EKJ @sourwines - Tumblr Blog

North-South : 3

Elyas arrived at the said studio where Elisha claimed it's the place her masterpieces born. The code to the door lock was the same as her apartment unit's door and probably many other of her locked belongings. He entered the spacious 4 walls filled with colours and canvases, mostly disorganized but yet neat to the eye. Few works were left unfinished, the rest could be called her unreleased masterpieces.

One painting in a big canvas caught Elyas eyes almost immediately. He then remembered how Elisha always says about Claude Monet being her biggest inspiration. Now he's standing right in front of Elisha's take on impressionism, that is to him, are impressive. Thousands of brush strokes are majorly visible on purpose, creating a subtly distorted sights of trees and seemingly supposed to be a river in between it. The trees are bearing fruits and blossoms, seemingly oranges and magnolias looking at the colours and silhouettes of it. The tree on the left side blooms orange blossoms and ripe orange fruits, 5 fruits were fallen to the ground into group of 2 and 3. The right tree on the other hand, are full of vibrant magnolias which few petals were fallen to the ground by the gushing wind, which he counted were exactly 22 tiny petals on the ground divided into 4 groups.

Elisha did love to slip in meaningful small details in every of her works. Not any eye can see, only those who know their story.

"Excusez moi, monsieur, why are you here? Who are you exactly?" A voice of a man startled Elyas from his art appreciation session.

"Oh, uh... pardon for breaking in, but I'm Elyas Jordan. My sister gave me the code to this studio."

"You're her older brother, I suppose?" The landlord guessed after eyeing up and down to Elyas.

"Younger, actually. But we're twins to be precise."

The landlord frowned to Elyas' answer, which Elyas regretted for how confusing his words actually were. Nonetheless, there's nothing he can do to take back his words and fix the tense awkwardness.

"Anyway, Elisha's rent due is today, so I thought you as her brother could cover this. I haven't seen her for a while now, I'm worried that she may not be able to pay in time," the landlord stated, more worried on the money than the fact that Elisha's presence are absent.

"I suppose I could cover for her, but uh..." Elyas grabbed his wallet in his bag, only to find his homecountry cash in it, "I only have poundsterlings, currently. Please send me your bank account number so I could transfer euros to you."

Elyas hurrily grabbed a piece of his business card with his phone number on it, then handed it over to the landlord. The slender figured owner of the studio left after taking Elyas' business card without any further words.

The Jordan young man were a little stunned by the landlord's demeanor. Elisha has complained about her studio's landlord being a bit of a jerk in the past, but it was out of Elyas expectation to see how rude the landlord actually is.

Nonetheless, he continued to venture around, looking for anything that could tell about Elisha's current whereabout. There were nothing but art supplies and the art itself in the studio, which led Elyas to a dead end.

Or if so.

He took a sight at the memos pinned to a section of the wall, scanning trough every handwriting hoping that he could find a lead. His eyes caught a piece of pink sticky paper that seemed recent, written; Submit project 113 to G, 7th May.

He glanced at the current date on his phone. Whatever project 113 is, it was supposed to due today.

"What is she up to?" He monologued.

The answer to his questions must have lied in Elisha's laptop that he carried along with, specifically in the message app. He took out the laptop from his bag then settled it down on the nearest desk and turned the power on. While waiting for it to turn on, he quickly grabbed his phone from his coat pocket, called a contact number of a person that he thought would help him out from the current situation.

"Hello?"

"Martin, I really need a hand right now."

A sigh could be heard from the other side of the call. "Let me guess, hacking a phone? It's better not be another creep behaviour."

#scripts #thejordanssaga

It was a warm morning when the Jordan twins sat on an outdoor table of a Cafe, with a croissant and cafe au lait on Elisha's side, tarte aux framboises and lady grey tea on Elyas side. The brother was amused with the sight of people passing by the pavement, while the sister seemed occupied with her tablet in her hands.

"I assumed you're drawing something. What is it?" Elyas couldn't help but to be curious.

