Turn 16 - Fluff
Turn 16 - Fluff
“You want me to do what?”
You grin a bit, leaning back in your chair, as you watch Dominique Forsyth boggle across from you.
“Yes, I know you are the opposition leader, Ms Forsyth, but we need to work together as a planet if we’re going to succeed against an entire Great House.” you manage to keep your amusement out of your voice.
“So yes, I would like you to take the lead on this. You minored in Comparative Theology at the U, so I know you are qualified for it. And please correct me if I am mistaken, but I’ve been unable to find any requirement that, as Queen, I must only tap my supporters for things like this.” Your smile broadens a bit as you lean forward.
“Well, put that way.” the slender young woman across from you says. “I accept the charge.”
“Excellent.” you smile, nodding. “I’ve already instructed Dr Young and Professor Chapman to make their people available to you for this purpose.”
You rise from behind the desk to conduct the still somewhat surprised young parliamentarian from your office.
You’d needed to put somebody in charge of running the outreach and education campaign to try and educate the citizens of the planet about the various faiths and prevent problems like the near riot at the Shinto shrine from happening again. A sort of ‘we’re all in this together’ approach, not singling out any single one faith for special attention.
And then you’d decided to kill two birds with one well-aimed stone. Dominique was still insisting that she was in opposition to you, on the principle of opposition rather than out of any genuine disagreement. You had already decided that she was more the proverbial 6 year old in the room pointing out the flaws in the plans that the big brains had. You could work with that.
But you wanted that proverbial 6 year old in your planning meetings picking apart your plans, not working with those who genuinely opposed you out of personal ambition or malice.
If only everything were so easy.
The Pee-Wee Racing League was back in action, and now all three of your little men were racing. It had been bad enough when it was just your eldest, but now the twins are gleefully crashing into each other on their hovercraft, seeming to be racing purely for fun rather than competition, and each time it causes your heart to skip a few beats.
Of course, there were also things that made you so proud you were fit to burst. Jeremy was such a good big brother to his sisters. He’d actually let them decorate his hovercraft racer and managed to not once wince or complain when it came away from their ministrations painted in bright pink glitter paint with unicorn decals all over it. He even tried to talk the scrutineers into allowing Sarah’s stuffed unicorn to remain perched on the bow ‘to keep biggest brother safe!’.
Considering that Sarah was right there pouting, the fact that Jeremy managed to say that it was an important and innovative safety system with a perfectly straight face... and then when the scrutineer insisted that it was against the rules you wanted to grab your little man and fuss all over him when he promptly turned to his little sister and offered to let her put one of her big unicorn stickers on his helmet instead.
He obviously got all of that from you. Willis helped. A little. But it’s his fault that the boys are racing in the first place so he doesn’t get credit. That’s your story and you are sticking to it.
But now you have three boys racing, one in the cutest hovercraft ever, the other two had so far escaped their little sisters attention with how busy they’d been decorating Jeremy’s… you suspect that he intended that as well, looking out for the twins.
Jeremy was as competitive as always, racing near the front in every race and winning a number of them. You’ve seen some of the other boys try and bully him over his racer, only for him to shrug and ignore them. And you’ve also seen the girls his age looking all googly eyed at him. You firmly tell yourself that siccing Janet’s investigators on the girls would be a total misuse of resources. Willis keeps you from doing anything about the would-be bullies, and you are glad for it when you realize that Jeremy is shutting them down quite effectively on his own by simply ignoring them and being the bigger little man. And when one of them tried to get physical, the appearance of Bastet, One (1), Growling seemed to fix the issue right up.
This quickly turned into Bastet, One (1), Purring as the girls and those boys who weren’t bullies crowded around to give the Grifftiger the requisite tribute of scritchies and pettings.
Quan and James didn’t seem to care where they finished in the races, just so long as they had a blast. They were competitive with each other, but they seemed willing to ignore the rest of the racers.
Willis had figured that one out, they were waiting until their big brother was in the Junior League and no longer competing with them to take the racing truly seriously, they were simply learning everything they could about their racers.
Smart kids.
Another thing they obviously got from your side of the family. You earned a proper tickling from Willis for that crack. OK, so he contributed some too. Fine.
Men.
