For melliyna: A Good Beginning
Feb. 21st, 2011 05:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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thirdmondayTitle: A Good Beginning
Recipient:lilalanor
Fandoms: Real News
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters/Pairings: Rachel Maddow, Melissa Harris-Lacewell, Parker Harris-Lacewell
Prompt: Alternate NYC. Aeronaut Maddow falls in true love with a Lady. Professor Melissa is a lady, a mother to a young girl and a passionate, brilliant speaker and activist. Together they save the world.
Disclaimer: All copyrighted materials referred to in this work are the property of their respective owners. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author:willwrite_fortea
Author's note: I gave the prompt a small steampunk twist, credit to the use of the word 'aeronaut.' It made me think of Rachel up in flying machines along the city's skyline. The story sort of wove around that. A big thank you to my beta, Jess, who was very patient and put a lot of thought into her part.
When she needed to remember what the sky smelled like and needed a break from the heat of the repair shop, Rachel went up in her favorite flying machine, a glider by the name of Poppy. She took great joy in easing her way around the large blimps and hover devices that the city’s many university kids use on the weekends. Some days the sky was so crowded she had to skirt the caps on the ocean instead along with the gulls, but that was rare.
But today the skies were relatively clear and there were masses marching down the main streets of Manhattan. Rachel guided her craft a bit lower, catching some of the phrases being shouted and the words painted on the banners and signs of the crowds. They seemed to carry the common theme of voting and the rights of women.
The majority of the crowd seemed to be gathering around a raised stage, with several podiums and microphones. A particularly large banner was draped behind the podiums, reading ‘10th Annual March for the Suffrage of Women, 1890.’ Rachel also spotted signs indicating groups from the New York University, Columbia University and other universities from the surrounding area, all of whom seemed to have a majority of young women in their ranks.
But there was one woman that seemed to make the others around her blur into colors and shapes, as if looking through the only clean spot on a sheet of glass, with her image clear as it could be. Here was a truly beautiful lady, all strong lines and curves in the right places. And when she turned to glance at the crowd, it was all Rachel could do to not stare. She was the only speaker standing on the stage who had dark skin, and even from her height Rachel detected a slight murmur in the crowd from the older members of the crowd.
The murmurs and buzzing of the crowd soon died down as the woman on stage began to speak. Rachel couldn’t hear the beginning of her speech, but the wind changed direction and carried more of her words upward,
“... -thered here today to raise our voices as one, demanding to have them heard and counted alongside those of male citizens of this city, of the state, and of the whole country. My sisters and friends, too long have we worked to make this democracy work for us and have not been heard.
Too long have we heard promises from candidates who said to our faces that they would work with us, then turn away once they set off for Washington...”
And on she went, detailing the plan and purpose of the march that would take place that afternoon. Something in her words lit a fire in Rachel’s belly, making her ache to stand beside this beautiful lady and march with her. At what felt like the closing of her speech, the woman looked up in the direction of Rachel.
What a sight she must have been, all dirty and scuffed up with engine grease, to this lady’s cleanliness and fresh-pressed suit. Not to mention her machine was in need of a good scrubbing and polish. Rachel guessed it was shock at seeing a craft that had glided so close without making a sound; but at this relatively close distance it was difficult to make out exact expressions.
She waved, grinned and saluted the lady with her cap, then took off to watch the procession that was slowly making its way downtown, presumably toward City Hall. It was quite the exciting sight, and the mood of the crowd was jubilant, with everyone either waving a flag, a banner or leading a section in song.
Rachel watched them disappear around a city block, her curiosity sated for now, but a part of her ached to join them on the ground. Most of all, she wanted to find the speaker who had roused them to such a procession, but she was probably already at City Hall by now.
---
Later that evening, Rachel touched down on the university campus and began to make her way to the engineering section for one last check on her blimp engine. The poor thing had been in the shop for weeks only for her to discover a small stray nut caught in the gears. Before she got there, she heard a voice from behind that sounded all too familiar.
“Hey! You with the flyer!”
Rachel grinned and turned, “Actually ma’am, it’s technically a glider. And it’s Rachel, not ‘you.’”
It was the lady speaker from the march, with a young girl in her shadow who bore a striking resemblance. Rachel guessed she was the lady’s daughter or niece. Once they both caught their breath, the lady introduced herself as Dr. Melissa Harris-Lacewell and the child as her daughter Parker. Melissa then questioned,
“May I ask what drew you to the rally?”
Rachel blinked, and in that moment the last rays of the setting sun hit her eyes partially, but the rest made Melissa’s head glow. In that instant she knew that she might have drawn by the crowds, but what kept her there was the brilliance of the woman before her.
So she folded her glider, strapping it to her back, and almost took Melissa’s hands, but remembered the several layers of grime on her own. Instead, she looked her in the eye and said,
“I’m honestly not sure the reason is as important at the reason I stayed.”
Parker giggled as Melissa blushed noticeably and responded, “Then I suppose we’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow? We’re planning the next steps and part of the plan includes a need for someone with your expertise.”
“Oh? And how do you figure that?”
“Well, Rachel, you bear a strong resemblance to the same Miss Rachel Maddow who’s currently vying for a key spot among the group of scholars, who travel to England every summer. A group that has been dominated by male scholars ever since the university was founded, correct?”
“You did your homework.” Rachel smiled. “But I still don’t-”
“We need your voice. I’ve seen your thesis proposal, and frankly I think you have the position in the bag. So I’m asking you, from one intellectual to another, will you lend us that voice?”
“You only had to ask, my lady.” And forgetting about the layers of grease, Rachel lifted one of Melissa’s hands and kissed it. Judging by the blush on Melissa’s face, she guessed the professor didn’t mind the gesture.
