfaced in her stomach, kicking and screaming for her to let it out. She shoved it down and took a deep breath. Hayden was waiting for her, leaning against a wall. Before approaching, she examined the girls outfit, nothing flashy that screamed noble, rich, or money. Impressive for one of those rich skanks. Although she is starting to convince me from afar that she isn't a rich skank, just named by one.
Beginning her approach, Sapphira became aware of the short flowy dress she wore. A white dress that fell to about her knees, had a round neck, and medium straps with a single ruffle. The dress was two layers, a matte white fabric underneath, and a sheer decorative top layer. Click, clack. Click, clack. Her heels clicked on the ground quietly as she approached, they were simple white one-inch heels with a closed toe. Around her shoulder was a small black purse to carry essentials and on top of her head was a pair of cheep sunglasses that she'd owned for the past two years. Her long black hair was pulled back- minus her money pieces- into a not-excruciating-but-enough-to-hold tight bun on her head. Her face was bare of make-up, revealing her natural skin, eyes, lips, brow, any everything else, a rare sight when she met with a noble. She'd always done something to look nicer when she'd met with the councillors, but to be fair before the months ago, she hadn't even known how to do make-up so when she did it, it was never perfect.
Crossing the square, she was sure she was spotted by Hayden, it was obvious the girl was scanning the area. For what? She had no clue. But here she was, approaching Hayden, ready to meet about their efforts for the people of Voxthain. Don't mess up Sapphira, they're counting on you, she reminded herself before closing the final distance of the crowded square to the other councillor.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒏It was true enough Cal was a lot more at ease with the kids than most adults, but that wasn't all she spent her time doing. She had long since began programs to help people access food if they needed it, and she begun a program allowing for leftover foods fro noble galas and council events to be given to people who needed it, while she also didn't keep any of her own pay. All of the wealthy items she gained--from the fighting ring victories, from the militia, and from being a Councilor--went to the people. She had enough from her mother's wealth, and even that always made her uneasy. It was never an easy transition, going from having absolutely nothing to suddenly having everything, and she had never felt okay with the reality she now had the world when the other kids who had been in that orphanage with her had nothing...or were dead. But the elderly Sapphira helped...admittedly, Cal did not focus on them. She focused on the kids, on women, and on the poor, all people she understood more due to her own experiences, but that was the benefit of meeting with Sapphira--they could see both what they worked in common towards, and what they worked differently towards, and make life better for everyone. That, in any case, what was part of what kept Caledonia holding this meeting today. That, and really, she didn't want the other Councilors at Sapphira's throat.
Now, Cal's ears attuned to a clicking sound, the familiar one of heels crossing stone, and she turned her attention away from the market towards the sound. Sapphira. A tightness crept into her stomach, squeezing, while a buzzing began behind that. She hissed to herself, taking as deep a breath as possible. Why was she nervous, anyway? She'd been on Council for years. But deep down, Cal knew. Sapphira was a person, and Cal didn't tend to get along well with most people.
Pleasant. Stay pleasant, she's not a noble she's not Ceonrei. But ironic, wasn't it, Cal figured she took a step closer to her coworker, having taken in her clothing fro today, that Sapphira somehow seemed to be dressing as if she was the noble with those heels and that ruffled dress that was so different than anything Cal would ever wear. She--no. Slowly, Cal eased her hands behind her back to crack her knuckles, the sensation grounding her away from that judgmental thought. Power didn't go to everyone's heads like it clearly did Ceonrei and most nobles, and she had to stop assuming the worst of everyone. But now did one do that?
Cal shook herself out and took a breath, stepping again towards her and then holding her hand out in greeting, in what she hoped was a sign of amicability. Despite the fact her hand was bandaged still from her fights. If that bothered the Councilor, well, Cal couldn't really do much about it. Without her bandages, some of the blood would probably still leak, but her knuckles would be clearly bruises and red, the skin broken over her tattoos. "Councilor Daenerys," she greeted, making eye contact with her, and allowing a brief, small smile to cross her face. Now, it was forced, of course, because Cal was never one to smile unless she was around her mother or heraunt, or her cats or the people she helped. It was just...people made her nervous, end of story. Nobody had her trust until they'd earned it, and that was not an easy process to do. Still, she knew she needed an ally in the only other person on Council she knew of who was not born into the disgusting clutches of wealth; for years Cal had been the only one fighting first and foremost to help the people, against the interests of the nobility, and admittedly, she really did hope Sapphira would be of help in that department. "Thanks for meeting me here. Would you like to walk, or sit down somewhere to talk?"
In hindsight, maybe Cal should have asked how she was doing, but had never been the best with knowing how to make small talk, or remembering how to talk like a normal person to others. Kids were easy, and talking to the people was easy, but when it came to people she worked with...her distrust got the better of her. In Cogsowrks, and growing up the "common-born stray" her rich mother had picked up in a noble society who hated the people sometimes, Cal had perfected backhanded compliments, she had perfected not crying at insults, and she had perfected pretending she was fine despite the rumors and gossip, the taunting and ceaseless bullying from her rich peers who never saw her as one of them. (Fine by her, but still). Yet one thing she would always struggle with because of it all was trust, and because she struggled with trust, she forgot to be pleasant and ask how people were sometimes. Business was easier, safer, and required less possibility someone may ask her abut her day, too.
Sapphira Kiah Daenerys ⋆⁺₊⋆ Voxthain Councillor
The approach was long. It seemed to take forever to Sapphira. Almost as if time had been slowed, extending the moments that the two councillors approached each other as if it was about to be a life-changing moment for both of them and possibly the entire Voxthain existence. Maybe it would be, that was the best to hope for. Maybe the two would be a strong enough force to change the city of Voxthain for the better.
Sapphira was too trusting. She didn't have strong enough walls. Everyone around her was good until they did something wrong. Well, except nobles. Nobles as a title had already wronged her so there was no reason for her to have any trust in them. So why was she suddenly imagining that she and Hayden would change the world together? She had no clue. All she could hope was that it was some lovely foreshadowing that her mind was doing for her.
"Councillor Daenerys." A bandaged hand extended towards her and her thoughts and the slowed time feeling ended. Sapphira, not wanting to be rude, took the hand and gave it a light shake. She probably should have done a firmer handshake, considering how they were councillors and this was a business ordeal and wasn't her meeting the families she assisted. After the release, she studied the bandages for a few seconds, seeing a few spots of red. They were tiny, and must have been caused by blood. What else could it be?
Not wanting to be rude, she didn't stare. She took her attention from the councillors hand to her eyes in a few seconds. Well, her attention to the extent of her eyes and body language, that didn't account for her thoughts which were wondering what possibly Hayden could have done to have bloodied herself up so badly. Sure, she was a noble to the private militia, but seriously? As a noble shouldn't that mean she was safe and a pretty little princess like the fairy tales? Not the fierce night?
Her curiosities were great, but the importance of this meeting was greater. Her wonders came second to the citizens of Voxthain. She could handle her thoughts later. "Councillor Hayden," she said in a greeting, her voice was quiet and enchanting, one that could be missed and float away in the light cooling breeze that brushed over them. Sadly it wasn't enough to help with the heat though. "It's nice to see you on this fine day," she said, concluding her greeting.
To her, that was full of absolute shit. Who said 'on this fine day' expect for nobles being stuck up their asses? Nobody! Not her citizens! But guess what? Caledonia Hayden was a noble. And therefore she was accustomed to that language just like every other stuck up ass noble on the council (don't get her started about the ones outside it).
"Thanks for meeting me here. Would you like to walk, or sit down somewhere to talk?" Hayden meant business and only business. It was a big transition from just earlier, working with the people she loved. They always talked about their days, and their plans, and their life before any business was discussed. You had to catch up before any business. Of course, this was a noble councillor she was talking to, not a family she adored. Councillor Hayden was just like the rest of them. She was just naive to believe otherwise.
Sitting or walking. The two options she was presented with. Sitting it would be easier to be listened in on, although this meeting was not that important. That's a lie it definitely could determine her future as a councillor. While walking would be more exhausting, she was in good shape but she didn't love to walk forever. She could do it to help others, but for a meeting that would last who knows how long? Absolutely not. "Sitting someplace would be preferable," she said, her voice milky and sweet. Even she noticed it, and loved it. Maybe it was why the older folk liked to have her around so much. The voice of an angel. But that didn't override how fake she sounded to herself again. God she hated interacting with the nobles. God she was going to hate this meeting. After all, Councillor Hayden was a noble meaning she'd have to butter the bitch up in fake ass comments and kindness.
The disgust in the way she was talking showed slightly. A grimace showed on her face seconds after she replied but she shoved it down and replaced it with a sweet smile instead. Sure she hated everything about how she was acting but no need for the only councillor she had a single drop of respect for to find out. Sapphira hoped Hayden hadn't seen the grimace, but she didn't glance a look to check, she just replied on her ears and prayed.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒏On this fine day? Cal wanted to scoff. Besides the fact she hated this type of weather—hot with Luminos beating down across her pale skin—Sapphira’s language was worse than hers. It was so formal, so much like a classy noble it had her itching inside. But when Daenerys took her hand, Cal found her palm hot, aware of the way she could only feel part of the other woman’s skin, due to her own bandages. Ah crap. Her fingers twitched the moment Sapphira released her, and she barely held herself back from tucking her hand behind her again and wiping it on her pants.
Nothing against Sapphira, yet, just—another hand in hers had her skin crawling, but Cal taking charge helped her keep some of her composure. Still, her cheeks flushed slightly, up through her ears, sending her numerous piercings a little warm against her skin, when she caught Sapphira’s eyes briefly lingering on the bandages. What was she thinking? All of a sudden, Cal wanted to turn tail and run. Here was someone dressed like an impeccable noblewoman, that ruffled dress and those heels, so perfectly put together, and Cal looked like a casual…well…slob. Usually, she didn’t mind her sense of style, but it had taken years for her to feel okay with who she was, years of being judged. And with the bandages…Cal was unashamed of the fighting ring. But she knew if the nobles found out, it’d give them more ammunition with which to slice at her.
She cleared her throat, hand tingling, and instead of hiding it, curled it slightly, her nails pressing against her palm in a sharp stab of grounding pain.
Pain she had caused. Nobody else. Herself.
Cal froze at that, and her stomach sunk, twisting into something gnarled with sharp thorns probing into her gut. Chest squeezing, she found herself unable to take a breath for a solid second. Something about Daenerys’ tone of voice. Well, two things. For one, Cal had grown up surrounded by fake-ass people—all the nobles who had done all they could do to make her life a living hell—and the shudder running up her spine and across her muscular shoulder blades was proof enough that Sapphira may be a commoner, but she was just as fake as the rest of them. For another…her expression.
What was that? Disgust? Disdain? Cal narrowed her eyes slightly, bringing one hand up to shield against the bright rays of their sun, hurtling down its heat and its golden light. Why was Sapphira disgusted?