"Just a self portrait, you see." She showed her tablet screen to him proudly; an animated version of her revealed.

Elyas could see the cropped part of another body next to her, possibly a man. So he asked once more, "That is not just a self portrait, zoom that out."

Elisha zoomed out the work she's been doing on her tablet screen to reveal the full frame. He was correct, another figure, specifically a man taller than her, can be seen beside the painting of her.

"Damn, who's that marvelous man?"

"That's you, stupid. Can't you see how I made their faces similar!?"

"Oh, wow. Couldn't recognize how handsome I actually am, haha."

Elisha's face turned annoyed, "I don't want to be drawn beside an ugly man, so you should thank me for drawing you better looking here.

"Nah. Just admit that you have such a handsome twin brother." Elyas smiled proud while taking another inhale out of his smoldering cigarette

He put out his cigarette in the ashtray, then took a sip out of his teacup. Elisha put down her tablet for a while to take a bite out of her croissant. They went silent for some minutes enjoying their first meal of the day under a good Saturday morning sun. The fresh breezing air compliments just right to the weather that day

"Does every Englishman starts their day with tarte and tea?" Elisha asked.

Before answering her question, he couldn't help but to wipe crumbs off her cheek just by the corner of her lips with his thumb. Then he sat comfortably back down. "The tea, yes. The tart, not really. I just wanted a different sensation this morning."

"You could've just told me to wipe it off." She switched the conversation unintentionally.

"What, you're ashamed of having a caring brother?"

"Your fingers smells like tobaccos."

"Right... sorry." Elyas immediately wiped his fingers on his shirt.

He continued to devour his servings, so was Elisha. They finished with a happily full stomach and pleasant feeling to seize the rest of their day. But even after so, they decided to sit for a little bit longer to rest their body a while. Elisha grabbed back her tablet to continue her work earlier; just another minor finishing touches.

Elyas frowned at her hands. Not out of confusion, he thought of something to do with her digital painting.

"Elisha."

The sister only looked up at him, with an eyebrow lifted.

"I'm suddenly thinking of something... I don't know what, but definitely something to do with that drawing of yours. Could you send me the copy when you're done?"

Elisha chuckled, looking down then up to her brother right in the eye again, "you don't even have to ask."

#scripts #thejordanssaga

North-South : 2

The small clock on Elyas' right wrist shows the time 10 and a little over 5 minutes when his plane landed; a bit earlier than the ETA for God knows what reason. A single minute wouldn't he waste, less than 20 minutes and he was already standing in front of Elisha's apartment building. He rushed inside to the nearest stairs onto the third floor where Elisha's unit was, bringing along his luggage and bag casually. Upon reaching the third floor, he sighted into every door numbers in the hallway. He finally found Elisha's unit at the end of the hallway to the left. Surprised but not surprised, he thought, Elisha would've pick a less crowded unit with possibly extra windows. That's very of her.

Elyas grabbed his phone out of his coat pocket without turning it on just to see his reflection on the pitch black screen. After assuring that he looks quite decent, he puts his phone back to his pocket, then knocked on the apartment unit door 5 times with his knuckles.

Dead silent.

"Oh, idiot! there's a doorbell," he mumbled, insulted himself.

He pressed on the small doorbell button. The echoing sound of it can be heard from the outside and still, dead silent after that.

He waited for roughly two minutes before deciding to press the doorbell one more time to make sure. But right before he could ring another bell, a woman, probably middle aged, came up to him.

"Pardon, you're looking for Madamoiselle Jordan?"

"Ah, yes! I uh... I'm her... brother," he gulped upon answering, a little intimidated by the look of the old lady.

"Oh, dear! You must be Monsieur Jordan. I'm sorry to tell you, but Elisha hasn't been seen around for three days now."

She's missing? for three days?

"I see... I will try to reach her out from mobile phone, then. Thank you."

The old lady left with no more words.

Elyas could've try to contact Elisha again through his phone, but looking at the empty notifications made him thought that it was a dumb idea. Her disappearance was the reason why he's here in Paris, standing in front of her apartment unit door.

