Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2014 15:11:43 GMT -8
*currently Xifang is 19 years old. She's been estranged from her family for 3 years now. Prepare for some truly bratty, angsty teenager shit in this post. XD We'll return you back to the usual carefree, chaotic Xifang shortly after
1 Year ago.
Xifang leaned back in the rickety chair on the other side of a clean, wooden desk. Most people might be intimidated, or awed, by how official the desk, the decorations, the pictures, everything in the small room looked. Xifang hardly noticed. This room looked nearly identical to countless other city official offices she’d found herself in over the years, but even barring how comfortable she’d become with being apprehended and questioned by city guards and officials, this one was just slightly different. The stranger with the stern face sitting across from her was no stranger at all, but her own mother. Vanya Ivers. Vanya sat tall, elegant, proper and with absolutely perfect posture and grace while her daughter leaned as far back in the office chair as she could without breaking it, her hair a tangled mess and dirt all over her clothes and in her fingernails. The only similarities the two women seemed to share were their color palette (red hair, ivory skin, green eyes), last name and the irritated expressions on their faces.
“Are you comfortable?”, Vanya asked, doing all she could to control her rage at her impetuous daughter.
“Not really”, Xifang said with a shrug. She sat up in the chair and looked at a framed drawn portrait that rested on her mother’s desk. Everyone had their hair just perfect, gorgeous smiles, impeccable posture. Notably missing? Herself. “Nice picture” she said casually, and dropped the picture back onto the desk.
“It is”, her mother agreed, “You could have been in it if you hadn’t been busy doing whatever disappointing thing you were doing that day.”
“Yeah?”, Xifang responded, “A thrilling prospect, but I couldn’t find the family stick to shove up my butt to make me sit like you guys do and I knew it’d be embarrassing for you to have one of us sitting like an actual living being and like a creepy doll”, she motioned to the picture with her head and said, “Celtis isn’t in that either. Did he misplace his heirloom ass-stick too?”
Vanya had to grip the arms of her chair in order to keep herself from leaping across the desk and gripping her youngest daughter’s throat instead.
“He had his reasons”, Vanya said simply.
“Yeah. Probably 3 of them”, Xifang agreed, “1) Girls. 2) Alcohol. 3) He hates you. Compelling reasons, really. Really hard to argue”
“What is WRONG with you!?”, Vanya snapped, finally, slamming her hands down on her desk.
“A few things”, Xifang said, holding back her reflex to jump at the sound of the hands landing on the desk, “I have sort of a headache. I stubbed my toe earlier when I kicked a particularly sturdy and particularly unpleasant Roegadyn guy.”, she paused, “Oh. And I’m in my mother’s office. I think that covers my current list of problems”
“You don’t know how HARD I have tried”, Vanya pleaded, “I’ve kept you from paying the consequences for countless fights you’ve started, theft, breaking into property, disregarding law after law. I’ve done everything for you!”
“No”, Xifang shot back, “No, you didn’t, Vanya. You did that shit for yourself. It’s embarrassing to have anyone say anything about your precious, carefully maintained, emotionless, reputation and family. How embarrassing would it be for you if all those very rich men you spend your time impressing realized that you can’t control your youngest daughter as well as you control and micromanage every other stupid, meaningless part of your stupid and meaningless life?”
Vanya didn’t have an argument. Xifang waited for it and instead there was silence- which was more unbearable for her teenage angst than if her mother had actually made a terrible excuse for it. But the truth of the complaint she’d levied against the Ul’Dahn politician filled the room, bouncing on the walls and holding hands with Vanya’s silence.
“I brought you here because I wanted to invite you back into the family”, Vanya said coolly.
“No”, Xifang argued again, “No. You brought me here because I beat the shit out of one your very favorite employees. You don’t care that I did that because he was menacing some poor woman. Nooo. That wouldn’t matter unless she was someone whose opinion mattered to you and your career. But my beating him for that behavior? An 18 year old girl beating down a giant, ancient, 50 year old, thick tree trunk of a guard that belonged to House Ivers? Oh no. Now THAT’S unacceptable”
“He’s 39”. Vanya corrected.
“Oooh, BIG difference”, Xifang spat back, “He’s as old as that hairstyle you’re wearing and this conversation we’re having”
“I DID bring you here”, Vanya said, “for that. And I’m not FINING you for it”
“Gosh, thanks, mom”, Xifang replied sarcastically.
