Ever wondered what would happen if Kit never got addicted to drugs? Well I did and it was a mistake, so have this.
Christian Miller never had any interest in politics. He hadn’t known what he wanted to do with life, but he’d known it wasn’t that. But what he wanted had never mattered. He was smart and he had a nice smile and pretty eyes and he was a Miller. So his parents groomed him to follow in his mother’s footsteps. Angelique introduced him to her ‘friends’ as a future senator or governor or when she was feeling particularly extravagant, the would be president.
He’s willing to be she regrets that now. He’s willing to bet she regrets every second of it. He’s just looking for a bookie dumb enough to go for it.
Because Christian Miller is good at politics. Because he is smart and he does have a nice smile and pretty eyes and he is a Miller. So he goes to the parties and meets the people and smiles and plays along. He goes to college and takes the classes he’s told to take and waits, planning this out, biding his time. He makes friends of his mother’s friends and their children. He makes allies wherever he sees the chance. And then he runs for office.
He runs for his mother’s office, in the party opposite her.
And he’s so graceful and polite about it. He tells the press that he still loves her very much and he’s proud of how far she’s come and of course he still respects her-- not a word of this is true-- but that he thinks she’s misguided in her views and that it’s time for a change. He smiles and she seethes on the inside, but she’s a Miller too and she doesn’t show it.
They still have family dinners every week. Because it’s good for both of them, to show that they still love each other, politics aside. None of that’s true either. But politics aside, they never loved each other in the first place. Jamie is the only one who talks during dinner. He asks questions, pretends that things are fine, until he can’t pretend anymore and stops coming. Christian powers through without him, though it’s harder, but he’s determined.
People love him. He smiles and shakes hands and makes more friends. People trust him. He hates them all, but Jamie’s the only one who ever sees it, who sees anything resembling Kit and not Christian. And Kit’s miserable, but there doesn’t seem to be much for Jamie to do about it, other than be there at the end of the day, so Kit can be a little more himself and a little less… whoever the advisors need him to be.
He wins the election. It’s not a landslide, but it’s a bigger margin than anyone expects. But everyone seems to think there’s something so genuine about this son who’s standing up to his mother without trying to destroy her reputation. Kit laughs about it to himself; Angelique screams.
He has destroyed her reputation, because her career is her everything. She’s always placed it above everything else. It’s more important than her married and certainly more than her children. Or it was. Now it’s gone. He’s stolen it and there’s something far too satisfying about that.
His family thinks he’ll stop. He’s won, he’ll serve his term, and then step down. Even Jamie thinks he’ll step down. But he doesn’t, because even though he’s never had any interest in politics, he’s found something he’s extremely good at. He is, after all, his mother’s son and though they’ll never admit it, they have plenty in common. He’s calculating and manipulative, too, just for a different side.
People hate him. Not just his mother and father and sometimes, though he’ll never admit, even Jamie. He’s a politician. People don’t trust that. Those are Kit’s favorite kind of people, the ones who can see through the bullshit and loathe it all. But they’re not the kind of people Kit can associate with. He has a career to think about and reputation to uphold. People like that are trouble.
People like that include a hacker and an ex-hunter, a dragon and a seer, who never meet because there’s no warehouse for them to live in, no Kit to bring them all together. Some of them don’t know who Christian is, don’t have the time to care about politics. Some of them don’t like him. The seer thinks he’s an asshole. He’s not wrong. But it doesn’t matter what they do or don’t think about him, because he’ll never meet any of them.
He’s too busy being Christian Alexander Miller, politician and prodigal son.
Every year that had passed by Kitra always found herself doing the same thing. Whenever certain anniversaries would come up she would spend them at home remembering all of the should’ve-would’ve-could’ve’s. She had never gone out in all those years. Hell, even when she was with the White Fang she always found some excuse to come up with to tell Varou for why she needed to stay in. Thankfully the excuse of being female always seemed to have worked.
Though this year when she woke up that morning her eyes just focused on the ceiling. Her dreams had been blank as they normally were, but something had fallen into place in her soul between last night and this morning. It had made perfect sense, and Kitra was surprised she hadn't realized it sooner; Aira would not want her to be like this, someone that just let life pass her by for all time. It was not as if Kitra could stop that explosion that took out most of a Dust mine and parts of the surrounding town. But what she could do was to change her habits each year.
Kitra pushed herself up and made herself some breakfast. As she glanced over some headlines that came up on her scroll’s feed something caught her eye. A slow smile lit up her warm, brown face. Now that was something Aira would agree to. Her hand delved under her shirt to grasp the tiny crystal that had been her older sister's. It would dip into her savings, but what was the point of having those lien saved up if she didn't use them?
Not even an hour later Kitra was out of her place. A few hours after that she stepped onto the beach for the first time in her life. It was mostly empty -- probably because it was the middle of the work week, and school was still going on. Kitra set her things down and pulled off her shirt, leaving her in just a sports bra and a pair of shorts. The warmth of the sun felt phenomenal. The tonfa she brought were propped against her bag, ready just in case she needed them. The bracelet she wore was removed with care and tucked into a side pocket. This memory was for her and her sister. The memories tied to the bracelet would be met with head on once she was ready. Kitra was going to come to terms with her past this year if it killed her.
She felt as if she were on pins and needles as her green eyes turned to the sea. There was a moment of mental debate before she took in a slow breath and finally headed to the shore. Each step felt like a tiny bit of weight was being lifted off of her, and by the time her feet met the water Kitra swore she was lighter than air.
The afternoon was spent kicking around in the shallows and licking the salt spray off her lips. Whenever a shell caught her attention she grab it. Half the time the Faunus realized that there were still little creatures alive in the shells, so she let it go back into the ocean. Seeing the clams burrow back into the sand for protection had her amused for a few moments before another shell caught her attention.