He noticed the door was secured by a pincode lock, immediately recalled Elisha's words the last time he knew about her whereabouts; "You know the passcode to everything I lock."

He knew it, he knew all the numbers but couldn't figure out which one she meants. Their birthday would've been too obvious, isn't it?

No... don't tell me-

Click!

The door lock opened, by only one attempt of him punching in 6 digits of numbers they share in common; Not their birthdate.

The day our family was torn into pieces.

He solved one puzzle of Elisha's, which only left him with more questions and puzzles to solve. Like a path to a neverending escape room, starting with an open door to the place she's been living in.

As soon as he stepped inside, the eye-pleasing nuance of Elisha's apartment as it were welcoming him. Everything looks clean and neat, even misplaced things looks tidy. That was just one of a thousand traits they share in common; hating clutters.

He took his shoes off and tries to find a slipper that hopefully would fit him in Elisha's shoerack. A pair of black slipper seems to be far bigger than the rest of pairs on the rack, and indeed it fits Elyas' big feet perfectly.

Still would be surprised if she has a boyfriend.

After making sure the door was secured, he slowly walked inside of the apartment unit while looking around. It wasn't a massive luxury place, far smaller than his country house in Birmingham, but it was surely more than enough space for a woman to live in. A spacious bedroom could be seen right after entrance; which absolutely would be Elisha's bedroom. Next to it was another door that seems to be another bedroom, a smaller one.

He opened the closed door next to Elisha's bedroom and he was correct, it was another bedroom that was left empty. He suited himself inside, putting his belongings near the closet for him to tidy up later, then dropped himself on to the white bed.

He laid on his back with his eyes gazed at the greyish ceilings, confused, thinking about his next move to the upcoming puzzles he has to solve. How the hell could I find Elisha, where do I start?

Her personal space, of course, right on the other side of the wall.

The twin brother stood back up straight away heading to his twin sister's room. The very first thing that caught his attention was the closed light silver laptop on top of a white work desk. He sat down on what was supposedly Elisha's work chair, folding up the laptop screen and turned it on tout de suite. A login screen popped out afterwards, required a passcode to unlock the device. He instantly typed in the same numbers as earlier that he used to open the unit door.

And voila, another jackpot for Elyas.

After the device loaded for a while, the first thing that the cursor hovered to is the text message app. No luck, because the app requires a two-factor authentication to log in, in which, Elyas absolutely didn't have Elisha's phone on his hand.

A little notification bar popped out of the left corner of the screen; a calendar reminder. Elyas' eyes immediately read the following reminder that Elisha marked for that day.

Studio rent due.

A studio, Elisha's studio to be precise, possibly another personal space of hers that Elyas' could dig in to, or even find her immediately as he remembered that Elisha mentioned a few times that she likes to even sleep in her studio when she's on fire for her projects.

Elyas picked up his phone to open his chatroom with Elisha, scrolled through every photos in it because if he's right, Elisha once sent him a photo of her studio, which might be helpful right now to find it's exact location. He found one nice photo of it. He searched the photo with Google Lens in high hopes he could find the location.

Gotcha!

Without further thoughts, he sets his next destination of his journey to wander for more clues and riddles, or to eventually find her.

#scripts #thejordanssaga

North-South

"Alright, alright. You got me there, El."

The twin sister on the other side of the video call chuckled hearing her brother's response to her humour. Years and years after separating didn't budge the tiniest of their chemistry.

Elisha was walking down the alley while calling Elyas; a rather uncommon activity to do in Paris. But Elyas urged his sister to pick up the call and help him on decision making as he always do. One is indecisive, sometimes could be too clumsy to make his own choice, and another one is more considerate; a fair balanced scale.

She almost arrived in her destination to the nearest bus stop. "I'm going to hang up, now."

"Aight. Take care, then."

"Oh but wait, El!"

"What?"

