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@izuluzakwe
FULL NAME — Izulu “Izzy” Zakwe FACECLAIM — Gugu Mbatha-Raw GENDER & PRONOUNS — cis woman, she/her AGE — 41 BIRTHDAY — May 5, 1983 OCCUPATION — Second Grade Teacher at Blue Harbor Elementary NEIGHBORHOOD — Cardinal Hill LENGTH OF TIME IN BLUE HARBOR — 23 years, give or take
BIOGRAPHY | STATISTICS
OPEN STARTER !! where: re-chording when: whenever works!!
The chime of the doorbell notified Dahlia of the arrival of a new customer. It was a bit of a slow day – slow enough that she managed to convince her mouth-breather coworker to leave early and let her close up. He was a bratty teenager who always was trying to one-up Dahlia as if he was trying to prove that he knew more about music than she did and therefore was the better employee. Needless to say, she was grateful to spend the shift on her own. “Welcome to Re-Chording!” she called, straightening her back and then looking up from behind the counter. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she surveyed the customer. “Looking for anything specific?”
"Yes hello, I'm looking for a complete loser, about yay-high, probably hasn't shaved in a couple days, may or may not be wearing his glasses, possibly off somewhere writing love poetry about his new boyfriend and forgetting to text his best friend back?"
Izzy realized about halfway through that spiel that most of it could apply to Roman as well, but Dahlia knew who she was here for. The two women hadn't spoken much, but Antonio always spoke highly of Dahlia, so Izzy thought highly of her, too.
"If he isn't here, you can have his coffee," Izzy smiled, holding up the two cups in her hands.
STATUS: closed for @izuluzakwe LOCATION: toni's dining room
Antonio’s been staring at this one donor for longer than he should have been by now, probably. But the man — or at least the man as a child — has such an interesting face, in a way that’s not bad, but it’s not — good, either. His interests include rock climbing and crocheting, which feels like a bullshit combination to Antonio, and it’s what finally makes him throw the folder into the ‘no’ pile. “Some of these can’t be real, can they?” He turns to Izzy as he grabs for his now-third glass of wine, expression contorted into something like disbelief.
“You expect me to believe that—” he grabs randomly at one of the folders from the ‘maybe’ pile and quickly scours through the hobbies section. “This ‘celebrated piano virtuoso’ with an IQ of 150 who ‘regularly exercises’ and ‘composes symphonies in his head while skydiving’ also has a thriving Etsy shop for hand-carved soap sculptures and ‘casually dabbles in falconry and experimental beekeeping’ in his spare time?”
He pauses, staring at the page for a beat, before looking back up at Izzy. “What the fuck does that even mean, experimental beekeeping? Is he training the bees to do their taxes?” Antonio closes the folder and sets it back down carelessly, shaking his head in incredulous disdain. “I swear to God, Izzy, the next one’s gonna tell me they won a Nobel Prize for inventing an app that teaches dolphins how to knit.” He snatches up another folder as he takes a drink of his wine, muttering, “This isn’t like online dating at all, Izulu, it’s somehow worse. How do you even root out the frauds?”
Izzy smiled adoringly at her best friend as he ranted and rambled and threw papers around. She could only reassure him so many times that this was a very nice fertility clinic and they had a very secure vetting system, and he had nothing to worry about. But he would always worry. So she let him make up reasons to hate all the donors and subtly snuck some No's back into the Maybe pile.
"Sometimes people just have a lot of hobbies, Toni. But maybe it is a red flag; what are they trying to distract themselves from? They're not giving themselves any time to sit and think. I want my kid to be a thinker..." she said, flipping through some more pages and taking a sip of her own wine. She was going to miss wine, if this worked.
God, she hoped this worked.
"We don't root out the frauds, we leave that to the experts. We just choose the traits we like best, and hope the guy's dad doesn't have a horrible chin that skips a generation or something," she smirked. She was trying to make light of all this - if only to offset Toni's worries - but she was starting to get discouraged. All of these men were fine, some were even great, but this was such a monumental life choice that it felt impossible.
