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writers_muses 13.8 Talk About Your Father *locked except for Meta interraction*
Jun. 17th, 2018 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
faery_ringIn the interests of Father's Day, write about your father. What is your relationship to him? Is it positive, negative or non-existent? Tell us a story about your father or the major father figure in your life.
I'm one of those whom you could say has a very complex relationship with my father. You see, my father, M. le Comte de Rochefort died before I was born. He lost a duel with his one-time brother and best friend over something....many things? The real reasons are not important. Suffice it to say, that the man whom I viewed as close to a father figure as was possible was my godfather, Hsu Danmei. He was there to catch me when I came into the world and was a fairly frequent and indulgent visitor to our chateau. He has always been as supportive as possible for the whole of my life.
My father, so I was later to learn, was never far away in the spirit realm. I could almost sense his presence, and feel his eyes or rather eye staring down on me, Maman and the rest of us from the paintings that were all over the house. I confess, I used to talk to him, maybe even pray to him or his spirit at times, wherever that was, hoping in my little girl's mind that somehow, some way he could hear me. I would like to believe that he did.
Amarante always seemed to hear and see him and in her way was sometimes afraid. I was never afraid and wished I had her gift. Maman was only ever obsessed with wresting him back from the Real of the Dead. She would pour over texts, scrolls, old dusty magical grimoires from every corner of the world and some she retrieved from any one of the Seven Realms of Existence, all with the idea that she would revive his carefully preserved remains that rested in the crypts of the Chateau de Rochefort.
Once, after anotherof my Mother's failed ritse at the Summer Solstice, I stole away to the crypts. The candles that were used were now just puddles and pools of smoldering wax of white and black in various states of solid or liquid. The room was filled with the remaining smoke of the incense that she so often used of Frankincense, Rosemary and other things I had no inkling of. I was able to climb up the dais upon which the sarcophagus rested and look down at him.
The man that was my father was at last real to me. There was no sign of decay. Maman had seen to that with her magic. To me, he looked as if at any moment his eyes would flutter open and meet my curious gaze. I confess, I half expected him to. After some moments, I finally managed to whisper to him. "Bonjour, papa. Je suis votre fille, Caroline Elizabeth."
Of course, there was no response. My father was still within the Realm of the Dead and would remain so for some centuries. In that time there would be a Revolution, countless wars, and still we were able to keep ourselves, the Chateau and our Ville safe; sometimes just barely. Still my mother did the rituals and still, my father slumbered.
Then one day, she succeeded.
It was never clear how she had done so, just that she had. Shortly after, I got to meet my father. It was bittersweet, but a relief. Shortly after that, my parents were expecting my sister, Jocelyn. She became their focus, and I pursued my musical career, met and married my beautiful husband, Stelios and moved on with my life. Some of the latter, however, has been a bit of contention with my Papa and myself.None of the least of which my arrogant bastard of a father saw fit to shoot my Immortal husband at an awards ceremony, just because he could! I am not sure if any of it can be ironed out. But for my part, I am willing to try.
Muse: Caroline de Rochefort
Fandom:Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Cross posted towriters_muses
I'm one of those whom you could say has a very complex relationship with my father. You see, my father, M. le Comte de Rochefort died before I was born. He lost a duel with his one-time brother and best friend over something....many things? The real reasons are not important. Suffice it to say, that the man whom I viewed as close to a father figure as was possible was my godfather, Hsu Danmei. He was there to catch me when I came into the world and was a fairly frequent and indulgent visitor to our chateau. He has always been as supportive as possible for the whole of my life.
My father, so I was later to learn, was never far away in the spirit realm. I could almost sense his presence, and feel his eyes or rather eye staring down on me, Maman and the rest of us from the paintings that were all over the house. I confess, I used to talk to him, maybe even pray to him or his spirit at times, wherever that was, hoping in my little girl's mind that somehow, some way he could hear me. I would like to believe that he did.
Amarante always seemed to hear and see him and in her way was sometimes afraid. I was never afraid and wished I had her gift. Maman was only ever obsessed with wresting him back from the Real of the Dead. She would pour over texts, scrolls, old dusty magical grimoires from every corner of the world and some she retrieved from any one of the Seven Realms of Existence, all with the idea that she would revive his carefully preserved remains that rested in the crypts of the Chateau de Rochefort.
Once, after anotherof my Mother's failed ritse at the Summer Solstice, I stole away to the crypts. The candles that were used were now just puddles and pools of smoldering wax of white and black in various states of solid or liquid. The room was filled with the remaining smoke of the incense that she so often used of Frankincense, Rosemary and other things I had no inkling of. I was able to climb up the dais upon which the sarcophagus rested and look down at him.
The man that was my father was at last real to me. There was no sign of decay. Maman had seen to that with her magic. To me, he looked as if at any moment his eyes would flutter open and meet my curious gaze. I confess, I half expected him to. After some moments, I finally managed to whisper to him. "Bonjour, papa. Je suis votre fille, Caroline Elizabeth."
Of course, there was no response. My father was still within the Realm of the Dead and would remain so for some centuries. In that time there would be a Revolution, countless wars, and still we were able to keep ourselves, the Chateau and our Ville safe; sometimes just barely. Still my mother did the rituals and still, my father slumbered.
Then one day, she succeeded.
It was never clear how she had done so, just that she had. Shortly after, I got to meet my father. It was bittersweet, but a relief. Shortly after that, my parents were expecting my sister, Jocelyn. She became their focus, and I pursued my musical career, met and married my beautiful husband, Stelios and moved on with my life. Some of the latter, however, has been a bit of contention with my Papa and myself.
Muse: Caroline de Rochefort
Fandom:Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Cross posted to
writers_muses