Elisha went silent for a few steps of her walk. Elyas thought that it was his jamming connection, but he could still see her face crystal clear on the phone screen. He frowned, still waiting for her next words that prevented him from ending the call.

"Nothing. I just want to say that the passcode to everything I lock... you know it." Right after, she immediately hung up on the call. Elyas phone screen turned back to the homepage and his quiet room that was for once filled with the twin pair's voice went back to dead silent. He was left with questions inside of his head; like, what was that for?

Nonetheless, Elyas decided to not think much about it, as he knew very well that Elisha likes to play games on him. He won't fall into her trap again this time. If it is, another trap of trick Elisha is trying to pull off.

#scripts #thejordanssaga

The London Memoir : Darwin Brasserie

It's been roughly an hour Elyas sat on the fine dining table by his own, sipping on his second glass of red wine. Though he loves wine a lot, it will absolutely make him sick from too much of it, especially in this kind of uncertain situation.

He was waiting for someone, a certain old friend he would say, that he gained courage to meet again after some while. It wasn't really easy for him considering what happened in his past, but he wanted to resolve things in order to move forward in his life.

"Oh, dearie! My apologies for being tardy. Something came up and the traffic also wasn't doing me favour this time."

The awaited person finally showed up in front of him, letting out a sigh of relieve. "It's alright. Please, have a seat."

Elyas would usually pull the chair out for the woman. Not this time. The average heighted dressed in a semi formal fit pulled the chair herself then sat down, adjusting to her comfortable position.

"Shall we order now?" He asked while grabbing the menu book.

"I'll have the same as you," she proclaimed.

"But I would get prawns for appetizers."

The woman hesitated a bit, before replying. "A little itch won't bother me."

Elyas closed the menu book, putting it down on the table. "Alright, then. Suit yourself."

The man's eyes wandered through the busy building looking for any available waiters. But it seemed like the whole brasserie was at it's rush hour. The woman noticed Elyas frustrated face, "We can order a bit later, let's just cheer for the wine first."

She took the white wine that was already provided on their table then opened the cork seamlessly. She poured the wine onto her glass and another empty one for the man, knew that he wouldn't prefer it much but still would drink it anyway because it's wine.

Both raised their glasses and clinked the sides gently. Elyas took the tiniest sip before putting it back on the table. "I would get drunk before the course, I think."

She put down her glass also, crossed her arms on top of the table. "What is it that you wanted to talk about, El?"

"I simply wanted to tell you that I'm going on with my life."

He just said it, with no hesitant. His face couldn't be more straighter as it is, as if he truly meant what he said.

She only smiled gleamingly, as if it was just another script Elyas had been practicing on her like he used to do before things ended for both of them.

"Good for you," she replied.

"Serena Nakamura, you were one of the most wonderful woman, and still would I cherish you in my life. You gave me so much that took me a step forward to be a better man. But sadly I had to end us, that time."

"Look, if you're trying to apologise, I already forgive you a long time ago. I understand you, and I have no regrets. Nonetheless, thank you for your appreciation towards me."

The air between them went silent for a good minute. Elyas nodded down his head for a glimpse of seconds hiding his smile that he couldn't held back, then looked back to the Nakamura daughter and cleared his throat.

"I'm getting hungry, we're ordering now." He signed his hand out to call a waiter on duty.

"Wait! On second thought, I don't want the prawns."

#scripts

"Or if we're talking about the colour, you're every shade of oranges."

The London Memoir : Old Vic

'Twas only hours before midnight when the fine heighted man exited one of the most popular theatre in London. The entrance lobby was not too crowded, but still full of people. Little things like this made Elyas conclude that London surely never sleep.

He planned to watch a show with a friend, yet whoever that person was didn't show up. He grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and decided to make a call one more time to confront, hoped that this time his friend would pick the call up.

But still, no answer.

Another call rang in his phone almost immediately after the last one ended with no response. Elyas picked the call up while walking slowly on the pavement.

"I've called you many times, you know," The heavy voice on the other side of the call greeted.

"I noticed."

"Where are you, Jordan?"