She tapped her fingernails on the stem of her wine glass - a sign that nobody but Toni would probably pick up as anxiety - as she read. "It's a lot more permanent than choosing an online date, that's for sure..."
—Open Starter (capping at 0/3) Location: Anywhere! Assume connections!
"Okay, let's just... talk this through with me," Bridget started, really just talking to herself but the performer in her could never resist an audience. "If I tell my boss my grandma died to get a week off work, realistically, how long after do I have to pretend to be sad?" Sure, she could just ask Elijah for the time off, and he'd probably give it to her, but a part of her thought it would be funny to watch the man flounder through his condolences.
"That definitely depends on your hypothetical relationship with said grandmother. You could say that you hated her but had to travel far away for the funeral, which would give you a week, but no pretend-sad-time. No matter what though, you do have to keep the lie of the dead grandma up forever, which is the real tough part," Izzy smirked. "You know I support any and all pranks on Elijah, but I'm always worried about the long-term consequences of a lie. What are you going to do with your week off?"
it was special. intimate. a moment of humanity, there in the gallery. elspeth made a note to remember that day, to cherish it — and to get izulu’s phone number after the fact, so that their interaction wouldn’t fall into obscurity the moment it ceased. “i think so, too,” they replied warmly as they took a loop of the exhibit, moved almost to tears by the beauty in it ; those exact reminders that no light came without darkness. “i’m glad i’ve found someone that understands,” her words were soft, not wanting to disturb any other fellow museum patrons. they moved slow and calm, as though they were floating on air. elspeth paused to read the names of each of the paintings, to absorb their meanings, to mouth the syllables of the artists. “i don’t know about being strong,” they answered over their shoulder, “it can be exhausting, but it’s worth it knowing i’m doing something good … that i’m helping people. it’s rewarding, yes, taking away that burden,” she turned on her heels and asked, “what do you do?”
The silences as they took in the exhibit were just as meaningful as the words they spoke. Izzy silently mourned the many futures she'd believed in and hoped for and lost. Some pieces reminded her of her best friend, and the love he'd lost, and her heart broke just as much over those as the ones she personally related to. Love was such an expansive thing - such a network of people desperately clinging to each other.
"That's so important. To help lift someone's burden when they're at their lowest. I know we only just met, but I already admire you so much," she smiled. It was nice to talk like this - about important things in a quiet place. A refreshing change from her day-to-day. "I teach second grade. It's just as crazy as it sounds."
"I mean, it worked out for Hansel and Gretel in most versions of the story, so I think if we stick together we'll make it out of here alive." Murph laughed, the sound little more than a breath through his nose. But it felt lighthearted in a way he realized he'd been missing. Just trading silly nonsense with a stranger felt like coming up for air. He'd never really been the social butterfly type, but in his isolation, he was learning that he really did need people.
Her question brought a wryly smile to his lips. "It's neither, actually. Uh, it sort of started as a joke in school?" Less of a joke and more of a way to tease him, but semantics. "I wasn't the luckiest or more graceful kid growing up, so I got stuck with Murphy as a nickname. 'Cause, you know, Murphy's Law. I hated it at first and I think they could pick up on that. So I decided to just take the power away from them and just adopt it for myself. And honestly, I never really felt like a Samuel, anyway. Lots of Sams in the world. Not that many Murphs." He tapped his temple like he'd just imparted sage wisdom, but there was an amused glint in his eye.
And then San Francisco. He didn't think he really had an answer for her because it had stopped being a place years ago. Instead, it had become her. It had become the mornings that had become tradition, the walks with Fig, braving downtown for a sundae from Ghirardelli Square. "Very vertical," he said with a laugh, pasting a smile over the scarlet tinged memories. "And crowded. The seals and the clam chowder make it worth it, though. What about you? Are you from here originally?"
