Nicolo di Genova (
peace_inthe_violence) wrote2020-09-09 02:21 pm
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Malta

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.
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She couldn't help the smile that emerged at that conclusion, just nodding, "Yeah, the phone poll he did of neighboring districts and parents in our district was..." She shook her head then, "It was the kind of leading questions that people didn't realize were leading. He got the results he needed though, which was the idea. Some of the faculty fell for it too, which was just icing on the whole thing."
Her voice dipped a little, not exactly an impersonation of her brother, but definitely quoting: "Ma'am, are you aware the dress code at this school hasn't been updated since 1972, and that the update was only to include a stipulation on hair length on male students?" The smile that emerged was warm, "Faculty learned real fast not to tell a Freeman 'that's just the way things are'. It's never true, it's just the way things have been."
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The point, though, was to let her talk. He didn't quite understand the important of updating a dress code but that didn't matter. It was matter to her brother and he had kept going until he won. Nile was proud, as well. The story mattered to her.
"What we do doesn't always feel like changing the world but we help. If you see something you want to get involved in you can bring it to the group. It's rare we've said no to each other." Booker couldn't remember a time when they had.
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She nodded at the offer, "I'll keep it in mind." There was a narrow smile that followed, and an arched brow, "But that was also a warning, you all should know better than to try and tell me anything's just the way it is. You'd better be prepared with a damn good explanation, or be prepared for a fight."
Which was undoubtedly something they'd already figured out before she'd had things thrown forcibly into perspective, but she felt it needed to be made clear anyway.
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His sense of humor was rather warped but at least it wasn't one of his more morbid jokes. The other way it tended to shift was towards dark and grim. It was much better she got a dad joke instead.
"If you don't want to do something we choose you can sit that out as well. It's been rare over the years but we've done it. I spent most of World War 2 in Paris while the others were all over Europe."
He had started with them and helped liberate a few of the early concentration camps but when Paris fell... he was gone.
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She scratched the back of her neck with one hand then, squinting skyward briefly, "You know, I read a book on anti-gravity once." The barest pause before she shook her head, expression still thoughtful, not giving the joke away even if he knew what was coming, "Literally couldn't put it down."
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"You know, you're a good kid," he said with a small genuine smile. "You're gonna be great for the team."
And he really felt that.
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She also decided that she liked the fact that she'd actually gotten a smile, one she'd seen the edges and angles of when he was interacting with the others, but it was different when it was more or less at her instead.
"I was going to argue about being called 'kid', because usually I'm a fine young lady, but I guess in comparison, I'm definitely a kid. So I'll take it."
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He got up and slid his flask into his back pocket. "I guess I'll leave you to your gardening since you've figured out a lot of this."
Like not going back to her family and that they weren't out to hurt her. Booker felt she'd get through those first rocky weeks a lot better than he did.