Because you’re a gutter rat, a voice taunted, airy and light, before she gritted teeth and squeezed her other hand harder, the pain sharper against her palm. A thin trickle of blood burst from her skin, worming its way down her hand and staining the white of the bandages more than she knew they already were. Because you’re a slob. A noble? Half a noble? She didn’t know. But what she did know what that, apparently, she hadn’t been stable enough for this yet. For more judgment. More hated gazes.
And she’d been hoping for an ally, too. Instead, all she had was a stuck-up bitch in a fluffy dress Cal hated with a passion. Dresses she hated in general. Frilly ones with heels were even worse, and sure, everyone had their own styles, but Cal knew Sapphira was a fake.
Nobody good ever made Council.
Bile stung the back of her throat, her head swimming. Of course she’d noticed it. She was militia-trained, sergeant, prodigy in her own right, and Cal was observant to a fault. She licked dry lips, heart pounding.
“Councilor,” she forced out, the heat too strong against her now, almost burning through her shirt, “I wanted to work with you. I offered to meet with you, I reached out to you. And as you may be on Council for awhile, let’s clear this up.” Cal straightened, every inch of her tall height, muscles on display, her militia training taking point. “I can tell right off the bat something about me disgusts you. I don’t know what fucking rumors you heard from Council, or if it’s—my bloodied hand, and if it’s that, I apologize—or if you think I’m beneath you—“ She made a disgusted wave of her own at Sapphira’s utterly stupid getup, “or if it’s because you think I’m—a prissy brat, but I refuse to work with someone who looks at me like I’m a roach. Who infuses their words with sugar when they really mean spice. I’ve had enough of that crap for twenty years, and I’m done with it. Yes, I see through you. Snap judgments of you own are rude and uncalled for.”
Maybe she was making one herself, but not truly, right? This girl did have something in her voice; the way she stared. And it had Cal’s blood turning hotter than Luminos by the second, market chatter fading around the rushing between her ears.
Her bluntness was another reason many nobles hated her, first being she wasn’t even really one of them. But Cal didn’t care; she’d stick their fancy words and fake eyelashes up their asses if they could. “I was genuinely hoping to have you as an ally for the people. But I’m getting the sense you just want social status for yourself. If I’m wrong, prove that to me.” Cal crossed her arms, muscles standing out against her sleeves as she did so.
She’d been stepped on enough over the years. Cal was done with it. She’d genuinely been trying to be nice, but that was laughable she’d even figured it would go well. And maybe it hurt, but it just served her anger. What she was hurt anymore? This was why people sucked. You be polite, and they looked at you like you were nothing.
Sapphira Kiah Daenerys ⋆⁺₊⋆ Voxthain Councillor
The tension was thick. Too thick. Councillor Hayden cleared her throat and Sapphira prepared herself for whatever business that she was here for. The woman meant business; although it was what all the councillors meant, it was so much more terrifying to meet alone with one of them. Even if it was the kindest one of the six.
There was a awkward silence and Sapphira knew something was about to happen. Most likely one of two options, there was a fight or they ignored it and the tension grew. Both options she hated, mostly she hated the fact that there was conflict at all. Even though Hayden was a noblewoman, she was still supposed to be Sapphira's ally. Her only ally outside of the people.
“Councilor,” Hayden began in a tone of voice she couldn't discern. She wasn't great at reading others emotions but this one wasn't good. “I wanted to work with you. I offered to meet with you, I reached out to you. And as you may be on Council for awhile, let’s clear this up.”
Her mind rushed, what in the hell was going to be cleared up. Was Hayden a stuck up bitch life the rest and going to put her down in public? Or perhaps she was going to belittle her for all of the achievements she'd made in the past three months? Or was she going to tell her how a citizen of Voxthain didn't belong on the council? There were so many options, and none had outcomes she liked. Sapphira needed time, time to think, but sadly she didn't have any of that.
“I can tell right off the bat something about me disgusts you. I don’t know what fucking rumors you heard from Council, or if it’s—my bloodied hand, and if it’s that, I apologize—or if you think I’m beneath you— or if it’s because you think I’m—a prissy brat, but I refuse to work with someone who looks at me like I’m a roach. Who infuses their words with sugar when they really mean spice. I’ve had enough of that crap for twenty years, and I’m done with it. Yes, I see through you. Snap judgments of you own are rude and uncalled for.”
Time froze yet again, but this time it was different. Sapphira took it all in trying her best to process everything at top speed. Councillor Hayden had spotted her disgust, not a lovely start. She had notice her attention to the bloodied hand, she had assumed her preconceptions about the councillor because of nobility (that wasn't entirely wrong), she had misinterpreted what was meant to be respect. Conflict was not Sapphira's favorite moment. She preferred sunshine, rainbows, and butterflies. Sadly that wasn't going to happened for her.
The only way to get over conflict is to confront it. And here Hayden was doing that. No matter how much it hurt her kind delicate heart, she had to match that energy. Maybe that would allow them to make up. Maybe matching it would be the turning point and allow them to have a much more stable relationship.
Sapphira stopped walking and turned her whole body to face Hayden. She didn't care that they were in the middle of a public square. They had to handle this here and now.
"First and foremost, I feel like we got off the the wrong foot. I obviously had preconceptions about and you had the same about me. Perhaps both of ours were wrong." Sapphira took a deep breath urging herself to keep going, she had to do this no matter how much pain and discomfort it caused her. "I am not disgusted by you, I do not care about your hand being bandaged, and I am certain that I am not above you, by the laws of the council you are above me because you are a noblewoman and more experienced. I apologize that I notice your hand, it is my nature to be curious but I am not one to push at things that I do not need to know, and that is obviously one. I just hope you get better." Another pause, one to catch her breath. Her mind racing. She was so uncomfortable, conflict looked terrible on her. Stress radiated from her, if she fucked this up then their entire possible partnership and alliance would be down the drain.
"I will not lie to you Councillor Hayden," she said, her voice was much less angelic, it was shakey with nerves. She was so stressed and scared. "I had preconceptions about you. One that you were a noblewoman and expected the same treatment as the others. Perhaps I was wrong, but that is how I was disgusted. I hate the fakeness of the noble greetings and every conversation they have, it is just not... normal." She paused and took a deep breath. Everything would be alright, everything would be okay, she hoped.
She raised her head to meet Hayden's eyes, not much of a raise. They stood at the same height, perhaps she had been looking at the ground without realizing as she talked. "With that being said, I have a bad history with nobles. Most of it stemming from Cogsworth Academy which I attended less then a year ago, but I still hold those preconceptions to protect myself. Perhaps you aren't the same as the rest, and I would love to meet a noble who's head isn't stuck up their ass," she paused and chuckled, "But that trust takes time."
Sapphira had just laid herself out to Hayden. She had said so many truths that would for sure offend every single noble on the councillor. Hopefully it didn't offend Hayden. Even so, her desperateness had blinded her and made her say so many truths, she really needed to work on her reaction to conflict.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒏Immediately, Cal wanted to throw back in Sapphira's face that she had not, in fact, had preconceptions about her, but she gritted her teeth to the point of her muscles aching to keep herself from speaking until the other Councilor had finished. Partly because, deep down, Cal knew maybe she did. Not from the get-go in the past three months, because everything had been rushed and focused on the shadowfog--and three months was not that long, anyway--but after getting once glance at her now. And that, Caledonia knew, was wrong. But she'd disgusted, or has...disdain, some social climber--no. Stop thinking. Stop. She had to let her finish.
"You are above me because you are a noble--I just hope you get better." Well, fuck. Something dark writhed inside her gut and an itch began along her spine; she felt almost...too big, or too small, for her own skin. Discomfort in what Sapphira was saying, everything just felt...wrong. A muscle in Cal's neck jumped as she clasped her hands behind her, spine stiff and shoulders back and down as she fought for a semblance of control she felt slip away from her.
Nevertheless, she ran her fingers over her palm, over the rough bandages, as a nervous tick; Mama had told her so many times to stop digging her nails into her hands, but try as she might and the habit of over a decade didn't seem anywhere close to dying out. But it wasn't always for lack of trying as she scratched at the rough edges of the bandages, which were not going to get any better as Sapphira assumed unless Cal got a handle on her anger. The fighting ring didn't allow for healing to happen unless you just stayed away, and fighting three rounds in a row followed by spending all your free time in your own training room at a punching bag was, really, not good for your hands, even if you grew up fighting and training. Unless she backed off, the skin wouldn't heal. But unless her anger abated or she found some other miracle to calming herself down, she wasn't leaving the training room. But Sapphira's genuine concern, the fact she even said she hoped it got better, had Cal wanting to ruin her nails down the woman's eyes to get her to shut up. Nobody cared, and Cal had no idea how to even...deal with someone saying something like that.
But beneath her own discomfort--her urges to deny and clarify everything Sapphira was saying--was that ever-present knife lodged between her ribs, scorching her with every move she seemed to make in the past week: guilt. Her solid defenses remained, but the small crack in them had been brought about by that knife, somehow almost sharp enough to cut all the way through her, and each event seemed to twist it further and further into her organs as it aimed for whatever shriveled remains of her heart still existed. Because okay, fine, she had had preconceptions. And because she could read that terror on Sapphira, could see that she herself was not the only one uncomfortable right now.
And as Daenerys kept talking, Cal found some of herself deflating, found that dark, decaying heart inside her, against her will, somewhat going out for hr, because her words hit too close, too uncomfortably close, to home, and Cal closed her eyes and barely held in a groan as she brought forth one slightly-bloodied hand and rubbed it across her forehead, dislodging some of her wilted hair Luminos had plastered across it.
Cal bit her tongue, hard, the acidic, tangy taste of blood spurting into her mouth familiar and grounding as the sharp pain arced through it to the back of her mouth. Dammit, couldn't she have been drunk today? Ordinarily, drink made her skin prickle, but sometimes, being slightly drink-hazed was enough to get her through a meeting with stuffy-ass nobles without saying something to further her own detriment in their eyes. Still, as soon as the thought passed her mind, she tried to shove it down.
For the people. We can do so much together if I don't explode like a powder keg. Forcing herself to swallow and take a deep breath, forcing herself to try and think for once before speaking, her opinions hammering against the forefront of her mind, Cal made herself hold Sapphira's gaze, brown eyes meeting green, made herself stay there. Councilor Daenerys' shaking words, the tension swimming between them, everything she said, had any defense somewhat dying within her, shriveling like a plant under a hot sun. Cal licked her dried, still-healing lip. At least that would heal before she meandered back down to Asterath, unless she sparred with more soldiers or with Mama a ton.
For a second, she said nothing, letting the shouts of children's laughter around them, the chattering of Voxthain's citizens, and the scents of baked goods, spices, and flowers calm her own nerves and her edge of defenses. Calm the spikes of anger that nevertheless had died a little anyway as Sapphira had spoken. Finally, she nodded once, voice softer, because dammit, she understood. "No," she finally agreed, quiet but steady, "It s disgusting. The fakeness. The masks. And I--" Cal's senses attuned to the sound of splashing water, calm and constant, behind her. A fountain, sitting in a nice stone circle surrounded by benches and planter boxes. Vibrant purple, pink, yellow, and orange flowers sprouted on bright green stems, and they called to her, the area more calming and relaxing than just standing here.