She gave a sympathetic pout at the story of his nickname, but the smile didn't leave her eyes. There was resilience in that story; a reclaiming of his identity, a forging of his own path. She loved it. "You are the first Murph I've met, so I'd say it worked out for you," she said. "I had a student like that, once. I teach second grade. Everything seemed to go wrong for this kid. She was always tripping over everything, and walking into door frames, and forgetting her books. I suggested her parents have her tested for ADHD. Saw her a couple years later and she was a whole new girl," she smiled.
She noticed that Murph's smile wasn't quite reaching his eyes as he spoke about San Francisco. She bit her tongue to keep from asking about it - this was a potential new friend, and it would be terrible to scare him off before she even got her cupcakes. "The seals! Oh, that would be the best part for me, I love seals, they're so silly," she beamed. "I think the best part of any place is the silliest part. You have to find the quirks of a place to really love it. Just like people."
He asked if she was from Blue Harbor originally. "No, but it feels that way sometimes. I've been here since I was 18 - moved here for college and just never left. I grew up in San Antonio. I remember it being very fun and easy and free, but I was also a child with no responsibilities when I lived there, so that could be why."
— re-chording. ft. izulu zakwe ( @izuluzakwe )
There hadn’t been much opportunity to seek out Antonio’s oldest friend. Mainly because everytime there had been one, Roman had found a way out of it. Perhaps it was some sort of built-up hostility that for the past two decades Izzy thought the bassist hated her, or because she seemed to be the only one in town who knew of his and Toni’s situation. The shop owner never liked feeling on edge, or out of control, yet when it came to the school-teacher, it was all he could feel.
That was how he found himself staring at her with forced nonchalance as she entered his store, wondering how the hell normal people navigated such circumstances. He didn’t dislike her — regardless of what she thought — but he also didn’t dislike Taylor Swift, and he never had a desire to listen to her music day in and day out, and applied the same logic to basic communication with his…person’s best friend. “Antonio isn’t here.” He said upon greeting, assuming that was who she was here to see. “I presume he is at home, pretending to work and instead lounging about.” Though of course Roman knew exactly where Toni was, the two texting constantly when not together like love-struck teenagers, but he couldn’t exactly have Izzy think they were that couple.
"Well hello to you too, Daniels. I'm doing great, how are you?" Izzy smirked. She knew better than to expect small talk and pleasantries from Roman, but that didn't mean she couldn't tease him about it. Especially if Toni wasn't here to scold her about it. "He does love to lounge, doesn't he? I think my couch has a permanent indent of where his butt always is."
That probably wasn't the best thing to say. No matter how nonsensical it was, Izzy and Toni's partners always tended to be jealous of how close they were. She couldn't really blame them, they were basically married at this point, but not in a romantic way. They were just like... the subject and predicate of a sentence. They simply wouldn't make much sense without each other.
"Anyway, I'm here to see you," Izzy smiled. "I thought we should get to know each other a little. What do you think?"
Antonio keeps his opinions on the term boyfriend to himself, lest he sound as pathetic as he usually does to his best friend. Truthfully, there’s probably little else he wants as badly right now as to be Roman’s boyfriend, despite how juvenile the term might seem. It’d be like — proof, or something, that this is real, that it’s happening, that they’ve crossed the threshold successfully from friends to lovers.
Besides, it’s clear there are more pressing matters at hand right now than whether or not Roman is his boyfriend or not, all things considered. Izzy tells him about her visits to a fertility doctor — meds, hormones, the whole nine yards, and he can’t help but feel the same immeasurable fondness in his chest for her that he usually does, except maybe tenfold, at the idea of her finally, finally getting what she’s always wanted: a child. “Izzy,” he grins widely, brings her in for an embrace. “Fuck, I’m so, so happy for you,” he presses a soft kiss to her hair before pulling back, feeling like his grin might just break his face.
Antonio can’t help the laugh that escapes, full and unrestrained. “Jesus, yeah, whatever you need,” he says of her asking for his help. “You think you’re going through this on your own? Not a chance,” he says, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m in. No question, alright?” After a pause, however, he tilts his head, curiosity lighting his expression. “How exactly does one go about shopping for a sperm donor? Is it like online dating? Or am I about to see you flipping through a catalogue of profiles at my kitchen table?” Another pause. “Do we — send out applications or something? Racists assholes need not apply, and all that,” he’s grinning, a spark of playful mischief in his eyes, but then he softens, leaning closer.