"Just finished watching a show, quite an interesting one if you asked-"

"No. Don't tell me you're at The Old Vic."

Elyas stopped his steps, exhaled a long breath. "I won't say, then."

The call went silent for a good 30 seconds. Elyas moved aside and stood leaning on to an old building wall to avoid slowing down the busy pavement's pace, still with his smartphone sticked to his right ear.

"The rules, Elyas. You can't visit the theatre for 3 days before if you will be performing. Our show is in 2 days!"

"I can't help myself. I need to see the venue and audience's point of view before the grand play. Need to see the other shows we will be competing with, also."

"Look, I know that you can't really help your perfectionist arse to show the best yet. But these 'silly rules' exist for a reason. Besides, you're THE Elyas Jordan."

Elyas stood still for a moment. His phone screen light up, so he immediately checked the incoming notification. Another call was sent to him, the number he's been calling to since the afternoon. He sticked his phone back to his ear and responded back to the ongoing call.

"I had an appointment with a friend, anyway. The show made me curious. Now please excuse me, I have to go."

He tapped the end call button, then navigated to the message feature to take a look at the new incoming text message.

#scripts

The London Memoir : River Thames

"I was doing just fine before I met you."

Elisha stood still for a moment, before replying, "What do you mean 'before I met you'? We were from the same womb, if you forgot."

Elyas chuckled at her piece of sarcasm. "Sorry, I was just rehearsing a line."

"Alright, Mr. Worldwide Actor."

"Theatre actor. It's a different thing, Elisha." He sipped on his cold coffee that was hot before.

Elisha scoffed at his reaction. She crossed both her arms under her chest out of annoyance. "Since when you became this obnoxious?" she asked, lifted an eyebrow up and pierced a sharp glare at him.

Elyas shrugged, "It's what you've been tolerating for roughly 27 years."

He sipped his coffee one more time while turning his body towards the river Thames, leaned onto the riverside border wall. It took them a few seconds of silence before Elisha followed Elyas' to lean on the border wall, then another silence. Both of them were just there, existing, without any interactions for a full minute until Elyas decided to broke the silence.

"I listened to a song from a small bistro yesterday, and um... it reminded me of a certain someone. I thought of a prompt. So, beside that dialogue I said, the story tells about a couple that was doing fine before they met each other, but things just went insane after since."

"They knew it wasn't doing any better for them, they knew they'd be fine without each other, but they were just... stuck. Isn't that the kind of situation you think of?" she tried to guess.

Elyas smiled for a good second, then it quickly faded to his usual emotionless face that was never recognisable off stage. "You read my mind."

The whole conversation went without neither of them looked at each other. They were pinned on boats and beautiful reflection of the blue-orange sky on the river. Spring breeze blew softly through Elyas' cheeks as if it was stroking them and through strands of Elisha's hair made them motioned beautifully.

The wind stopped, as Elyas was voicing another sentences, "I am good with script dialogues, but never conversations. I can follow stage directions at best, but never interactions. I- I don't even know how to have a life outside the stage."

He took a deep breath in, then let it all out slowly. "I want to feel all that love and emotions, but now I'm only people watching."

#scripts #thejordanssaga

The London Memoir : West Ham United

Another wishlist has been strikethrough in Elyas' London venture; watching a football in real time at the stadium. For many years he has been residing in England and growing interest on the nation's popular sport, he only watched them through the screens and never once experiencing the live match. It would be just like another theatre play, he reassured himself, just with a more reactive audiences.

He took the upper row seat where it was less packed and noisy, so he could focus a bit more. As he was concentrating on the intense match, a snack vendor man walked towards his row. He stopped the vendor in hope to get a simple drink to feed his thirst.

"Anything to drink?" Elyas asked.

"I only have cola left here, mate."

He grabbed a few coins in his pocket, then handed them to the vendor man in trade for a cup of cola. "I'll take one. Thank you."

"... he confidently and- GOAL!!! One point goes to the West Ham United!"