Recipient:
lilalanorFandoms: Real News
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters/Pairings: Rachel Maddow, Melissa Harris-Lacewell, Parker Harris-Lacewell
Prompt: Alternate NYC. Aeronaut Maddow falls in true love with a Lady. Professor Melissa is a lady, a mother to a young girl and a passionate, brilliant speaker and activist. Together they save the world.
Disclaimer: All copyrighted materials referred to in this work are the property of their respective owners. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author:
willwrite_forteaAuthor's note: I gave the prompt a small steampunk twist, credit to the use of the word 'aeronaut.' It made me think of Rachel up in flying machines along the city's skyline. The story sort of wove around that. A big thank you to my beta, Jess, who was very patient and put a lot of thought into her part.
When she needed to remember what the sky smelled like and needed a break from the heat of the repair shop, Rachel went up in her favorite flying machine, a glider by the name of Poppy. She took great joy in easing her way around the large blimps and hover devices that the city’s many university kids use on the weekends. Some days the sky was so crowded she had to skirt the caps on the ocean instead along with the gulls, but that was rare.
But today the skies were relatively clear and there were masses marching down the main streets of Manhattan. Rachel guided her craft a bit lower, catching some of the phrases being shouted and the words painted on the banners and signs of the crowds. They seemed to carry the common theme of voting and the rights of women.
The majority of the crowd seemed to be gathering around a raised stage, with several podiums and microphones. A particularly large banner was draped behind the podiums, reading ‘10th Annual March for the Suffrage of Women, 1890.’ Rachel also spotted signs indicating groups from the New York University, Columbia University and other universities from the surrounding area, all of whom seemed to have a majority of young women in their ranks.
But there was one woman that seemed to make the others around her blur into colors and shapes, as if looking through the only clean spot on a sheet of glass, with her image clear as it could be. Here was a truly beautiful lady, all strong lines and curves in the right places. And when she turned to glance at the crowd, it was all Rachel could do to not stare. She was the only speaker standing on the stage who had dark skin, and even from her height Rachel detected a slight murmur in the crowd from the older members of the crowd.
The murmurs and buzzing of the crowd soon died down as the woman on stage began to speak. Rachel couldn’t hear the beginning of her speech, but the wind changed direction and carried more of her words upward,
“... -thered here today to raise our voices as one, demanding to have them heard and counted alongside those of male citizens of this city, of the state, and of the whole country. My sisters and friends, too long have we worked to make this democracy work for us and have not been heard.
Too long have we heard promises from candidates who said to our faces that they would work with us, then turn away once they set off for Washington...”
And on she went, detailing the plan and purpose of the march that would take place that afternoon. Something in her words lit a fire in Rachel’s belly, making her ache to stand beside this beautiful lady and march with her. At what felt like the closing of her speech, the woman looked up in the direction of Rachel.
What a sight she must have been, all dirty and scuffed up with engine grease, to this lady’s cleanliness and fresh-pressed suit. Not to mention her machine was in need of a good scrubbing and polish. Rachel guessed it was shock at seeing a craft that had glided so close without making a sound; but at this relatively close distance it was difficult to make out exact expressions.
She waved, grinned and saluted the lady with her cap, then took off to watch the procession that was slowly making its way downtown, presumably toward City Hall. It was quite the exciting sight, and the mood of the crowd was jubilant, with everyone either waving a flag, a banner or leading a section in song.
Rachel watched them disappear around a city block, her curiosity sated for now, but a part of her ached to join them on the ground. Most of all, she wanted to find the speaker who had roused them to such a procession, but she was probably already at City Hall by now.
---
Later that evening, Rachel touched down on the university campus and began to make her way to the engineering section for one last check on her blimp engine. The poor thing had been in the shop for weeks only for her to discover a small stray nut caught in the gears. Before she got there, she heard a voice from behind that sounded all too familiar.
“Hey! You with the flyer!”
Rachel grinned and turned, “Actually ma’am, it’s technically a glider. And it’s Rachel, not ‘you.’”
It was the lady speaker from the march, with a young girl in her shadow who bore a striking resemblance. Rachel guessed she was the lady’s daughter or niece. Once they both caught their breath, the lady introduced herself as Dr. Melissa Harris-Lacewell and the child as her daughter Parker. Melissa then questioned,
“May I ask what drew you to the rally?”
Rachel blinked, and in that moment the last rays of the setting sun hit her eyes partially, but the rest made Melissa’s head glow. In that instant she knew that she might have drawn by the crowds, but what kept her there was the brilliance of the woman before her.
So she folded her glider, strapping it to her back, and almost took Melissa’s hands, but remembered the several layers of grime on her own. Instead, she looked her in the eye and said,
“I’m honestly not sure the reason is as important at the reason I stayed.”
Parker giggled as Melissa blushed noticeably and responded, “Then I suppose we’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow? We’re planning the next steps and part of the plan includes a need for someone with your expertise.”
“Oh? And how do you figure that?”
“Well, Rachel, you bear a strong resemblance to the same Miss Rachel Maddow who’s currently vying for a key spot among the group of scholars, who travel to England every summer. A group that has been dominated by male scholars ever since the university was founded, correct?”
“You did your homework.” Rachel smiled. “But I still don’t-”
“We need your voice. I’ve seen your thesis proposal, and frankly I think you have the position in the bag. So I’m asking you, from one intellectual to another, will you lend us that voice?”
“You only had to ask, my lady.” And forgetting about the layers of grease, Rachel lifted one of Melissa’s hands and kissed it. Judging by the blush on Melissa’s face, she guessed the professor didn’t mind the gesture.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-22 12:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-24 01:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-24 05:23 am (UTC)