“Seriously, though, I mean it,” he adds, his tone gentler. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I’m here for every step.” He gives her hand a warm squeeze. “I want this for you as much as you do, Iz.”
She hugged him back with probably too much force, but she knew he could and would handle whatever she threw at him. It's what they'd always done for each other. Everything a person could go through, every kind of horrible heartbreak, every kind of elated joy, they'd gone through it together. Ever since she could remember, Toni had been Izzy's safe space. Her person. Her heart.
Her eyes welled up when he said she didn't have to go through this alone. Despite always knowing he would be there for her, and never doubting that for a second, the idea of being a single mother was terrifying all the same. She would have to make a human, and birth a human, and make sure they turned out to be a decent person, and she couldn't share the credit or blame for any of it with anyone. It was all on her now.
"It is honestly a little bit like online dating," she laughed. "There are profiles, and information, and we choose based on that. It's... so scary, and so exciting. The whole thing is terrifying, and I'm so fucking scared I want to cry all the time, but I'm... I don't know. I just have a feeling that it's going to work this time. I don't know how to explain it. Is that ridiculous?"
"I love you so much," she said, still beaming, as a tear fell down her cheek.
Narrowing her eyes, she points her fork accusingly at Izzy as she declares her food intake to be somehow less than her caffeine intake. Jesus, even her responsible friends pull shit like this. She feels like she’s mothering a hoard of baby chicks, sometimes. “Aren’t you supposed to have, like, vegetables once in a while?” She pauses at the mention of baked goods, however, because, well, fuck, they’re her weakness, aren’t they? “I’ll take the cannolis, though,” she says, eyes still narrowed suspiciously. “I’ll trade you for something like, a salad. And some water.”
Clem squawks indignantly at Izzy’s implication. “You’re going to let a bunch of snot-nosed brats mob me?” She glances back toward the door, almost as if making sure said snot-nosed brats haven’t magically materialized. She meets Izzy’s gaze again, her glare playful but cautious. “You know I’ll just say something out of pocket if you keep me around them for too long.”
"Listen mom, I'll eat a vegetable if I get dessert afterwards, okay? Life is about balance, and I like to balance the chaos of my job with a metric shit ton of sugar, and I feel like that's fair," Izzy smirked. "But I will eat a salad, I promise. Goodness, have you been talking to my doctor? You sound just like her."
Izulu smiled innocently and nodded at her friend's indignant squawk. "They think you're a Disney Princess. It's your big ol' bug eyes, I think. Who am I to tell them you're not?"
Just then, the bell rang to let the kids back in, and Izzy froze, still smirking - any sudden movement now would send Clementine flying out the door. "Get all your out of pocket words out now," she said, leaning in to whisper ominously "they're coming."
it was something that was a recent revelation of elspeth's, that now she was an adult she was able to show up for herself. it was her decision whether or not the money for a special exhibit was justifiable. instead of shaking their head like a strict parent, they were able to indulge. not often, but enough. “izulu. that's a beautiful name. does it have any meaning? what's its origin?” there was a serene, still quality to the next room, so much so that elspeth's voice automatically dropped and softened. “fēn elspeth. but just elspeth works, too.” she wondered what possessed her to use her true name, to introduce themself in their purest form. it was easier to shrug and share the name that had become their new normal since settling down in illinois. “the price of love is loss,” they responded with a solemn nod, “it's what we give to feel these beautiful feelings. i work as a mortician. i'm quite familiar with it.”
Izzy smiled at the compliment to her name. She didn't often go by the full thing, but she was proud of it. Hearing other people say it always warmed her and made her want to call her parents, to hear them say it too. "Thank you. It's from Zulu, my father's language. It means heaven." She smiled and repeated "Fēn Elspeth." It felt almost like they were exchanging little gifts, giving each other their magical True Name that most people didn't bother to use. "It's good to meet you."