The whole tribune crowd was filled with joy. People were in standing ovation for the incredible play yet Elyas sat still peacefully sipping on his freshly bought drink. He truly felt the euphoria, though, he simply wasn't used to openly show them like many other football fans.

"This is fun. I should visit the stadium more often."

#scripts

The London Memoir : Picadilly Circus

Going back and forth from Birmingham to London wasn't very efficient in the first place. Train tickets were not that cheap, yet Elyas still wouldn't mind as he denied London with all his soul. London wasn't too bad, but the metro city life wasn't simply for him.

There's something more of London to Elyas besides it's the place where the theatre production he works at located. There's more to the busy streets that never sleeps, crowded pubs with the mixing scents of herbs, even to the coffees that made fast. Every physical in this capital city weren't that pleasant, but something made it feels warm. Could be, London holds many memories of him.

The red bus he rode took him to one of the most crowded site of London. He exited the bus, then stood still for a good minute to take a deep breath in. Lucky he didn't go on the weekend otherwise it would be full of people to the point that you couldn't see where you're stepping at. He faced towards the giant billboard on the street corner, sipped his two shots of long black with no sugar.

"Colloquium, Queen's theatre. Quite interesting," he mumbled in the middle of Picadilly Circus' Monday crowd.

#scripts

(2)

The clear blue sky were slowly changing to bright orange, as the warm dimming light went in through every window in the palace. The almighty King still sat in his altar since hours with his ceremonial tea in the short table. Sweats on his face shows the anxiety and overwhelming thoughts he had in mind. He was still in denial over the conspiracy he made up about the kingdom's intruder, even though it hasn't been proved.

Clack!

The grand hall's door opened to a kingdom's soldier entering the room. He stared at the soldier walked then stopped perfectly in the center of the hall, standing strong facing him but with face covered with the armor helmet.

The soldier bowed, before delivering a report, "Your highness, the area is clear and safe now. Nonetheless, we may need stronger weapons to strengthen the border's protection."

The King almost recognise the voice, familiar yet strange. He creased his temple while not letting go of his stare.

But he knew for sure, this wasn't one of his soldiers.

"Take off your helmet," he commanded.

He took a single sip of his tea from the little cup on the table. "You don't have to play pretend on me, for I am not dumb enough to not realise it."

The "soldier" gave up the cover, took of the helmet to then revealed a certain characteristic of a woman's face with her hair tied up in a bun. Even at a distance, The King could immediately recognise her for she had almost every elements of The King's figure; like another half of him, a twin.

And she was absolutely, the twin sister of His Majesty.

"Have I not seen you for a long time, brother," she said, with a soft tone of insincerity.

"How am I not surprised? You truly came back home, as you promised."

She took off every armor on her body leaving only silk and cotton clothing, threw them aimlessly on the floor then slowly walked her way to the altar.

"And as expected, you finally became the king now, the title I always wanted but never destined to be mine."

"Are we going to fight about this again? You left us then coming back just to confront your envy to me?"

"I am the firstborn and that throne was supposed to be mine! BUT I WAS IMMEDIATELY DISCARDED BECAUSE I AM A WOMAN."

"WE COULD'VE CHANGED EVERYTHING IF YOU WEREN'T BEING STUBBORN AND LEFT!" he stood up from his seat and walked down the altar with anger seeping in his blood.

The loud voices of the twins suddenly silent and left the air tense. Only seconds after they stopped shouting at each other, sounds of flying arrows and clanging swords were heard from just outside the hall. The King's breath shortened hearing the sounds of pain and suffering of his soldiers outside, meanwhile his sister just smiled with a piercing glare.

"I can change it myself, brother. I will take what's supposed to be mine with my own hands."

She took off her sword, immediately aiming the sharp end to her brother's neck. He stood defenseless, but with no fear shown in his face.

"I would never lie to you, dear sister. We could've change the rules and you would have the title instead of me. But you let your ego consumed you and taking things the hard way. Now, would this be considerable aspect for one to be the right ruler of the people?"