She gestured gently to the benches, remembering Sapphira had said she preferred to sit, and allowed her to lead the way before she settled on the warm bench and spoke again, drops of fountain water sprinkling against her face.
"I also have a bad history with nobles. I don't--" She squeezed her hand before her fingers twitched, darting to a concealed sword at her side. Her hand shook before she grasped at the hilt of it, the hold, steady hilt a familiar, calming presence when her palm closed over it. She'd had a soldier who knew illusion magic give her a bottle of illusion potion to use, and so she had some of her weapons enchanted to be hidden when she wasn't on duty. With the newest killers on the loose, draining peoples' magic and leaving bodies behind, Cal was not being too careful, even when not formally in her uniform.
It just felt like a barrier, a heavy, clogged barrier she had such a hard time pushing past. Not a class barrier, but a personal one. She took a breath before meeting Sapphira's eyes again, her hand looking to anyone else that it was clenched around...nothing. But the weight of that weapon against her hand, the cool metal, and the grounding, calming sense of the flowers and soil and water, was all keeping her from saying something borderline idiotic. Was all keeping her talking in the first place and not just...closing up.
"When I reached out to you two months ago," she started again, taking a breath, "I did so because I wanted you as an ally. Not only for me, but mostly for the people." Cal tapped her free hand on her thigh. In the golden and brown hues that was Voxthain, how put together everything was, she had never felt as if she fit it, and the dark swirls of ink swimming across her pale fingers seemed to shout that from the rooftops. It's common knowledge. Or, I thought it was. But she and Sapphira had been five years apart in Cogsworks. She'd graduated a year or so after the woman had joined.
"I'm like you. I was born to common parents. I'm not really a noble, I was--adopted." She gritted her teeth, lungs seeming to constrict as she mentally fought for breath. Usually, she had no problem at all talking about this--she preferred to not be lumped in with the asshats who liked to ignore the Council and pretend they were better than everyone--but after Ceonrei had triggered her two nights ago, some of her old insecurities and old walls had been tossed up, her father's voice dark in the recesses of his mind despite his body being six feet under in some unmarked grave. Rather, the bottom of a lake where nobody would ever find the evidence. Adopted? Like a stray. Because that's all you are. A poor stray dog your rich mother took pity on. She clenched her jaw and tried to shove his words away from the recesses--no, forefront, now--of her mind.
"And because of that, I-I know...what it's like to be hated for being a commoner. I know what it's like to--" She closed her eyes, opened them. Squeezed the sword tighter, sweat beading in the palm of her hand. "Have negative experiences at Cogsworks." Suffice to say, that was a simple way of putting it. She'd been tormented her entire time there by the nobles who never saw her as one of them--not that she wanted to be, she didn't, she had just wanted to be left alone--but Voxthain's upper crest had never understood how her mother could have soiled her own reputation and the nobility in general by adopting a common girl she had found in a burning orphanage. And nobody wanted her there. She was "dirty" and "soiled", and she had always been treated as less than by any noble who wasn't her mother, while some other commoners had never trusted her due to her noble mother. She'd been bullied relentlessly, and it angered her to get the inkling now that Cogsworks--and the asshats who attended--hadn't changed a damn inch.
"I guess all being said, I don't--blame you for being wary. I...I was raised by a noble mother. But for the record, Councilor, I'm not above you." This time, the eye contact, at least for Cal, was simpler. Easy. Genuine. "No human being is above another, alright? I don't care what shit anyone has told you, but you have just as much value as any of those idiots who dress themselves up and preen." Anger tinged the edged of her deep voice, getting harder, while the deep green in her eyes flashed once, jaw set. But not at Sapphira. Her chest had tightened, passion seeping into her words. "In fact, you have more. You see people. You were elected by the people. For years, people have tried to tell me that my blood and my birth make me less than. I have been spat on, have dirt thrown at me, I have been...hated, a lot, by these idiots I was raised with, all trying to "put me in my place" because they see me and you as less than them. I've learned they're wrong, and I hope one day you do too. You're right. We got off on the wrong foot, and we shouldn't have had preconceptions, yeah, okay, we both did. Let's--can we start over, please? I truly think we can make a larger difference for Voxthain--the real Voxthain, the people like us, like you--if we work together. I don't--I don't like working with other Councilors, I'll admit it," she ground out. "But I'd be a fool to not...try, just this once, with you. For the people who need help. Besides. I know how awful nobles on Council can treat me. I don't want you to be alone when they try and do the same to you."
None of this meant she trusted Sapphira. But Cal, being militia, had done a quiet background check on her, and she'd never done anything awful, anything to warrant a red flag blaring in Cal's mind. She could tell based on what research she had done after the first Council meeting with Sapphira that the people did like and respect her...and that was good enough for Cal, at least for now. Trust, real trust, would take time.
Sapphira Kiah Daenerys ⋆⁺₊⋆ Voxthain Councillor
There was a long silence. One that echoed as her words sank in to Hayden. Not in a bad context, but in one of realization she hoped. She hoped. All she could do was hope. That made her feel helpless, not being able to control that. She was so used to being able to control things in her life: her outfits, visits with her father, the charities, etc. Not being able to control it was stressful, being around the nobles was stressful.
The fakeness of the nobles was terrible. They both agreed on that. Relief, well partial relief, rushed over her. Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a quiet sigh of relief. She had had no clue that she had been holding so much tension throughout her body. The fact that they agreed on the fakeness of the nobles was nice. And the fact that Hayden had understood why she was disgusted was also nice.
There was a silence, one more calm then the tension from before. She turned her eyes to Hayden to see a much more relaxed woman then she remembered. A simple gesture led her to follow the councillor to a pair of benches outside the crowd. The vibrant flowers around them after she sat on the bench reminded her of jewels, like the ones her father gifted her mother whenever they saw each other.
The rawness of Caledonia's voice caught her off guard. She hadn't expected to hit so close to home. Or to relate so much to the noblewoman. But perhaps they had slightly similar stories. She had heard that Hayden wasn't nobleborn, but rather focused on the fact that she was raised by nobility. Maybe the woman had some experiences that made her more sensitive to the people and their situations then she had first realized.
She was paying no attention to Hayden other then listening. She knew watching the woman in such a revealing moment was most likely a bad decision, so instead, she focused on everything around her. The roses as red and pink as the most vibrant sunrise in a planter box nearby caught her eye first. Then a group of three kids, having to be younger then ten, running past yelling and laughing playing tag. Close behind them was an exhausted looking woman pushing a stroller with a young baby, most likely the mother of the kids.
Hayden didn't see herself above either. Even though the woman had the noble title and more experience. Being called her equal sent shivers down her spine since 6 months ago when she'd been in the academy no such thing was imaginable. The memories of name-calling, manipulation, emotional abuse, belittlement, and bullying had left a large dent in her. One that was hollow from her dreams of once liking the nobles, she had admired them as a kid. Now? They were nothing more the pigs with money. Except Hayden of course.
The fact that she was hearing a woman admit to her that she wanted to see her succeed was quite incredible. Like a barrier to protect her was being placed around her. Sure it was definitely penetrable but it was better then nothing. It was almost what she'd been hoping for. Minus the tension and misunderstandings from their initial greetings.
When Hayden finished talking, Sapphira sat quietly. Letting those words sink in to her skin and mind. There were a lot of them, and they had a lot of meaning. Some of which she'd have to reflect on but also some of which that she could act upon right now.
"Thank you," she finally said breaking the silence. She stared of at her hands in her lap. She really didn't know what to say. She'd just heard a lot about Hayden, more then she had expected at all when they had first met. "It means a lot that you want to protect me and our people." She couldn't put her thoughts into words. She had no clue what to say. There was so much and so little to say at the same time. Where to start? What to say and leave out?
She took a deep breath after a short silence, "I knew little of your story, mainly the councillors despising your blood. But, I never knew you also had struggles at Cogsworth. The fact that--" She took a deep breath, stumbling on her words as she bit back tears. Sapphira was so gentle and easygoing and extremely emotional. Even the slightest things could get her to cry, and now she was trying to not do exactly that. "The fact that there is someone who understands me, at least partially, is refreshing. One of my favorite things about the impoverished families I work with is the stories and advice I hear when I'm working. But none of it every is so... similar to my story."
"You blood doesn't make you worse, it makes you better," she paused and looked up from her lap with a soft smile on her lips, "because it means you not one of them." She had totally come up with that on the spot, but it made so much sense. And it might have been one of the best things she'd every said. It was true, and it could have so much meaning. Sapphira knew that, from the daily affirmations she did every morning, trying her best to not let the other councillors beat her down. And now here she was, trying her best to help heal the damage that the other councillors had tried to do to Caledonia.
"Yes," she said, they got to start over. Before the tension, before the preconceptions, back to where they first met. "I don't know what it's like to work with the other councillors, but perhaps our meetings can be different. And I know I'm not alone, if I need anything I'll write you," she said. They had made up, everything was okay, everything was going to be okay. But with that being said, they had business to do. She was about to be so much like the business-like Hayden. Or perhaps she could skip that part for now... Kinda.
"I say you with a little boy earlier, a younger one," she said after some silence, telling Hayden of the observation she'd made. "He looked... genuinely excited to see you," she added. To be completely honest, she had no clue what Hayden did for the people. She been drowning in so much work lately that she hadn't had any time to find out.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒏Cal's eyes briefly darted to the small drop in Sapphira's shoulders, and guilt as well as frustration dug into the pit of her stomach. Guilt that she had somehow made Sapphira afraid of her without trying simply because of her legal title, despite the fact she had done all she could today to not look one bit like a noble. To be honest, Caledonia always tried that, and she usually succeeded. She saw no point in fancy attire unless she was practically forced into it for a gala. It made her skin crawl, the host of thick and wealthy fabrics that could be traded to actually provide food for families, and it had her feeling like a fraud. She was not born into that shit, and would never feel okay around it. But also, frustration. Frustration nobility had made people like Sapphira nervous. And, deep down, Cal still got a little uneasy around brats like the Calicos and Delacroixs. Nobility had a way of getting under your skin, in your mind, and stripping away all your defenses and feelings of security if you weren't careful.
It was. She hated their falseness, their batting eyelashes and polished fingers, their toothy smiles behind which hid calculating minds, ready to tear anyone to bits, even their own family sometimes. They were the snakes of Voxthain, dressed in silks and satins, poisoned fangs and rattlers hidden under layers of makeup and gold. Disgusting.