The price of love is loss. Izulu nodded, trying not to let the trueness of that statement wash her away into memories. "It's worth paying, if you ask me. The worst thing in the world in exchange for the best thing. If the alternative is a life of feeling fine and nothing more or less than that, I'll take the pain. You must be very strong to work in that field; I imagine that takes a lot out of a person. You find it rewarding?"
— powerpulse gym & yoga studio. open. ( @bluestarters )
Leaving his manager’s office, CJ thought he was doing a pretty good job of looking miserable, like the verbal lashing he had just received regarding some missing equipment had affected him. Truly, he didn’t get what the big deal was — it was just a few dumbbells, and they looked sick in the little elf hats he made for them, sitting on his and Seb’s fireplace — but if he looked too unbothered, he’d probably get fired. Being on his second strike was bad enough.
Still, he denied, denied, denied having anything to do with the uncounted weights, claiming he saw ‘some dude’ suspiciously hanging around the area a few weeks ago. Technically not a lie, as CJ was some dude, and he caught a glance of himself in the floor length mirrors as he bagged them up. Still, it was his ‘mission’ to catch the culprit, and in an effort to look like he was doing his job, tapped the first person he came across on the gym floor, gesturing to the empty studio room that held classes. "Don't be scared. I just need you to come with me for a minute."
Izzy was staring at herself in the mirror. It probably seemed vain to anyone looking, but vanity was not exactly hard to come by in a place like this. Let them think what they wanted. She was looking at her body, not to admire it, or to criticize it, but to appreciate it. To hope. With any luck, this body might be able to create a whole new human soon. It was terrifying... but hope usually was.
She was tapped on the shoulder by a trainer she only recognized in passing. He had a look of mischievous adventure in his eyes that snapped her easily out of her obsessive staring. She paused for only the shortest of beats to think about it, but then swung her pilates bag back over her shoulder, and nodded.
"Yes sir," she smirked, and whispered, "Where are we going?"
Skipidy Skip Skip... With what he could only describe as a great first day for everyone, Leandro walked through the hall of the elementary school building with each of his children in hand. While they had originally planned on going out for ice cream, the children had suggested they bring Izulu the ice cream instead, and Lea was good at very many things but telling his children no was a hard one for him. So he had ensured to stop by the store and grabbed a couple pints of ice creams, sprinkles, syrups, and a container of cherries. Lupita had ensured to write down everything she wanted him to grab from the supermarket so that they missed absolutely nothing, as she so firmly put it. Walking into her classroom now - cooler on his arm, children running ahead - Leandro called out a greeting, “I bet you wish you’d have shaken me off earlier.” he teases, seeing the way both his children ran into the room and dashed for her. Diego had yet to be in her class but even he seemed excited to see her. “Our plans definitely changed, but you’d got three extra set of hands to help finish up whatever needs attention, and then a cooler filled with ice cream to celebrate a great first day.” Leandro pulled up the cooler, smiling at her sheepishly. “I hope it is alright. They got a little excited.”
The first day of school was always chaotic, but Izulu had enjoyed getting to know her new students so much that she hadn't had any time to be stressed. She loved learning about what each kid liked and disliked about school, and what they were most curious about in the world, and using that to make sure everyone could learn in a way that was right for them. It was difficult to balance so many kids at once and give them all the attention they wanted and needed, though, and she could feel a familiar tension beginning in her shoulders as she worked.
But just then, two loud little children bounced into her classroom, calling her name and talking at once and running around each other, and the laugh she let out dropped some of that stress immediately. Their father walked in after them... and just looking at Leandro and his sheepish smile made her feel lighter, and breathe easier.
Izzy was immediately down at the kids' level, asking questions about their days, and doing her best to answer their overlapping questions about her own. Lupita was still an organized little planner, which was probably what made Diego feel safe enough to be as chaotic and free as he was. They reminded her so much of herself and Antonio when they were kids.
"You are an angel, and I will never shake you off," she said to Leandro as soon as the kids gave her a moment to stand. "You didn't have to do all this for me... but I'm really glad you did."