You make a point, like you had with your other kids, of taking little Sarah to one of the recreational pools in the palace complex to teach her how to swim. The pool is open to locals who pass through security screening for free, and is a popular place for families to take their kids during the heat of the day.
You truly enjoy spending time with other parents, especially those not of the nobility or from wealth. It’s a valuable reality check to keep you grounded in the actual concerns of your people, not simply what you are told their concerns are.
Of course, oftentimes your discussions are more about your kids than anything else, and that is just perfect for you. You’d rather spend all of your time talking about your kids.
However sometimes… here you are in the shallow end, working with your youngest along with a few other parents who have their own little kids with them learning how to swim and looking incredibly cute with their water wings.
Then you hear a shout “Last one in is a Kuritan!” from a bunch of boys who come stampeding out of the changing rooms and thunder into the pool like a rampaging herd.
You can’t help it. You start laughing helplessly, quickly joined by all the other mothers.
What a way to think of the Kuritans, as equal to rotten eggs.
Back in the office later that same day you get a memo from Tyler requesting a meeting.
Since he normally just shows up, this actually worries you. And when he shows up for the meeting your concerns grow even more.
He looks gray, tired, worn. Much more so than before. “Your Majesty.” he says with unusual formality, then coughs and looks even older. “I’ve been ordered by my doctors to either retire now and take it easy, or I’ll be dead in a few months.” he manages a smile. “My deputy can handle things for now, but my wife has issued one of her rare ultimatums and I am not going to disobey. I’m sorry, Jacqueline…”
He doesn’t manage to get any further than that before there is a Hug Interrupt. From you. He may be a walking hormone, but he’s been a loyal retainer, and is the great grandfather of your children. Obnoxious man that he is, you still consider him family and love him for who he is.
“Go, take care of yourself, and I’ll bring the kids over to visit this weekend.” you say firmly, kissing him on the cheek.
A few days later you get a memo from his deputy, showing a list of candidates for the permanent position as Minister for the Interior.
“You want me to do what?”
You grin a bit, leaning back in your chair, as you watch Dominique Forsyth boggle across from you.
“Yes, I know you are the opposition leader, Ms Forsyth, but we need to work together as a planet if we’re going to succeed against an entire Great House.” you manage to keep your amusement out of your voice.
“So yes, I would like you to take the lead on this. You minored in Comparative Theology at the U, so I know you are qualified for it. And please correct me if I am mistaken, but I’ve been unable to find any requirement that, as Queen, I must only tap my supporters for things like this.” Your smile broadens a bit as you lean forward.
“Well, put that way.” the slender young woman across from you says. “I accept the charge.”
“Excellent.” you smile, nodding. “I’ve already instructed Dr Young and Professor Chapman to make their people available to you for this purpose.”
You rise from behind the desk to conduct the still somewhat surprised young parliamentarian from your office.
You’d needed to put somebody in charge of running the outreach and education campaign to try and educate the citizens of the planet about the various faiths and prevent problems like the near riot at the Shinto shrine from happening again. A sort of ‘we’re all in this together’ approach, not singling out any single one faith for special attention.
And then you’d decided to kill two birds with one well-aimed stone. Dominique was still insisting that she was in opposition to you, on the principle of opposition rather than out of any genuine disagreement. You had already decided that she was more the proverbial 6 year old in the room pointing out the flaws in the plans that the big brains had. You could work with that.
But you wanted that proverbial 6 year old in your planning meetings picking apart your plans, not working with those who genuinely opposed you out of personal ambition or malice.
If only everything were so easy.
The Pee-Wee Racing League was back in action, and now all three of your little men were racing. It had been bad enough when it was just your eldest, but now the twins are gleefully crashing into each other on their hovercraft, seeming to be racing purely for fun rather than competition, and each time it causes your heart to skip a few beats.
Of course, there were also things that made you so proud you were fit to burst. Jeremy was such a good big brother to his sisters. He’d actually let them decorate his hovercraft racer and managed to not once wince or complain when it came away from their ministrations painted in bright pink glitter paint with unicorn decals all over it. He even tried to talk the scrutineers into allowing Sarah’s stuffed unicorn to remain perched on the bow ‘to keep biggest brother safe!’.