“But I also brought you back because you’ve been gone for a year and we want you to come back. Come back into the family. Let’s just put this whole thing behind us”
This /whole thing/ was that Xifang, the youngest of 7 Ivers children, one day just up and ran away. For years she had struggled to live up the impeccable Ivers name, taking classes, learning finance, learning various histories, learning the Ivers sword and martial arts styles, goldsmithing business strategies and so on. She attended every big party, she wore the dresses she was told to wear, she did her hair the way the family did, she served drinks to people she didn’t care about and she made small talk about things that didn’t matter to her. Her intention had been to outshine her incredibly talented older siblings who had all exceled in various subjects and had countless achievements and were held in high esteem. While she did well at many things, working and studying hard every night, she never seemed to touch the success of one of her 6 older siblings. While she had learned to practice the social art of smiling as though everything were perfect, she felt hideously depressed for most of her childhood. The only thing that made her feel better were conversations with her older brother Celtis, who had begun to be disillusioned by the whole Ivers lifestyle himself.
At 16, after a particularly dull event and reading books she didn’t care about, an epiphany struck her. She didn’t HAVE to live life like that. She didn’t have to live by other people’s rules. She didn’t CARE about these things. She didn’t like it. What was the point of being just like the rest of them? Depression turned to anger as she realized how much of her childhood had been wasted trying to act according to other people’s rules. Then anger turned to elation as she up and ran.
Her family tried to find her for a long time, but everytime they came across her it was because she had broken some law or another. The family paid hush hush money to keep it under wraps that it was their daughter who had done it (they were constantly running for some political position or another and a rambunctious teenager was bad for that lifestyle).
Eventually, they stopped showing up… instead just sending money to get her out of trouble while continuing to pretend in public that they had no idea what had happened to their youngest daughter. They distanced themselves from the terror that they kept bailing out of trouble. She was their dirty secret. For the sake of the family, it made more sense to deny her existence after the 4th or 5th bout of violence she was arrested for.
Xifang looked across at the desk at her mother, one set of green eyes regarding the other. She thought of how she lived her life now: drifting wherever she felt, no money, no responsibilities, no home… and she compared that to the life she might have if she went back: money, luxury, a cold family and a life of burden. She stood up and said, “No thanks”, and made for the door.
“DAMMIT, XIFANG!”, her mother exclaimed, “You can’t just do whatever you want to all the time!”
Xifang laughed and answered, “Actually, mom? I can” and ran back out into the crowded city.
1 Year ago.
Xifang leaned back in the rickety chair on the other side of a clean, wooden desk. Most people might be intimidated, or awed, by how official the desk, the decorations, the pictures, everything in the small room looked. Xifang hardly noticed. This room looked nearly identical to countless other city official offices she’d found herself in over the years, but even barring how comfortable she’d become with being apprehended and questioned by city guards and officials, this one was just slightly different. The stranger with the stern face sitting across from her was no stranger at all, but her own mother. Vanya Ivers. Vanya sat tall, elegant, proper and with absolutely perfect posture and grace while her daughter leaned as far back in the office chair as she could without breaking it, her hair a tangled mess and dirt all over her clothes and in her fingernails. The only similarities the two women seemed to share were their color palette (red hair, ivory skin, green eyes), last name and the irritated expressions on their faces.
“Are you comfortable?”, Vanya asked, doing all she could to control her rage at her impetuous daughter.
“Not really”, Xifang said with a shrug. She sat up in the chair and looked at a framed drawn portrait that rested on her mother’s desk. Everyone had their hair just perfect, gorgeous smiles, impeccable posture. Notably missing? Herself. “Nice picture” she said casually, and dropped the picture back onto the desk.
“It is”, her mother agreed, “You could have been in it if you hadn’t been busy doing whatever disappointing thing you were doing that day.”
“Yeah?”, Xifang responded, “A thrilling prospect, but I couldn’t find the family stick to shove up my butt to make me sit like you guys do and I knew it’d be embarrassing for you to have one of us sitting like an actual living being and like a creepy doll”, she motioned to the picture with her head and said, “Celtis isn’t in that either. Did he misplace his heirloom ass-stick too?”
Vanya had to grip the arms of her chair in order to keep herself from leaping across the desk and gripping her youngest daughter’s throat instead.
“He had his reasons”, Vanya said simply.
“Yeah. Probably 3 of them”, Xifang agreed, “1) Girls. 2) Alcohol. 3) He hates you. Compelling reasons, really. Really hard to argue”
“What is WRONG with you!?”, Vanya snapped, finally, slamming her hands down on her desk.