She smiled at him for what was probably a moment too long, and then turned so he wouldn't see her blushing about it.
"Okay, if you're all insisting on helping out, we can make a game of it. Boys vs. Girls, what do you say? Lupita and I will put the books away, and Diego, you and your dad can put the toys on the shelves over there. Whichever team finishes first gets ice cream first. Ready? Set? Go!"
JACK: hello izzy. yes it's late fall. should start soon. wait until the after the first couple of frosts to mulch the ground though, but make sure you do it before it freezes solid. JACK: i can help. you should really get a stronger jacket though. JACK: do you have any burlap to collar them? if not i can bring some by.
IZZY: might need a suit of armor to tackle them tbh. i raised some tough thorny girls out there IZZY: i think i've still got some in the shed, but I probably trust whatever you'd bring more than whatever I bought. IZZY: thank you for your help. i'll have some tea and cookies for you when you come by. or do you prefer coffee?
from Suddenly, Summer by Alex Dimitrov
Antonio’s lips twitch at Izzy’s mention of her soap. “Possible,” he admits. “But he made it clear Liam was his friend,” he rolls his eyes, allowing Izzy to work her magic. He’s not worried about Izzy being anything but gentle. Doesn’t think she has it in her to be. So he leans into her touch, searches her expression as she continues to talk to him, a fond smile on his lips. Wonders if there’s any other way to react to Izzy, actually. Fondly, that is. Can’t imagine anyone would look at her with contempt, or despair.
Alec. D&D friend. Tall kid. He’s seen him hanging around Clem, at O'Shea's, and vice versa, at The Pour House. Hasn’t had the pleasure, though. Izzy’s better friends with both of them than he is, after all. “He looks like he could take someone out, no problem,” he teases. He resists the urge to touch the fresh layer of makeup as she applies it, feeling the coolness of the primer as Izzy finishes her gentle work on his cheek. Then her words catch up to him — cute boyfriend — and his lips part in a quiet huff, shaking his head lightly. “Not my boyfriend,” he mutters, his voice soft but certain. They haven’t talked about it, haven’t labeled whatever they’re doing. Not that he’d — hate it. He’s just not sure Roman wouldn’t.
But he doesn’t explain, doesn’t elaborate, because Izzy knows him well enough to understand without him having to spell it out. “Besides—” Antonio’s about to deflect with another joke, but then he stops short, the last part of her sentence finally sinking in.
My kid.
He blinks, confusion settling into his expression as he pulls back just slightly to look at her. “Wait — what?” His voice is full of bewilderment. “Your kid? What—” He falters, eyes wide. “Are you — Izulu.” He leans in closer to her, tone serious. “Are you—” he gestures toward her stomach, feeling slightly off-kilter. He would know, right? He would know. Would he know?
He was looking at her the way he'd always looked at her; it reminded her of the way the parents of her students looked at their childrens' artwork - a mix of pride and love that would seem unreasonable to any onlookers, but made perfect sense to them. Izzy never felt worthy of that look, but she did her best to live up to it. And she was sure she looked at him the same way.
"Just friends, huh? I've heard that one before," she smirked. "Maybe we're too old for terms like boyfriend to apply, anyway. As long as you both know your boundaries and expectations for things like monogamy and whatnot. You don't want any miscommunications on that front just because you chickened out on having the conversation."
He pulled back and she almost got concealer on his nose. She laughed softly at his expression. She should have known better than to phrase it like that, and to spring it on him like this, but it was too adorable when his eyes popped out of his head.
She shook her head, still smiling. The hope of it all was negating the terror of it lately. She wondered how long that would last. "No, no... not, um... not yet. But I have been seeing a fertility doctor. I'm on all the meds and hormones and vitamins and whatnot. I didn't want to say anything until the chances looked better, but, um... everything looks good," she said, unable to stop beaming despite the fear that still choked her heart. "They're saying I can start looking for a donor anytime. And you don't have to if you don't want to, but I wondered if maybe... you might help me choose."
Via Cats with Pawerful Aura (catswithaura) on X/Twitter