The length of the beach was walked a few times before she finally worked up the courage to step off the sparking white sands and into the warm waters. The first wave that broke over her legs caused her to stumble a little, but the pattern was easy to predict. She grew bolder and soon was further out on the sand bar, the water just a little above her waist. The tiny crystal rested between her breasts, and she had to keep herself from grabbing it. The length of cord it was on had held up for years and was in no danger of breaking.
Her attention moved from the crystal to the water pulling as another wave came. Kit only had a moment to squeak in surprise before it broke over her and pushed her closer to shore. Drowned kitty imitation or not, she was laughing hard. The crystal was still on her, and she swore it twinkled in the sunlight. It made her feel as if Aira was with her and laughing as well. The Faunus turned onto her back, still laughing from the wave that had pushed her ashore.
This day was what she needed, Kitra thought. And Aira would definitely approve of her life being celebrated like this, not staying behind closed doors.
No, it was more than good, it was a lifesaver. It could sharpen focus during a training session, or it could allow one to drown out ghosts of the past. Right now Kitra was out with her weapon and had just joined the tonfa to become the bo staff. The battered practice dummy had definitely seen better days, and when she delivered a sound blow to its head she felt something snap in her.
The music was not loud enough to drown out what her mind was throwing at her. Sometimes she thought of the fire that she supposedly died in, the way those flames felt as they licked at her skin. Yet the phantom pain from that was not the problem. The room filled with smoke and heat didn't phase her as the memory played.
It was his voice. Her old partner. The pain in his voice as she heard her name called. No matter how loud she turned the music up the panicked tone did not fade. So distracted she was, so desperate to drown out the past that she swung too hard. The blow caused her form to drop and the staff hit her hard on the shoulder. Her weapon dropped into the dirt as she leaned against the practice dummy.
The panicked tone roared in her ears, her name becoming a mantra, a prayer for her to be alive. Yet she didn't call out to her partner. Not once did she try, and the guilt felt as if it would consume her. Her knees gave out as she sank to the ground, and it was then that she noticed the tears that had streaked down her cheeks. A hand ripped the headphones off and hurled them passed the practice dummy. Kitra didn't see where they landed as she curled up and gave in to the tears for the first time in years.
And for the first time she didn't wonder what Aira would do for this. She didn't wonder what words her deceased sister would have said. It was just that voice calling for her.
She would never forgive herself for what she did. Kitra was not worth ever hearing those words from herself, or from him. Not today or in the next life.
Long after her tears had dried she pushed herself up and mechanically dusted her pants off. So much for working her frustrations out against the dummy she had set up in the clearing. All she wanted to do was take a hot shower and curl up with some hot chocolate.
Maybe she should seek him out, Kitra thought as she headed back into the city. Find him and... See if she was worth forgiveness.
For the-spark-in-the-dark
Words: 350ish
((We need to name this verse omg.))
Here’s a little “what happened before” thingy for you.
Kit had summed up the job. Big money, private collection, sketch buyer. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but it was sketchier than normal and Kit had to talk them into it. Oh, and there was one other issue.
They needed outside help.
Em pointed out that none of them worked well with others—they barely worked well with each other. Kai added the fact that they didn’t know anyone with the skills they needed. Kit rolled his eyes, reminded him that he knew that, and insisted that they could find someone. By “they”, he meant “Kai”, who sighed, but grabbed his laptop and started digging.
It didn’t take long to find several possibilities. They needed someone who could work with electricity in a way Kai couldn’t. Further digging told him that two of them were dead—actually dead and not just dead to the world or whatever. One of them was in South Africa and another had last been spotted in India. That left two, but when he kept looking around, he found that one was in high security prison and breaking him out was too illegal even for them. That left one girl.
“Madelyn Elizabeth Lawson,” Kai said, pulling up the files on her. Em and Kit leaned over his shoulders to look it over.
“Hey, she’s older than me. That’s cool,” Em observed.
“Looks like she works on the other side of the city,” Kit commented, eyes skimming all the information on the screen.
Kai quirked an eyebrow at them. “So what? We just approach her and ask her if she wants to help us steal something?”
“Yep,” Em answered.
Kit shook his head. “No. You approach her and ask if she wants to help us steal something.”
“Why me?”
“It’s the people skills, isn’t it?” Em asked.
Kit nodded. They argued it over, before he caved.
“Fine. I’ll see if I can get a total stranger to agree to pull off a heist with us, but when this goes south, it’s all your fault.”
Prompt: Write a scene that involves a pencil drawing
There were few things that Kitra kept from her former life of innocence. A necklace and bracelet that she wore were two of those things. The other item was a small drawing. Her green eyes had studied the drawing so much over the years that every little stroke of the pencil, the marks where someone had tried to erase a few of the deeper pencil strokes, and even the grain of the paper were a permanent part of her memory.
Though she couldn't remember doing it Aira had insisted that it was Kitra's drawing. There was a childlike touch to it, given how simplified the image was. The lettering hinted at it too. Aira with a backwards R-A as well as a backwards R-A when it came to her own name. Above the lettering were two girls holding hands. The taller one had Aira's necklace and the shorter one had exaggerated ear tufts. Kit laughed to herself at that as she remembered that even the slightest wind made the tufts of fur feel longer than normal. The Faunus still laughed under her breath as she folded it back up. The drawing was slipped into her wallet and she took a few moments to stare off into the distance.
Sometimes it hurt knowing that she had no other living blood relatives. Though since she found the White Fang she found a place that she could fit in to. There were friends here, and that thought was comforting.
Still, she wished that Aira could be around to see it.