Considering that Sarah was right there pouting, the fact that Jeremy managed to say that it was an important and innovative safety system with a perfectly straight face... and then when the scrutineer insisted that it was against the rules you wanted to grab your little man and fuss all over him when he promptly turned to his little sister and offered to let her put one of her big unicorn stickers on his helmet instead.
He obviously got all of that from you. Willis helped. A little. But it’s his fault that the boys are racing in the first place so he doesn’t get credit. That’s your story and you are sticking to it.
But now you have three boys racing, one in the cutest hovercraft ever, the other two had so far escaped their little sisters attention with how busy they’d been decorating Jeremy’s… you suspect that he intended that as well, looking out for the twins.
Jeremy was as competitive as always, racing near the front in every race and winning a number of them. You’ve seen some of the other boys try and bully him over his racer, only for him to shrug and ignore them. And you’ve also seen the girls his age looking all googly eyed at him. You firmly tell yourself that siccing Janet’s investigators on the girls would be a total misuse of resources. Willis keeps you from doing anything about the would-be bullies, and you are glad for it when you realize that Jeremy is shutting them down quite effectively on his own by simply ignoring them and being the bigger little man. And when one of them tried to get physical, the appearance of Bastet, One (1), Growling seemed to fix the issue right up.
This quickly turned into Bastet, One (1), Purring as the girls and those boys who weren’t bullies crowded around to give the Grifftiger the requisite tribute of scritchies and pettings.
Quan and James didn’t seem to care where they finished in the races, just so long as they had a blast. They were competitive with each other, but they seemed willing to ignore the rest of the racers.
Willis had figured that one out, they were waiting until their big brother was in the Junior League and no longer competing with them to take the racing truly seriously, they were simply learning everything they could about their racers.
Smart kids.
Another thing they obviously got from your side of the family. You earned a proper tickling from Willis for that crack. OK, so he contributed some too. Fine.
Men.
You make a point, like you had with your other kids, of taking little Sarah to one of the recreational pools in the palace complex to teach her how to swim. The pool is open to locals who pass through security screening for free, and is a popular place for families to take their kids during the heat of the day.
You truly enjoy spending time with other parents, especially those not of the nobility or from wealth. It’s a valuable reality check to keep you grounded in the actual concerns of your people, not simply what you are told their concerns are.
Of course, oftentimes your discussions are more about your kids than anything else, and that is just perfect for you. You’d rather spend all of your time talking about your kids.
However sometimes… here you are in the shallow end, working with your youngest along with a few other parents who have their own little kids with them learning how to swim and looking incredibly cute with their water wings.
Then you hear a shout “Last one in is a Kuritan!” from a bunch of boys who come stampeding out of the changing rooms and thunder into the pool like a rampaging herd.
You can’t help it. You start laughing helplessly, quickly joined by all the other mothers.
What a way to think of the Kuritans, as equal to rotten eggs.
Back in the office later that same day you get a memo from Tyler requesting a meeting.
Since he normally just shows up, this actually worries you. And when he shows up for the meeting your concerns grow even more.
He looks gray, tired, worn. Much more so than before. “Your Majesty.” he says with unusual formality, then coughs and looks even older. “I’ve been ordered by my doctors to either retire now and take it easy, or I’ll be dead in a few months.” he manages a smile. “My deputy can handle things for now, but my wife has issued one of her rare ultimatums and I am not going to disobey. I’m sorry, Jacqueline…”
He doesn’t manage to get any further than that before there is a Hug Interrupt. From you. He may be a walking hormone, but he’s been a loyal retainer, and is the great grandfather of your children. Obnoxious man that he is, you still consider him family and love him for who he is.
“Go, take care of yourself, and I’ll bring the kids over to visit this weekend.” you say firmly, kissing him on the cheek.
A few days later you get a memo from his deputy, showing a list of candidates for the permanent position as Minister for the Interior.
[] | Name | Interior Actions | Other Actions | Bio & Specials |
[] | Roosevelt Weaver | 3 | 1 Political | Current deputy, senior man in the ministry at this time, well liked by Parliament |
[] | Bridget Doyle | 4 | 0 | Currently runs industrial liaisons with the interior ministry, very junior, classmates with Dominique Forsyth |
[] | Steven Pope | 3 | 1 Military | Military Liaison within the interior ministry |
[] | Rose Lawson | 3 | 1 research | University liaison within the interior ministry |