She stood silence for a moment, before stating her deepest emotions once more, "No, you won't deceive me again, brother. We will never be the same. You could just sit yet still getting everything you want, while I have to get it all myself."

"I never chose to have this... I-"

"I will get what I want, even if it takes eliminating a part of me."

The tip of her sword was only a grain of rice away from his neck out of her vengeance. Her hands started to tremble, holding on tight to the sword handle.

"You were, in fact, a crucial part of me by nature. But you're getting in my nerves and I have no choice but to abolish half of myself for my own sake."

Quickly, she swung her weapon across The King's neck while he instantly closed his eyes out of disbelief.He could hear the sound of the metal sword frictioned with the air, but didn't feel any pain. A blinding white light covered every corners of his sight before it suddenly disappeared into a void of black.

A loud alarm ring pierced his ears and woke him. He took a moment to gain consciousness, then pressed the off button on his table clock to turn off the loud sound. It took him another moment to realise, everything were only his nightmare, and he wasn't murdered by his own twin.

"Oh, God! That was intense," he mumbled.

Elyas sat up from his bed to take his phone from the nightstand. He turned his phone on to navigate the message feature in it, searching for the conversation he had with Elisha through his blurred vision.

[END]

#scripts #thejordanssaga

(1)

"An intruder in our kingdom? Who were in charge of the guard shift last night?" asked the King, sat down in his altar.

The Head Guard on duty stepped his way forward to confirm he was indeed the one in charge. The King stared through eyes with mixed emotions of disappointment, a tiny rage, and disbelief of how he failed to serve his duty well. "Interesting. For many years, you haven't let anything slipped under your watch, so this is the first."

His Majesty took a deep breath in for a second, leaving an excruciate tense air in the room before he finally decide the next command to solve the problem.

"I will take no more excuses. Find them and bring them to me by sunset at the latest, all of you," he commanded.

All the kingdom head guards took a bow before quickly leaving the hall to serve the command.

Warm morning light was just getting in through the palace windows, yet already one fatal news was brought to him, interrupted his morning tea ceremony routine. The green tea tasted much more bitter than it should in his tongue, led him to despise only after two sips.

"Maid, please return this tray to the kitchen, I don't feel like having tea anymore," he called for the palace maid.

The maid immediately walked her way to the King's altar, took his tray of tea and it's tinkers to be brought back to the kitchen. "Right away, Your Majesty. But would you like a piece of cake or sweets for breakfast?"

"I'll let you know when I'm interested in another food or drink. Thank you."

"As you wish." The maid bowed then left the King alone in the hall.

The beloved King could not think clear for the kingdom's next movement to get rid of the mishaps- no, he couldn't even think about who would dare to come in unpeacefully into his territory. His majesty's mind are full of theories and conspiracies, that he no longer have visions of what's laying in front of him. He was drowned almost instantly in his own thoughts.

He finally left his altar to take a walk in the outdoor hall leading to the palace's garden, clearing out his mind for a while. The spot used to be his favourite out of every corners in the palace he grew up in. The disruptive thoughts suddenly overpowered by childhood memories, slowly brought him to a more stable state. The fresh air simply add the cherry on top to the atmosphere.

A sound of a glass windchime caught his attention immediately after it was blown by the spring wind. His gaze caught the existence of the soft purple coloured ornament with a piece of thick paper hanging in the bottom part. There, he noticed two hanja letters written on it that was very familiar for him. He was stunned, the air suddenly quieted with him.

Maybe, the time that was promised to him long long time ago, has finally came. He watches the wind blowing through the windchime with bitter feelings, the kind he get when drinking his favourite barley tea; bitter but warm.

If, by any chance, the person he thought of would show up soon, he wouldn't be surprised anymore. Promises are not meant to be broken, sometimes, as he thought.

(TBC.)

#scripts #thejordanssaga

8th September, 2022.

The London bridge has fallen.