As she spoke, Cal did appreciate Sapphira not looking at her, though she could tell on her response after and her body language that she was paying attention. Admittedly, a flare of irritation nagged inside her, and she almost snapped for Sapphira to keep eye contact with her out of basic politeness in conversation between two people, but why would she when she was doing all she could keep to not avert her own gaze? Just because her birth was common knowledge didn't mean mentioning the years of terror at Cogsworks was easy--it wasn't. The academy should have been a safe space during the days--the long, horrific decade--when home wasn't, but instead it had been another hell. Escaping one monster for more, all because she was not born to Katarina Hayden. But as she spoke, the urge to demand Sapphira look at her died down even more as her own gaze finally dropped to her arms. It was easier, and for all she knew, well, Cal had to remind herself it probably wasn't being done out if disrespect. In any event, she found her free hand, not clenched around the hilt of her sword, tracing the inking on her arm, up the thorny stem of the rose and around each petal, giving herself shivers, though the sensation of her finger along her skin wasn't exactly unpleasant. It was better than digging her nails into her knuckles, anyway.
When innocent, bright laughter cut through the air, Cal paused, lips parted slightly, and glanced up. Her heart lifted a little, seeing the raw happiness in those three kids, a carefree type of energy she found her heart tugging at, while her lips quirked up a little. Because she had never had that herself. At age nine, all Caledonia had ever been thinking about was how to get better in her training, how to pass Cogsworks, how to survive her father's abuse, and how to escape the bullies at school. There had been no time for running through town with a genuine smile. There had been no time, no way, to be a child, and maybe it hurt more than she had realized, or rather, allowed herself to realize. She licked dry lips and turned her attention rather abruptly from the kids, focusing instead on the cool spray of water against her cheeks and the vibrancy of the flowers around her, her magic frothing and rolling, very happy to be in its elements of earth and water.
Cal nodded once, also unsure what to say. Not that she hadn't meant what she said--she had--it was just, genuine conversations, kinder conversations, were not exactly something she navigated well. She had grown up in that den of poison, with monsters all around her, all looking for ways to make her fail, so she had grown a spine, and she had grown fangs of her own. She knew how to manipulate people, toss in backhanded compliments as soon as she was insulted or humiliated. Very rarely had anyone in upper society ever been kind to her, and so this was foreign territory. "Um. You're welcome." Come on, keep talking, just--be civil. "I do want to. Because--because I know how it feels to be--an outsider. Different. And..." Her green eyes darted to her own bandaged hands and then back up to Sapphira, always moving, always shifting. She swallowed hard. "And I don't--I don't want the Council to harm you. As for the people, they mean more to me than anything. Together, I-I really think we could make our city a lot safer, a lot better, and not just for the asshats in fancy clothing and lots of power." Her nose wrinkled.
Cal barely held back a flinch at that. Yes, that was true, the Councilors, some of them, despised her blood. But the real hate were the nobles, more than the Councilors. It was the nobles who had made her life hell at Cosgworks, who had humiliated her repeatedly at galas, who started rumors, who had tormented her endlessly in the hallways. She pressed her lips together now before nodding once. "I did," she replied, rubbing her thumb across the hilt of her invisible sword, the intricate designs pressing into her skin sharp and cold, grounding as she fought that swell of memories she tried so hard to forget. Still, maybe she shouldn't forget. Not if they made her active to help others. In fact. She knew what she planned to do now as soon as she got home. Pen a message to Cogswork's heads, the people in charge, and demand changes and more proactive stances against bullying. They hadn't helped her when she'd been there--not that she had done much to ask for help, her pride was too strong and Cal's response to bullying had usually been to start a fight--but clearly, nothing had improved, and it had her blood hot in rage. "Almost single fucking day. It was brutal. So I am--I am sorry. That they were not kind to you, either." Oh no. No, no, no, don't cry do not cry. Cal shifted her weight on the bench, one leg beginning to bounce when Sapphira's voice broke. Her skin broke into a small array of itches, and Cal yearned to scratch them, except it wasn't really itchy, she just--nope. She didn't know how to deal with anyone over the age of about fifteen crying; tears had her very, very uncomfortable. She's nineteen. A child. Still a child, she tried to remind herself, but if Sapphira didn't cry, then no need to...what? What did one do? Offer a sleeve? A tissue? "Um," she added, heart hammering against her ribs. "I...I do. Understand you, that is." No, their stories were not identical. But they were similar in terms of experiences at Cogsworks, and because of the nobility, even if Cal had experienced it a little differently because she had been around her bullies almost 24/7, being raised by a noble and thus sometimes forced to go to events with the kids who hurt her outside of school.
Do. Not. Cry. Her eyes closed for a second, the heat strong, and tried to take a deep breath. She got, on some level, how impactful it must be to have someone understand you. But on the other hand, Cal still, somehow, felt alone. Isolated on a small peak of ice surrounded by freezing water, miles away from land. Mama was everything to her, but she'd never understand being forced into an environment you did not belong and then harmed because not only did you not want to fit in, but because you were born different from them. And Sapphira, well, Cal was jealous. Jealous she was at least not raised in a society wanting to eat her alive. At least her home had been a safe space. Still, she couldn't deny her own slight relief at knowing a kindred spirit in terms of care for the people existed. Sapphira had, in fact, given Cal some relief in Council. A sense of hope. Someone who shared her ideologies. And who knew. Maybe if Cal had been more emotional and emotionally healthy, she would have been as teary-eyed at Sapphira in relief. But she wasn't.
All she finally added, because she nevertheless did know Sapphira was young, in the scheme of things, anyway, was, "It's refreshing for me, too. Having someone else on Council who...shares ideals." And maybe has a similar experience at Cosgworks, she thought, but didn't say aloud. "And I'm sorry." This was truly genuine. "You didn't deserve that bullying."
"I hope so," she urged, perking up a little and visibly relaxing a tad when their topics veered away from emotion and back to business. "I do want them to change. Not that I haven't done any good, I have, it will just be really nice having someone else who agrees with me that our priorities need to be the people who actually need help and not the nobility who have more than enough." Cal leaned forward. This, even if it was more emotional, was still easier. "You're not alone. I promise." She locked her eyes with Sapphira's again and gave her a nod. A small wave of protectiveness washed through her--seeing another human being broken by nobles in a way just had her pissed, and if she could make even the smallest difference for her, so that she wouldn't have to face more opposition, then she would. Cal only wished she could have done it sooner.
Cal jerked back, Sapphira's words taking her by surprise. "Oh," she stated after a moment, tapping her finger on the soft edge of one of the flowers. That small ray of sunshine she barely felt broke forth a little, and once more her lips twitched into a genuine but tiny smile. "Anden. Yeah. He, um..." But the smile didn't last, the emerald hue her eyes had taken on with that rare spark of joy frothing back into their usual dark evergreen before turning even darker as the perpetual dark hollowness gaped a bit inside her. "He's one of the orphans, over at Spire Orphanage." Now, Cal found herself unable to meet Sapphira's gaze, and she dropped her eyes to her hands again. Those ugly hands, her bandages and blood stains and swirls of tattoos inked into her skin. "I, um, I spend a lot of time with the kids there and the other two homes around Voxthain. Get to know them, play with them, sponsor them for education or jobs if they need it. I love them so much." It was a small admission, a small peek behind the dark curtain she kept around her shriveled heart, bit it was also true, and she would fight for those kids even if she lost it all in the process, so who cared who knew?
Her chest tightened, and she glanced up abruptly, taking the chance to shift into the topic of what they did for the city before Sapphira could, she hoped, ask questions or just...get into more about the kids who deserved so much better than nobility ever gave them. So much better than being parentless in a world not built for them. "And when I'm not there, I work to get food and items to trade for better food and materials for homes for anyone in the city who needs it. I'm trying to fight for free medical care, and I...I set up shelters for any woman who may need a safe space, too. And the militia, I fight for the people, try and keep changes Mama, Selene, and I wrought-- arresting nobles abusing others; aren't biased against the common people. I hate abuse of military power like that. Um. How about you? You mentioned charities and families you work with?"
None of this was said in any arrogant way. It was the simple truth in what she did with the power she held.
Sapphira Kiah Daenerys ⋆⁺₊⋆ Voxthain Councillor
With Caledonia's support, Sapphira felt a lot more safe then she had in a long time. The other councillor had the experience that she needed as a mentor as she learned the ropes of her new position. Along with that, Hayden also knew what the councill was like. She had experience. "Do you think you can help me a bit through these next few meetings?" she asked, a bit skeptical. The councillor meetings always seemed to get very heated and messy when they were in a big group. There was always drama and fights but, when they were on task, it always seemed so... scary to share her thoughts and ideas. "I've really just been trying to hide as I adjust, but I need to start finding my place amongst them eventually," she explained. In her mind, if she had Hayden supporting and guiding her, perhaps she wouldn't be as much of a laughing stalk if she spoke up. It was really all she feared in the moment, becoming the 'worst councillor known to history'. God, even a book would be written about her and that wouldn't be good!
Ass-hats. Sapphira let out a genuine laugh that was joined with a real smile, and one that lasted. She had never expected for Hayden to say something like that, but here they were, kinda trash talking the nobles. And guess what, it felt good. "If we play our cards right perhaps we'll be able to dethrone and steal some of their power for the people," she said, a bit playful. The idea was dumb, something that would never happen. Or maybe it would, in just one in a million scenarios? Was that this scenarios though? Most likely not, so why try? Plus, it was a joke, and Sapphira knew that Hayden was also a noble. Hayden was also a noble. Hayden wasn't the right person to make that joke to. Well, nobody truly was the right person to discuss treason with because she should never be talking about treason in the first place. Well, shit.
Both of them had experienced the bullying at the hands of noble youth in Cogsworth. Sapphira remembered waking up and laying in her bed dreading the day ever single morning wondering who it was going to be torturing her that day. Draven Delacroix? Melody Seavey? It was always different but whoever it was always came back for more.
'Look at how greasy her hair is!' The memories of their words floated through her mind as she remembered what her life had been like a short time ago. It had only been six months since her graduation, and three of those months were on the council. 'Who would ever want a girl with that much grease on her hands!' The teasing never stopped, it had even followed her back from volunteering in the workforce and charities. 'Who would ever want to date a pig like you?' The laughter of the nobles had always been in her nightmares when she had them. She hated them, she hated it.
Snap out of it. They're not in your life anymore. Sapphira had to remind herself that. Not constantly anymore but it was still something she struggled with. She always got caught up in those accusations, those words, and tried to see if they were right. Looking at herself and trying to fix everything they saw. It was a habit she still had now, trying to make herself look perfect for the nobles. It wasn't healthy, it wasn't her. Sapphira needed to remember to find her own sense of self and not be the person that the nobles had bullied her into.
"You and I both know that neither of us deserved what we got," she said looking Hayden solemnly,"But we both survived and it's a part of the past and a part of our stories. I know me apologizing can't take you back in time and save you, but it can tell you that your not alone, and if you ever want to talk about your experiences, I'm open to it." That was partially true. A conversation that sensitive would be very awkward with the state their acquaintanceship was in. It would take time for them to talk about their shared experiences, if they ever grew that close. And that was a very big if considering how their relationship had gone so far.
She was also aware of the discomfort that radiated off Hayden. The other councillor wasn't comfortable talking about the topic which was a completely valid feeling to Sapphira. She was always a more open, laid out to everyone to see. Hayden was obviously the opposite of her, having lots of secrets and personal information. Those were things she didn't need or want to know as well.