“A few things”, Xifang said, holding back her reflex to jump at the sound of the hands landing on the desk, “I have sort of a headache. I stubbed my toe earlier when I kicked a particularly sturdy and particularly unpleasant Roegadyn guy.”, she paused, “Oh. And I’m in my mother’s office. I think that covers my current list of problems”
“You don’t know how HARD I have tried”, Vanya pleaded, “I’ve kept you from paying the consequences for countless fights you’ve started, theft, breaking into property, disregarding law after law. I’ve done everything for you!”
“No”, Xifang shot back, “No, you didn’t, Vanya. You did that shit for yourself. It’s embarrassing to have anyone say anything about your precious, carefully maintained, emotionless, reputation and family. How embarrassing would it be for you if all those very rich men you spend your time impressing realized that you can’t control your youngest daughter as well as you control and micromanage every other stupid, meaningless part of your stupid and meaningless life?”
Vanya didn’t have an argument. Xifang waited for it and instead there was silence- which was more unbearable for her teenage angst than if her mother had actually made a terrible excuse for it. But the truth of the complaint she’d levied against the Ul’Dahn politician filled the room, bouncing on the walls and holding hands with Vanya’s silence.
“I brought you here because I wanted to invite you back into the family”, Vanya said coolly.
“No”, Xifang argued again, “No. You brought me here because I beat the shit out of one your very favorite employees. You don’t care that I did that because he was menacing some poor woman. Nooo. That wouldn’t matter unless she was someone whose opinion mattered to you and your career. But my beating him for that behavior? An 18 year old girl beating down a giant, ancient, 50 year old, thick tree trunk of a guard that belonged to House Ivers? Oh no. Now THAT’S unacceptable”
“He’s 39”. Vanya corrected.
“Oooh, BIG difference”, Xifang spat back, “He’s as old as that hairstyle you’re wearing and this conversation we’re having”
“I DID bring you here”, Vanya said, “for that. And I’m not FINING you for it”
“Gosh, thanks, mom”, Xifang replied sarcastically.
“But I also brought you back because you’ve been gone for a year and we want you to come back. Come back into the family. Let’s just put this whole thing behind us”
This /whole thing/ was that Xifang, the youngest of 7 Ivers children, one day just up and ran away. For years she had struggled to live up the impeccable Ivers name, taking classes, learning finance, learning various histories, learning the Ivers sword and martial arts styles, goldsmithing business strategies and so on. She attended every big party, she wore the dresses she was told to wear, she did her hair the way the family did, she served drinks to people she didn’t care about and she made small talk about things that didn’t matter to her. Her intention had been to outshine her incredibly talented older siblings who had all exceled in various subjects and had countless achievements and were held in high esteem. While she did well at many things, working and studying hard every night, she never seemed to touch the success of one of her 6 older siblings. While she had learned to practice the social art of smiling as though everything were perfect, she felt hideously depressed for most of her childhood. The only thing that made her feel better were conversations with her older brother Celtis, who had begun to be disillusioned by the whole Ivers lifestyle himself.
At 16, after a particularly dull event and reading books she didn’t care about, an epiphany struck her. She didn’t HAVE to live life like that. She didn’t have to live by other people’s rules. She didn’t CARE about these things. She didn’t like it. What was the point of being just like the rest of them? Depression turned to anger as she realized how much of her childhood had been wasted trying to act according to other people’s rules. Then anger turned to elation as she up and ran.
Her family tried to find her for a long time, but everytime they came across her it was because she had broken some law or another. The family paid hush hush money to keep it under wraps that it was their daughter who had done it (they were constantly running for some political position or another and a rambunctious teenager was bad for that lifestyle).
Eventually, they stopped showing up… instead just sending money to get her out of trouble while continuing to pretend in public that they had no idea what had happened to their youngest daughter. They distanced themselves from the terror that they kept bailing out of trouble. She was their dirty secret. For the sake of the family, it made more sense to deny her existence after the 4th or 5th bout of violence she was arrested for.
Xifang looked across at the desk at her mother, one set of green eyes regarding the other. She thought of how she lived her life now: drifting wherever she felt, no money, no responsibilities, no home… and she compared that to the life she might have if she went back: money, luxury, a cold family and a life of burden. She stood up and said, “No thanks”, and made for the door.
“DAMMIT, XIFANG!”, her mother exclaimed, “You can’t just do whatever you want to all the time!”
Xifang laughed and answered, “Actually, mom? I can” and ran back out into the crowded city.