That was the code sent on this day. Her Majesty had passed, 'twas black all over the country. The usual red banner in BBC changed to black this time, and it was the darkest hours I have ever been my whole life. Everything stopped, and… I believe every activity will be on hold for a whole day. Truly, this was devastating.

I never knew Her Majesty personally, but I suddenly remembered about the legendary Queen's tea cake that I never knew was very addicting. Soft tea biscuits covered in a chocolate mixture, combined with the pride earl grey tea… man, that was royal I'm telling you. And that's the only thing royal I could do amidst of my actually miserable life.

Every TV channels are playing Her Majesty's documentaries. She was really beloved. But if I could complain a little, there's literally nothing that I could do today except rotting in my own sofa. I chatted Elisha about the news, then she told me she already got the news first thing in France.

A friend asked me to go to London with him to Her Majesty's burial. I have no damn idea how he could possibly get the pass, but he was really magical. Since he had one more pass, I asked Elisha if she would come too and maybe have a break some time in London. Still waiting for her answer, I do hope to see a long lost sister even though it's not really in a good moment, but it's not wrong to seek a tiny joy in between devastating time, isn't it? I always wondered about her, and this might answer it all.

And the thing about these devastating hours are there would be a single hole for something to happen. Everyone is looking their way to The Queen's passing, and that is an opportunity for the small amount of people. I rejected an offer just now, it's just doesn't sit right with me. Still, that was a warning to me that something big will happen. It will continue without me anyway, so then I refuse to get my hands dirty.

I need to get my belongings now, my train to London will depart first thing in the morning and I would not like to miss it. This would be one adventure, seeing the fallen London bridge live in real time. Oh, right, it's His Majesty King Charles' era starting, innit?

Signed,

#080922 #journals

Elyas has been sitting in his part of the bunk bed with his legs shaking for minutes. He was clearly anxious about something, as he started to fiddle with fingers, almost shed one or few layers of skin off. Everything he had witness inside the bunker was terribly depressing.

The situation between refugees was very tense, something felt like a verge of death. For many years that Elyas has the thought to end things, now that he knows that he's on the edge of a brink, he suddenly got the urge of holding on for dear life; an instant reason to be alive.

He grabbed the stack of his old journals that survived the catastrophe, there was only seven remained of the yearly journal he wrote since young. He peeked through every single pages in hopes to find one important thing that might save his soul free from the underground hell.

And there it was; a journal from six years ago. Two of it's pages wasn't filled with the usual daily report, but rather two full pages of something necessary that made Elyas breathed a bit easier, even though he hasn't found out if the information is still useful.

"Elisha"

#bc

Deleanor State, 1941.

The moment when the government announced the emergency situation of Deleanor state shattered Elyas' Broadway dream to pieces smaller than the crumbles of a ruined building's wall. It shattered along with the glass and brick walls affected by the nuclear bomb. Even so, a little part of his soul wanted to stay alive, dragged him to tag along with the evacuating citizens.

Never once he thought that this would've happen in such a small territory, but it did, and it made him cursed anyone behind the failed nuclear experiment to death with all the almighty rage he could contain. Now that he had literal nothing left, he couldn't thought of anything else to do for a brand new life he's forced to be. All he could do was following play scripts, wearing costumes, acting like someone else on a big stage. No more spotlight, no more Broadway, no more theatrical acting for him now.

At least, he was lucky enough to be chosen for staying at an underground bunker in this emergency state. Edmund Dupont had restored a small part of faith in humanity. Elyas with his bag of remained belonging safely entered the bunker with Samuel, a fellow theatre actor and his colleague, tagging along.

"Identity cards, gentlemen." A guard asked them. Elyas immediately slipped out his ID from his blazer's pocket, written "Elyas K. Jordan" born 2nd of March 1915, and showed them to the man.

He, along with Sam, continued to walk entering the biggest room of the bunker. People were already gathered there, seemingly from many side of the world. The crowded room sparked a little discomfort to El. But again, what choice did he has other than the impossible to live out of contaminated air out there?

"Ain't a Great Gatsby party, but here we are," he sighed.

#bc

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