After her years of bullying in the academy, she'd been lost. So so lost. She hadn't known where to go so she had spent an excess of time volunteering, ever single hour she'd had when she wasn't fussing about the imperfections that the nobles had made her so insecure about. All of that time had paid off in a way, the people had noticed her and liked her efforts. They liked it enough to want her as a councillor, and when the people set their mind to something, it happened. That was how Sapphira had gone from the least confident girl in Cogsworth to sitting at a table with all of the nobles that potentially made her life hell.
Sapphira being new to the counsel meant that she had never experienced, and never had to experience working alone. She would have Hayden to guide her. But had Hayden ever had anyone to guide her? Don't be an idiot. She's a noble. How did you forget that. She has her mother and probably a shit ton of other people to help her. Even if it wasn't helping the people.
The guard was back up. A wall of protection that time had let weaken. She needed to keep herself safe along with her people. Even though they shared ideals that didn't mean Hayden couldn't change. She just needed to remember she had to be stable enough on her own to survive without the other councillor. Just in case of any scenario that could happen: being removed or a betrayal, she had to be able to survive on her own.
The newfound strength of the wall in her mind stood as she diverted her attention. Hayden had begun to move on meaning so would she. The other councillor seemed surprised by the observation that she'd made earlier. It made her feel bad, like she'd been spying on something that she wasn't supposed to see. Sapphira reminded herself that she hadn't in fact been spying, just saw it as she'd made her way into the square.
"He was really cute," she said glancing over at Hayden. "I never really expected you to be the type of person to take care of kids," she added. That was true. Before today, she had no clue that councillor Hayden was helping the kids in orphanages. It had been on her own to-do list to look into but now, she knew that Hayden had that covered.
The kids were something that Sapphira had never known. Partially because all of the kids she'd know were toal brats and nobility who wanted to bully her, but also because the people she'd chosen had worked hard and always had advice to help her with her journey to her goals. Although, she'd never had any goals except graduating Cogsworth, that was until she got elected councillor by the people almost without her realizing.
Those kids were different from the ones she knew. They were the orphanage kids. Just like the girl she'd met when she was eight. Sapphira remembered holding onto her mother's skirt in front of a fruit stand begging for an apple which she so desperately craved. Her mother caved and bought it for her and as they were about to walk away Sapphria saw a tiny little skinny girl, one who looked starving. Even though she'd been craving that apple, she gave it to the girl who lit up so quickly, gave her the biggest hug in the world, and thanked her to the moon and back as though she'd given her a bag of diamonds. The tiny 8-year-old Sapphira hadn't understood the situation, but now, it clicked. The other girl had been an orphan, one who was being starved by the undersupported system. "I'm glad your their for those kids. They need someone like you, and they really love you," she told Hayden with a smile.
Hayden also supported the people through her families militia power. Something she got from being a noble. Although she despised the fact that the woman was still a noble, she noted that the power wasn't being abused for evil, it was being utilized to protect the people. One wrong move with that and she's out though. No matter how much she wanted to trust Hayden already, she still had to protect the people. No matter what Hayden said or did to sway her, her people always came first.
Sapphira allowed Hayden to change the subject. Pausing between the question and her response to allow her to finish processing and noting all of the important things that Hayden was telling her. If she had a notepad she'd be taking notes, no matter how tedious it was. She would always like to have them to refer to if it was needed. And surely one day it would be needed. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it could be in a year, or five years that she needed it. 'Remember don't stress Sapphira,' her dad's voice reminded as she began to overthink and she moved on.
"I work for the elderly, disabled, and impoverished mainly," she said giving a general answer to Hayden's question. It was different now then it used to be for her, so she didn't know where to start. Perhaps on what she used to do? Or present day? She began going through her memories until distinct ones stole her attention.
The memory from that morning flooded into her mind. The smiles and laughter taking over her mind as she remembered the baby pink apron she'd worn while surrounded by the sweetest smiles of old ladies. They had baked blueberry muffins and cleaned the kitchen together before sitting down for breakfast at a large table with all 15 of the homes inhabitants. She'd heard some of the best life stories from them and caught up with a few of the oldest residents who were still alive from her previous visits. She made sure to promise to come soon after plenty of hours of conversation and games of scrabble so she wouldn't be late to her other scheduled plans for the day.
Another memory took over as the last finished, this time from the day before. She'd been in a hospital overseeing the work of her newest charity making sure things ran smoothly. She'd met a mother who had been silently crying in the waiting room and had sat down to talk with her while she observed. After breaking the ice, she learned that the woman was a mother who's child had been in a terrible accident, one that paralyzed the poor daughter from the waist down. When she met the girl, the dullness in the girl's eyes had broken her heart and she made sure that the charity covered the girl's wheelchair and added a few extra fun decorations for when it would get delivered the next day. She hadn't/wouldn't be there when the girl got it, but it helped her feel better that she knew she'd helped.
The sound of people took over and the vision of bags and food came over her mind. People in ragged clothes, some shivering, walking down a life taking the food they could in bags. Some of the food on the tables were rotten and bad, and Sapphira always remembered grabbing it and putting it into compost so nobody accidently grabbed it. Then there was the piles of blankets and clothes for whoever needed a fresh set. She'd never gotten the opportunity to help give the new mothers things to help with their babies, there were always experienced mother helping in that department, giving out tips, formula, bottles, baby clothes, and baby blankets.
Sapphira suddenly became aware of the breeze in her hair and the sound birds chirping that was carried in it. She snapped back to reality, her eyes opening and sitting up straight quickly. Her head was tilted down almost like she'd fallen asleep but she'd been conscious the entire time, just lost in her thoughts and memories. "I'm so sorry," she said apologizing immediately as she remembered that councillor Hayden was beside her. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, Councillor Hayden. I completely zoned out." Panic was setting into her tone which she mentally silenced, or attempted to at least. They'd gotten through their preconceptions, they could get over her zoning out, surely. Plus, it wasn't like it had happened every five minutes, it was only just this once.
"Well, I guess I'll start with this: I got lost in my memories, you know the ones you cherish because the people are so deserving of your care and it feels like a blessing that your the lucky person to give it to them?" It was merely a set-up question, no a transition question. If Hayden had been working long enough, the woman would surely know the feeling. In just her 3 months she'd had plenty of those moments.
"Well, like I said before zoning out, I work with the disabled, elderly, and impoverished," she began leaning back and turning her attention to look at Hayden. She had forgotten to after their sensitive moment and felt rude not to do so now after remembering. Better late then never, right? "Well, my work from back before being elected and now are very different. I used to get so much time with the community, volunteering for charities and food drives, spending time with the elderly in assisted living. Now it's a lot more sophisticated, controlled, and scheduled. I run food drives for the impoverished, we give out safe and nutritious food along with clothes, blankets, and toys to the kids. I've also done a bit of work trying to help them get more job oportunities, though that process is slow and currently unsuccessful minus like three people. I make sure to fund the assisted living homes and spend time with them to make sure they're doing well. And my newest project is a charity for the disabled, giving medical equipment or funds to those who need it's assistance: think wheelchairs, crutches, casts, medications, etc."
There was a pause as Sapphira pondered in her thoughts. She also did try to fight for the workforce although she needed more time for any of that to be successful. I might as well mention it in case Hayden has knowledge she can bestow upon me. "One more I just remembered, one of the things I used to do as a little kid was assist however I could in the workforce and factories. Just doing whatever jobs they'd let me to do help. I saw some pretty rowdy stuff while I was there so I've tried to look into making laws and fighting for their rights but I truly don't know where to start."
The memories of being a 13 year old girl pulling wooden crates around a factory of exhausted male workers took over her. She remembered seeing them working for over 36 hours straight. The way the sweat would pour down their foreheads and the skinniness of their bodies, showing bones and ribs, was very concerning. They didn't get enough water, always dehydrated in the terrible sun, and they rarely got food. Not to mention, the safety regulations were so outdated that there was at least one accident a month that would take a mans life, and every day a different man would be rushed to the hospital. And to top that all off, she remembered asking one day, how much they made to stay in such terrible conditions? 'It scraps up enough to keep at least one meal on the table for my wife and daughter,' was the response one of the workers had given her before returning to his work.
If she was going to make a difference, a lot of things would have to change. Hopefully starting with new workforce laws and rules to end the mass injury and deprivation of vital supplements to human life. After that she could focus on getting them back on their feet. Of course, unless Hayden had a better idea to get the workforce into a better condition, thought the woman hadn't mentioned it when she spoke about what she did.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒏"That was my plan, yes," Caledonia replied evenly, giving Sapphira a nod. She had noticed that, how Daenerys kept to herself the first few meetings--hiding, she called it now--and how she had been quieter than the majority of the people in that room. Which she had wondered about, not knowing if it meant Daenerys was 1.) stuck up; 2.) shy; 3.) nervous, or 4.) hating everyone around her, like Cal was. But she now got the sense it was a combination of maybe nerves and unsure where to place herself, and that was why Cal had reached out. In a pit of vipers, sometimes, she had to play as nice as she could. Now, Council wasn't even the biggest problem--there was at least one other common-born--and Cal was just glad Sapphira didn't have to attend stupid noble gatherings. Those, somehow almost more than Council meetings, had Cal dipping, or feeling as if a noose was perpetually around her neck and getting tighter with every passing second. "It may take time," she added. "To find that place, and that's okay. Just--don't let the nobles on Council bully you into their own agenda, because often that agenda will only be bettering their own wealth, adding to it, when they already have more than ever should have had to begin with. Council is made up of people from all backgrounds. Or," she added darkly, "it should be." There was a conspiracy she had wondered at, about Council elections being rigged towards certain noble houses. The Delacroix were one of them--they seemed to always have someone on Council, and yet, growing up as someone that house despised, she had no idea what would drive the people to even vote in another disgusting Delacroix. "But just know, Councilor Daenerys, that you have every single right to be there and share your ideas as anyone else does. If not more right than some of the nobles. But yes, I will," Cal finished firmly with a nod, having leaned over a little bit, hands clasped. Maybe it was a very casual pose, and not one she should be leaning into at some sort of business meeting, but sitting down, her posture had never been up to "standard" for nobles.
Nothing about her ever had. It wasn't in her blood, it wasn't in her nature, and her mother certainly had never cared. No amount of harping, or worse, from her father had ever fixed most of it, anyway. She could pretend, but sitting down and not trying to maintain a useless image was easier sometimes.
But Cal just made a grunting sound and shook her head, shifting again. That was the other thing about her--sitting still was not and never had been her strong suit. From a young age, Caledonia had been active, and she'd had a hard time not getting up, or staying one place, at Cogsworks, and at the lengthy, stifling meetings between noble families. Those were the worst. Even now, she found herself shifting positions every few seconds, as if the very bones in her body had been made to always move, always fight. It didn't help that peace and safety were two concepts she didn't know, and had never quite known, so she was always watching, always tensing and ready to run, to fight, to escape.
"Look," she said after a moment, tapping the ball of her booted foot on the ground. She had no problem with Sapphira talking borderline treason. After all, it wasn't like Cal hadn't occasionally dreamed of somehow destroying each noble family who acted like a complete dunce. She craved justice for the people nobility stepped on, and it pissed her off they had some Council that was a good idea and then the nobility who still fund a way to flaunt their wealth and overrun that council. "Ideally. Yes. I've thought about it before." Sending a cursory glance around them once before lowering her voice, she sighed and ran a hand down the side of her face, holding in a wince when she brushed it across her right cheek, still tender from her arena fights two nights ago. She may have kicked three peoples' asses into the dirt, but fights were fights, and she never got away unscathed, even a little. "If we could--redo the political structure of Voxthain, as well as the social structure, that would be ideal. But the sad thing is, Council in itself is actually not a bad arrangement...in theory. You have seven people elected from the people, and the problem arises when you start rigging those elections. Now. You can't say anything about this, but a few people wonder--myself included--if there are noble families who are doing just that. Always making sure to somehow get one of them on the Council when another steps down. The Delacroixs are a particular problem in that area, and they're someone to watch out for. So, ideally, Council is a good idea. But the nobles? That's what I want to get rid of."
Because more than Sapphira had experienced due to not being forced to live in their world, Cal had been tormented by these people. Not just at Cogsworks, but at events she had attended, when she had to visit them, and by her own father. It hurt her, to know some people only saw her as one of them, when she had done everything she could to make sure people knew she was not like them--and not truly one of them at all. Her birth was public knowledge, so if she knew Sapphira only saw her as a noble, well, that was...not something she would take kindly to. Cal had suffered, more than Daenerys had, at these peoples' hands, torn in half, stuck between two worlds that sometimes wanted nothing to do with her, growing up as the easiest scapegoat the nobles had. She was not one of them, she was the one who was always blamed for a "lice outbreak" among the nobility because she was a "dirty gutter orphan". She was the one they beat up, mocked relentlessly at Cogsworks and at home. Home was supposed to be one's solace. Instead, hers was a living nightmare, and she had never felt comfortable among wealth, draped in silk, with too much. Cal didn't need things, she gave everything away. The guilt gripping her insides at being taken into a noble family when the kids she had been in the orphanage with were mostly dead was crippling some days. And yet, if Sapphira only saw her as a noble, well, truly, fuck her. Cal would leave her in the dust, she had only been trying to help her, but if nobody could acknowledge her, or her own feelings--who was she kidding. Nobody did. Nobody ever would. She was not noble enough for the nobility (fine. she didn't want to be, she just wanted the pain to end), and apparently, she didn't fit in with the people either. And yet, she loved them. She adored the kids, she loved helping people because she didn't want anyone to experience what she had. Cal had put all her effort into starting those orphanages and into starting shelters for women and girls facing domestic abuse. Into starting programs and charities to give food to people who needed it, and medical supplies, free of any trade. She knew personally what happened when one couldn't afford it--they could die, just like her birth mother, and what fucking right did nobles have to charge outrageous prices for services? None.
She had once been close to the Thorne family, the noble family in charge of the medical stations and the entire hospital organization. The Thornes were good people, as far as nobles went, the patriarch hadn't even been noble himself, and he had done so much towards easing prices and making medical care more accessible, and Cal knew, even now that he was dead, his daughter, Avaliyah, was very involved in making sure everyone got what they needed, of all social classes. So, yes, there were some benefits to being noble, because you could ensure that. But Cal still strongly believed it was wrong for one family to have everything, and the people nothing at all.
And it was wrong of people to lump her completely into that category, because nobody realized she was a commoner in their world. Nobody realized how much she was hurt by them. Day in and day out. She had had to fight for every drop of respect, but even now, she was brushed aside, she was given backhanded compliments and disgusting jeers when people thought she couldn't hear them. Cal knew if there was ever some awful crime, some theft, of noble items, she'd be the first suspect.
To them, she'd never not be the orphan. Dirty. Unclean.
And she would tear Sapphira apart if she dared tell Cal she believed she was nothing but a noble. Screw her. Cal would die for the people she vowed to protect.
"They have no right to rig elections, to--to own so much when others are suffering," she continued, her voice tight, a muscle in her jaw twitching with that tension. "I've been trying for years to take what--what privilege I now have and turn that around for the good of the people. And I know some others who have as well, but when you get classist nobles who have their heads up their asses, it's...hard. It's infuriating, and I have been trying to find ways to get more power to the people. The system is just...rigged. Council and nobility really don't go hand in hand, hence why they try and...rig elections. I just..." Closing her eyes, Cal massaged her forehead, around the top of her nose, and she pressed her lips together, shaking her head once. "It's wrong. It's wrong." What else was there to say on the matter? If there was a way to eliminate nobility, she would be all down for that. As long as there as a proper system to replace it with.
Have the Council run the militia, have real, good organizations end up running charities and hospitals. Good people. "But short of a coup against nobility, I don't know what else we can do for a dramatic change like that. Which." She sat up a little, a small spark in her eyes. "If my family did stage a coup against the nobles, it could work. We own the militia, they're our soldiers. Meaning, nobody would have the manpower to stand against us. The only problem would be convincing the soldiers...and the magic other families wield. The Delacroix are skilled mages, more than most. And for a system in place, just--letting a fairly-elected Council of all types of people have a say, create a new system for how to distribute goods. Anyway." Cal cleared her throat.
As a rule, she didn't talk much. But when Caledonia had something to say, and cared deeply about a subject, she could go on about it. "However. Right now, we have a citywide problem. There's been a mysterious string of murders, as well as the shadowfog encroaching, and until those are dealt with, because the shadowfog will kill anyone it touches--we can't make...treasonous changes yet. So for now, we focus on helping improve lives best we can from what we have right now. Because if that shadowfog hits us...everyone dies."
A chill broke out among her skin, and Cal swallowed hard, but she tried to push it aside. Still, in her nightmares, it came for her, the roiling, writhing shadow that nobody could stop. It had since it had been at her and Mama's heels as they fled--it had been coming, the matron had shouted. But in that chaos, her life had burned, and it was burn or get consumed by shadows. And now, it was coming back. It was coming to consume Voxthain, and Cal would damned if she let it do that, if she let it eat the people while the nobles ran. But even then, only Asterath could save everyone, being underground. Yet, Cal knew they needed an actual solution to the fog, and soon.
Cal just shrugged. There had been times she had almost agreed with the nobles who continued to harass her every chance they could. Who told her she would never amount to anything, told her she would always be the filthy stray nobody had wanted. There had been days she had been left furious, in detention at school for punching them for saying something humiliating, hurtful, and degrading, but there had been days where she had been curled up in her room, hiding in corners, bleeding or beaten and her hope crushed, because if her adoptive father and her birth father saw fit to abandon and then abuse her, maybe there really was something wrong with her. Inherently wrong, something unloveable. Maybe she was fit to be stuck under someone's shoe all her life. But then, she had realized, that would mean everyone like her was, too, and like hell was that true.
Only thinking of the other people who the nobility spat on had helped her realize, no, maybe she had value. Because they did, so that meant she did, too.
Cal stiffened, jerking up when Sapphira said she was open to it if Cal every wanted to...talk about it. She almost recoiled, her sense of discomfort growing. Rarely did she ever talk about it, she had hid that bullying and that torment for as long as possible, even from her mother. Because the truth was, being adopted was its own trauma, and one that nobody seemed to care about. Her mother loved her, she knew this, so much, but her father--both of them--and the orphanage matron had had her convinced as a mere toddler, a mere child, she was a burden. And her adoptive father had never stopped threatening to send her back to an orphanage, telling her that her mother would toss her out into the street where she belonged, like the trash she was, if she misbehaved. So Cal had been afraid to tell Mama she was getting harassed in school every day. She loved the woman, the first adult to treat her right, and she had been terrified out of her wits to admit she wasn't fitting in, that she was scared and alone and that being viciously bullied would just have Katarina hissing that she wasn't grateful for being taken in, that she was too much to handle, and throwing her into the trash.
It was only when she eighteen did she see how much her mother truly adored her, loved her like her own, that she never would have done anything like that. But at eighteen, her childhood had already come and gone in a flurry of torment that, try as she may, Cal would never forget. It clung to her like sharp barbs, and it was another reason she spent so much time with the kids at the orphanage. She never wanted them to feel less than like she had for so, so many painful years.
"Thanks," was all she managed to reply to when Sapphira offered that, her voice stilted and her muscles so clearly tight with tension. She forced her eyes to briefly meet Sapphira's before she averted them back to her shoes. Talking about it also made her feel weak, like she couldn't handle herself. And that wasn't healthy, of course not, but Cal had never been one to know how to healthily handle her emotions. She'd gotten better about her anger control--sort of--but she was not an open book and didn't know how to be.
So, yes, it would anger her a lot to know Sapphira worried Cal would somehow support the nobility over the people. But, again, Cal did worry Sapphira only cared about social climbing for herself--out of the two of them, Sapphira was dressed as a noble would, not Cal--and she definitely didn't trust people she had never met before. Still.
Cal's jaw twitched at that. Why? Why the hell did that hurt so much, the curl of offense spreading through her chest? Maybe because of my own damn wall. She knew she came across as cold, unapproachable, but...she had to remind herself Sapphira was a good five years younger than her. Cal had, at Cogsworks, stood up for any student she saw who was being bullied, and occasion, maybe Sapphira was one of them, she just didn't remember. All she remembered was feeling very angry that the nobles still pushed the commoners around, and that it felt good to punch people like Delacroix, Calico, and Seavey in their faces. Make them bleed the way they had made everyone else bleed.
"Um. Yeah," she finally responded, taking a deep breath, the fresh water from the fountains bubbling cheerfully as the fresh-earthy smell from the flowers around her served to try and keep a grounding, calming hold on her. She released the sword and reached for a flower, plucking it from the box and twirling the stem between her fingers. A few lilac-colored petals drifted down next to her, some landing on her lap, a stark contrast to her black pants. "Well. I do." A small, hard tone entered her voice. Nobody thought her capable of actually caring about people? Most she didn't trust, and nobles she would burn and laugh. But the kids? Her babies? Screw Sapphira. The truth was, Caledonia wanted to adopt all of them, but that wasn't reasonable, and she knew she also was not emotionally ready to raise a child. But she had always loved kids, and one day, though that dream was far, far off, she wanted to adopt children with her wife. Her imaginary wife who didn't exist and probably never would, but it was her most wholesome personal dream that...well. Would most likely never, ever happen.
"Thanks," she replied stiffly. "They're everything to me." All she wanted was to keep them safe and happy. She had vetted the people running the orphanages, and every month she spoke to the kids privately, giving them the chance to be honest with her--were they being cared for? Loved? They came first, and always would, she often, she would skip noble galas and instead be found in the orphanages, reading to the kids, playing ball with them, or helping them with their homework, provided she knew the subject well enough. She knew how society hated and looked down on orphans, and she wasn't going to let these kids grow up unloved.
Funny, given Cal also didn't trust Sapphira. But how Sapphira was planning to "out" Cal if she did something wrong with the militia, if Cal had known, was laughable to her. Good luck. But on the other hand, once again, she would be furious, because the people meant more to her than the nobles. But that was the price she paid for a roof over her head, apparently. Nobles hated her, but evidently some commoners saw her as a noble through and through. Why couldn't someone just see...her? For once in her damn life? Stop making assumptions. She did all she could to use her power and position for good. Her mother, too. She, Mama, and Selene all worked to turn that militia around. And the truth was, Cal often allowed crime to slide. Not abuse and harassment, but theft. Whenever she saw someone in the city thieving, she'd quietly arrest them, but ask why. If it was a person struggling to feed their family, she'd simply give them food, items to trade for more food, and let them go. But nobles? People who stole when they didn't need to? Jail. She would sooner quit the militia than let it turn into an abuse of power, and would if it ever did.
Cal's dark brows raised when Sapphira suddenly...stopped talking. But, honestly, she didn't care. It gave her an opportunity to simply breathe, to try and tamp down on the levels of discomfort, anger, and anxiety this conversation had brought about. Briefly, her mind drifted to Ceonrei--she hoped the bitch was having fun with her broken hand--before she tried to re-focus on the birds chirping, the shout of laughter from children running by. But she was also getting a little irritated the longer Sapphira's doze-out went on. Was this how she'd be in Council, ignoring people and daydreaming about who-knew-what?
Great. Zoned out. Cal bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something snarky, and instead nodded once, curtly. She understood wanting to zone out--nobles were boring as hell--but for someone who claimed to care, to want support, to then just...zonk out? It was a little rude, and Cal's frown hopefully gave that away. Until she explained herself, and then her frown eased. "Ah. Um. Yeah. I do." And she did, truly. She had so many good memories with the children, and memories of actually making a difference for people. With the women, Cal always listened to them, and then went after their abusers, locking them behind bars. And she had no ego about it, she simply cherished knowing she had helped another woman, or hurt child, be safe, and not be made to live in a dangerous environment. So badly, she wished she had had someone to take away her abuser when she'd been a child, and her mother would have, but she hadn't known because Cal had been too scared to tell her, and because she had covered up all evidence best she could, until that one night nobody could. "It's--fine," she replied haltingly.
Cal nodded once. "I also work with the impoverished," she replied. "Finding them jobs if I can, making sure they have more than enough to get by, to actually have some extra to get back on their feet. It's a relief to know someone else does, as well." Because the more people who had the means to help out and did, the better and healthier Voxthain would become as a whole. But, the elderly and disabled, well...a sense of shame flooded across her systems. Cal would help them if she saw them struggling, yes, but her efforts for charities and her focuses were not on them, and it had never quite hit her to help them. "I-I'm glad. That you help the elderly. Admittedly, I don't usually. My focuses were on...other people. But, together, with you advocating for them on Council, I think that's good. And disabled, I...well. That's amazing you do that truly." She gave Sapphira a small smile. "I have, again, advocated for the cost of medical supplies to be lowered, ideally to free, and worked with the Thornes, who are in charge of hospitals, but I guess I never really focused on the disabled as much..." She tapped her fingers together in thought, lips pursed, before speaking again. "I think with our combined efforts, we can make more change than before, though."
She reached for the lilac flower again, this time brushing her calloused fingers across the soft petals. Workers' rights were things that Cal had mentioned, because she was an avid supporter of taxes being lowered, of making sure families and people had ways to support themselves, and she knew how bad some work places were, but she had never had that as a major, major focus. It had been in the back of her mind, so it was good Sapphira was bringing it up. Because to be fair, one person couldn't do it all. "I think that's a brilliant thing to fight for," she said honestly, nodding respectfully at her colleague. "And while I have mentioned things to Council, you do seem like you have more experience being in those types of workplaces. I hear people talk, but I have not explored those places myself between the rest of my work. I should have. And maybe just this once my...noble uprbinging worked against me in that department, as I always had a steady job that...wasn't working for hours in places like that. But those people deserve just as much rights as everyone else, and I would be honored to fight for actively for them getting better conditions. I already want lowered taxes and better pay. But I will stand with you on this to take it further."
Mod
[i love you guys, this is absolutely beautiful but insane 😭😭]
((XD I can write way too much with Cal if nobody stops me, I’ve had her for four years almost so she’s very familiar and easy ish for me to write haha))
[totally agree on the insane part Rory. this is a record for me lol]
Sapphira Kiah Daenerys ⋆⁺₊⋆ Voxthain Councillor
While Councillor Hayden advised her Sapphira listened quite attentively. Taking in all of the information knowing whether or not the two turned out friendly together, it would be good information to remember. Being on the council was hard, she'd seen quite a lot of gruesome stuff already. Manipulation, peer pressure, and cold threats to keep it simple. She couldn't imagine what else happened behind the scenes. It only felt like a preview that she'd seen so far.
The other councillors hadn't really noticed her presence yet. From her knowledge. Nobody except Hayden. Probably a good thing for her, meant she'd survive outside the drama for a bit longer which was lovely. The only downside meant that she only had connections with Hayden and nobody else. Did she really want connections with anyone else though? Absolutely not. They were all nobles, coming from the houses with too much money and spending greedily while the people of their city starve and burn.
"I won't," she said giving Hayden a nod. She wouldn't. She wasn't a push-over like some people, she knew how to start her ground. Although, if they tried to threaten her into doing something for them that would be a different story. She had to think on the bright side, who would seriously threaten the new girl who was three months into serving the city? Nobody in their right mind she hoped.
"What are your insights on the other five?" Sapphira asked curiosity in her tone. While they were talking about the council she might as well ask. She had been curious to find out somebody who knew them's perspective on each. She'd heard the stories, backgrounds-- all of which were noble-- and rumors about each councillor. But hearing somebodies real opinion could tell her a lot more. Being new meant she had to learn everything over again. Finding her footing and figuring out who she could work with. Currently, that was only Hayden. But if she were to expand her sources, or was forced to, who should she reach out too? Who had tendencies to play dirty on the council? Who did she need to avoid at all costs?
Sapphira let the other councillor go on and on. The woman had obviously put so much more thought into the idea then she ever had personally. Although, she had only had three months to think about it and of those three months she had been extremely busy. The fact that Hayden had so many details ironed in her mind: utilizing the militia to overthrow specific royal families to take back the city of Voxthain for the people. It sounded like a utopia, a perfect place for the people to live. That was at least until someone new and power hungry took over the government. Sadly it was bound to happen. So why try in the first place? Sapphira had no clue. But the passion that Hayden had swayed her ideas. She noticed the way the woman checked to make sure nobody was around before venting some very well thought out plans to her. If she had been anyone else, she might have gone to the councillors and tattled but she knew that that would never end well for her. Plus, did she really want to do that? No. She like the fact that somebody had a good idea for a rebellion, and that that rebellion had a chance for success. The part she didn't like however was that it would be done by a noble. Perhaps if Hayden ever went through with the idea the militia should become a public military for the people rather then a private militia.
"If the system is redone, we need to make sure it stays that way. No more steps backward. They need a solid constitution of laws that make sure nothing is rigged and nobody becomes too powerful," Sapphira finally said to speak her mind. She had paid attention to everything Hayden had said. The Delacroix's being way too powerful for sure, "If we remove the nobility, we need to rid of all the families, not just the ones who rig the elections. Sure, the Thornes are assisting in healthcare, but we are not like them. If we redo the system then all of it is gone, and that way there is no way for the Delacroix's or anyone else for that matter to marry back into power and rig the system again." She did not add her thoughts on the militia into her words, though they were surely implied. She didn't want to offend the other councillor, the the woman had not mentioned a single word about her giving up her title herself. That could easily mean that she was going to keep the power for herself and rid everyone else of the power to become omnipotent.
The treason would have to wait. There was shadowfog to deal with. Sapphira had heard of the shadowfog but just mere stories and rumors. Nothing that truly described what the city was up against. And mysterious deaths as well? Totally interesting but definitely not up her ally, unless it was affecting the people terribly. The other councillors are all talking about that excessively though.
"What is the shadowfog?" she asked tipping her head. All she'd heard of it was arguments between councillors and horror stories. Nobody had properly informed her about the shadowfog. She was basically clueless because of her deprivation to vital information on the topic. "I also don't really know much about the deaths being discussed as well," she added quietly, a bit embarrassed by how uneducated she was.
What was the extent of her knowledge? One: that shadowfog kills. Two: that people are showing up dead randomly. Were the random deaths affiliated with shadowfog, a mutation perhaps? She had no clue. She also didn't want to suggest the idea since it could easily bring mass panic. That was not a good solution to any of their problems.
She felt dumb, a bit stupid too having to ask such questions. She had been in the meetings with all of the councillors and heard the solutions and situations they were arguing about with the subject, but did she have a good grasp on the danger at all? No. That was a minor-- most certainly major-- oversight made by herself. She should have asked sooner but she hadn't wanted to embarrass herself and give the councillors something to bully her about. She could just imagine it now 'Councillor Clueless', and with all their gold and shit they'd probably even get her a gold-plated name tag just to rub it in even more. It would be such a waste, but none of it had happened she reminded herself. She hadn't asked in the group, and that's why she was trying to get informed now, in a safer environment because Hayden wouldn't go around spreading rumors and bully her like that right? With the woman's background surely not.
Councillor Caledonia Hayden was an interesting character in Sapphira's eyes when she looked back to process the woman. Plenty of things didn't add up to her or didn't make the most sense. For starters, the woman was a common-born that was adopted by a noble. That's where the confusion began. Why had Hayden been adopted by nobility rather then a normal family? What was so special about Hayden? Was anything special about Hayden? Sapphira had no clue. The woman had experienced bullying similar to what Sapphira had experienced at Cogsworth academy. Somehow, it felt to Sapphira that Hayden's had either been better or worse. The nobles wouldn't bully a noble as bad as a common-born but perhaps they'd bully a common-born noble more then a common-born. It really didn't matter, well it kind of did to her. They did have similar experiences, but that didn't mean they were the same person. Not at all, Hayden still had the title, the respect, and had not misaligned herself from it. Sure, perhaps it meant she had plans to help the people from that title but she could have done something to make it more obvious she wasn't the same. Unless she wasn't. Sapphira was unsure on that. Still making up her mind. She hadn't completely decided her position quite yet. Besides that, there was also the fact that Hayden had a good heart, at least that she'd seen. The councillor was kind and sweet, good with kids, not the best with adults. That was understandable, not everyone was the best in social spaces.
Having a councillor to work with her for the people was also nice. Sapphira didn't doubt Hayden's skills, the woman had been working diligently for five years on charity and bettering society for the people. This wasn't some manipulation tactic, and it it was then she had to give it to Hayden for putting in so much effort. But did she really believe that this was manipulation or anything of that sort? No, she knew Hayden was genuine. Especially after what she saw with the little orphan boy earlier today.
Sapphira's mind was battling between the green and red flags. Which did she believe? Which could she trust? Was Hayden good or bad? It was a hard decision, and she really couldn't decide. Everything weighed itself out right now. There was no perfect factor that would tip Hayden over the edge on either side so she remained neutral. There was no point on trying and making more preconceptions, that hadn't gone well the first time. She would just go on the facts, what she's seen and heard. And so far, she had some but not enough to make a judgement on if Hayden was going to be a hero or a villain in her book. She was certainly leaning hero, the woman had done so much work towards everything, but there was always one detail that the woman had left out that made her suspicious. For example overthrowing the government and nobles but not mentioning getting rid of her own noble title. She could have added easily a 'i'd gladly get rid of it' because the nobles had been so cruel to her, or a 'even though i'm hesitant, I'd get rid of it because it would support my goal', but no, she'd given nothing. There were a few of those moment that made Sapphira hesitant on fully trusting Hayden. But overall, she believed the woman was a good person with a terrible past. Perhaps the past had transformed her into who she'd become today, that was a very believable story, one she hoped was true as well. She had to remember, remind herself, that even though she'd 'known' Hayden for three months at this point, that was not enough to fully trust the woman. This was only their first one on one interaction and true conversation. There was a lot more 'get to know' and stuff that needed to happen before Hayden was fully trustable but for now, Sapphira was happy to call the woman a trustable acquaintance.
They in fact were still definitely acquaintances. She had no clue why she had made such an offer as to talk together about their experienced being bullied. "Sorry," Sapphira said noticing Hayden's newfound discomfort in the situation. Even thought the topic was lighter on her now that she'd overcome the words-- not the fear of the people who said those words-- she was more open to talking about it. Her own self reflection and the way she'd spent her time with other people had retaught her about her own self worth, something that had been forgotten when she was bullied. Although that was her situation, it wasn't everyone's. Hayden may never want to talk about it, or she may still carry the scars of it, like the occasional nasty comments that flew through her mind. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's too sensitive of a topic," she said, apologizing again. She felt guilty. Bad that she had caused so much discomfort to the other councillor and that she had been so careless as to forget that everyone handles experiences differently. That included Hayden because the woman was human, not because she was noble or common-born, because she was human.
A new lighter thought entered her mind, one that was kinder then the assumptions she'd made that were most likely not true (she had made a promise of no more preconceptions to herself so all options are welcome). "If you're ever open to the idea, let me know. No pressure to say yes though. I realize it's a sudden topic and really weird coming from a coworker who you just met for the first time." That last part was kind of funny to her. She was way to open for her own good. She knew that somehow, her easy openess in someone would backfire. Sure, she had walls, but were they crumbled easily. And in this new world of nobility and councillors that was not a good thing, that was a terrible thing. That would cause her great harm. She could imagine the rumors and the stories and everything else travelling around her in her new life just like it had in Cogsworth.
NO. Snap out of it. She had to make a point to leave the Cogsworth bullying behind her. At some point if she was persistent enough that voice in her head with all of the negativity that was thrown at her would be dispelled from her. If she kept up being positive for herself, then it would mean that all of the bullying scars, the mental ones, would be healed. Sure, they were healed now, but maybe one day she wouldn't even have bad thoughts anymore. That's what she truly wished for. A perfect utopian mind. A wish that won't happen. More negative thoughts, but utopias never happen, if they do they fall apart worse then a non-utopian society.
Sure, her mind was a mess, but what about the rest of her. How well had she recovered from all of those bullies. Well, the scars on her wrists and arms had disappeared, mostly. Her mind was still in an uphill battle since those words are programmed into it after so many years of hearing them. But otherwise, she was doing pretty well for herself. Sure, she worked in a toxic community of nobles, that wasn't the part she liked, but she did help the people she loved and grew up with. The people who believed in her and gave her more chances then she deserved to prove herself to them. Her two biggest supporters: Ruby and Micheal Daenerys.
Her parents had shown her so much love throughout her life. Giving her everything they could, sacrificing to pay for her Cogsworth education, and now that she is successful, they still give to her like she's a precious jewel in their lives. Sapphira still remembers the gift her father gave her the moment he saw her after hearing the news of her won election: the exact gorgeous white dress she was wearing. Often times, she never told anyone the meaning behind the dress or much of the clothing she had, it did fit in well with the nobility, but it was all, mostly all, gifts. The shoes were never gifts but everything else was. The fancy dresses, the three purses, the hair accessories (those were from when she was younger and not a councillor though), and more. She did have normal clothes, but with everything everyone gave her, and the fact that she felt rude to reject a gift, she often wore the nice clothes. It did feel a bit stuck-up at times, like now when Hayden wore the fanciest normal outfit known to mankind.
When she had become a councillor, the people had started giving her gifts of dresses and accessories to thank her for her efforts and service. At the time, she had had no clue what to do so she accepted them with gratitude and made an effort to wear them. Eventually it had become too many and she had had to sit down and contemplate a solution. The one she'd come up with was an address to the people that had never reached the ears of nobility. The address had asked kindly to stop of gifts and donations directly to her and to start donating and volunteering for any of her charities. It had been a perfect solution and solved all of her problems in the moment. In the aftermath however, it had left her with plenty of guilt since she felt that she should have done the address sooner. She always reminded herself that the hours she'd spent thinking of how to write the address and what to do were something she'd done then and not before. She hadn't had the ideas. Now, she walked with that guilt wondering if she should sell some of the dresses that she couldn't wear of guilt but that brings her more guilt, selling a gift.
Besides that catastrophe in her life, she sees herself as sunshine and rainbows. That's a complete lie, there is also the council drama in her life that makes it miserable. BUT besides that as well, her life is sunshine and rainbows. She gets to spend her days in a small apartment that she bought and lives from in the middle of the city. It's not the fanciest place but it's home. She also got to spend her free time, or the parts of her days that it's scheduled for volunteering like she had done before she was a councillor. Spending time with the friends and families that needed assistance, laughing, sharing stories, wisdom, and creating the best of memories for them to share together.
Of her memories, the newest were her fresh from the paper charity. The one she'd overlooked the day prior for the disabled. The goal target of the charity was to get anyone who needed the monetary assistance to get the medical attention and equipment to them. It had been a hard thing to plan. Almost two months total. And now that she had succeeded it was hard watching it run. Making a charity organization from scratch was a brand new concept but she'd succeeded.
The Thornes family had been working in the hospitals is what she'd heard from the bird on the telephone pole. However, they were obviously not doing enough. The prices were rising, medical equipment was becoming less accessible, and people were not getting the treatment they deserved. Sure, hospitals were up to code, saving lives of those with money, but that didn't mean it met the goal of her targeted people. Sure, Thornes helped out middle society of Voxthain, but what about the low impoverished society of Voxthain? The people who die of hunger, hypothermia, rabies, infections, and everything else that a hospital can treat? The Thornes had done nothing for them.
Sapphira had to remain civil for now. "What exactly have they done for the hospitals?" she asked insightfully. "There are few changes that I've seen that can be long to people of such power." Accidently and against her will she had transitioned back into her fancy talk. everything was polished and posh just like the nobles had always expected of everyone they associated with. "I'm so sorry, instinct got the best of me," she said apologizing, her voice timid with embarrassment. They had already gone over this whole thing once, and this was her at least second mistake she'd make. What if Hayden began to judge her for how forgetful or clumsy she was? First zoning out while talking and now this.
While Hayden's judgement and opinions on her were certainly decreasing at the minute, from what she figure. No preconceptions. She had to remind herself again. While the woman was a noble, Sapphira had to try her best to not treat her exactly like one. Sure, she could be cautious around the other councillor for obvious reasons, but she also had to be careful about how far she took things. For example, Hayden had already tried to exemplify that she was not like the other nobles. If she wasn't like the other nobles then she would decide to not hate her for this tiny mistake. She would laugh it off with her, tell me I'm alright, and the world would move on. Would it? She had no clue, Hayden had been a hard person to read, with her limited skills. The woman was unpredictable to Sapphira.
Pushing the worries aside she continued on, "As I was saying before that," referencing the formalness that had snuck into her voice which was completely gone now, "It is hard to see the improvements in the hospitals. Sure, prices are down a bit, but that means that those in the middle class of society are able to get them more freely, not lower class. My concern with the hospitals is their focus on the money they can get from people, if you have money to give they'll take it. It's quite cruel." She was rambling. The thought came to stop it, but she pushed it aside. "Additionally, the homeless population of Voxthain may be low but it is not zero. I have tried to help them but it is quite hard to do so when they are constantly in poor health and I can do nothing to get them healthcare. All I can do is watch them die. It's disheartening that the hospitals are so money focused that they will throw aside somebody who is in need of help." There was a pause where she took a shaky breath, "I remember a time when I was assisting a grandfather on his hospital trip for a health check-up. While I was in the waiting room, a homeless woman with two kids, a young daughter and son, no older then five, came in. It was the dead of winter, all three were freezing, definitely sick with lethal hypothermia. I watched as the hospital staff kicked them out. I could do nothing because I was a broke Cogsworth student and it broke my heart to see security escort people in need of medical attention out to go die within hours." There was a pause as she felt waves of sadness overcome her. It had been so disheartening to her to watch that in person and it hurt more now telling the story since she had been helpless. If it happened again, she would pay for the three to get medical attention without second thought and pay all of their bills so that they could return healthy to the world. Sadly, the world wasn't so kind.
Another thing she always saw causing hospital visits was the workplace. All of the injuries and everything else that she had to do for them. She had to fight for them. But how? How did the councillors fight for their people? How did they voice their opinions? "What would you do?" she finally asked, "If you wanted to fight for something so broad. Workplace rights. There are so many twists and turns in the subject that I have no idea where to start. Do I draft a bill for the council? Do I give a speech to the people?" She paused taking a breath. There was so much to do for them, and she hadn't gotten to look at the situation in a while. it could only have gotten worse. "There is so little safety code in the machines fields that workers are getting life changing injuries, almost to the point of once a day. I've noticed that some of them are the ones in need of the disabilities charity I run which brings me to the poor salary. Then there is just the simple things like having a healthy workday and work schedule." She explained briefly to Hayden what she was looking at, what she had to fight for. "What would you do to start?" she asked again, repeating her first question.
Becoming a councillor had been so new to her, quite overwhelming. She had so much new power, she could make so many changes. She had the ability to fight for her people. It was all a lot for her to take in. And with all of that combined it was so overwhelming. The charities, the volunteering, the council meetings, the crippling society, the dangers, the plans, the plots, the problems, the solutions, the late nights, the early mornings, the tears, the struggles...
It all was just.. overwhelming.
Sometimes, Sapphira wondered when she'd crash, or when her mind would finally settle on one topic rather then thinking about the current and next three things she had to handle. The stress she felt on the council was overwhelming. She had a responsibility that she felt she had to complete but she had no clue how. No clue at all how. Where to start, where to end, or what that responsibility was. All she knew was that she cared for the people. The people were her priority. The people came first. Everything else came second, including Hayden, no matter how much that woman fought for the same thing she did.
