houseofcards_rp | [OTA] Beware of Greeks bearing gifts

Zoe's twenty-first birthday had started well enough, with murmured birthday wishes from Victor and a promise of dinner tonight before he left to start his day either in his office here or the one over at Club Castle. And it had, for a few hours at least continued well. She dropped in on the accounting office to check on Penelope - she might be taking the day off, but her assistant was still new enough that she liked to check in before disappearing for the day. Then she'd dropped into the Head of Finance's office to hand over the expenditure reports for September and smile at Edison's side-eye. He was a Six, after all, and had some idea that Zoe had plans to challenge him at some point, but there was little he could do about that.

And he wouldn't be wrong, anyway.

The day only went south when she headed down the hall and found a pair of Heart Twos with a box. The library was quiet this time of day, and she hated to let people into Victor's rooms, so she nodded in that direction, letting them put it on a table deep in the stacks and dismissing them before she opened the note. She recognized the handwriting, after all.

Darling, Happy Birthday and a belated congratulations on your impressive achievement of Five. Of course, if you'd stayed put, you could be a Nine with your dear, dear brother by now, but I'm sure you're intelligent enough to not realize that.

I'd hate to leave this day unacknowledged. These are some things I thought you'd enjoy, dear.

Charlotte Huntly Kattalakis

Well, Zoe thought as she picked up the yellowed letters and unfolded the first. They ran the gamut: letters from Charlotte, letters from Aunt Maggie, letters from someone named Maria. Correspondence of a more...professional sort - off-Deck jobs, compensation for them.

It was all supposed to upset her, Zoe thought. And it...didn't, really. She'd known even if she'd pretended not to, what kind of man her father had been. She'd seen things, she thought, and then she blinked when she saw a black velvet box tossed carelessly in the corner of the box, reaching over to pick it up. Inside were earrings, and a note old enough that the paper had started to yellow.

Για Ζωή, για εικοστό πρώτο έτος της ηλικίας της.

"Papa," she murmured, and leaned back in the chair as she looked down at the jewelry. Would he be upset with her for what she'd done with her life? Did it matter? It shouldn't, certainly, especially not after this summer, but...

Well.

Maybe it did, a little.

[Translation: For Zoe, on her twenty-first birthday.]

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Dramatic rebellions took a lot of effort to organise and would disrupt Aoife's routine. She also rather liked Orla so she did not have a reason to stir up trouble in the first place.

"I may've seen the place-- from the outside." Could it possibly come as a surprise to anyone that Aoife did not actively seek party scenes? She was not against the concept of 'going out' but it all seemed a bit pointless if you were going somewhere on your own.

It's not much fun, going to a club alone. Zoe's done it a couple of times - in her teen years, when Hadyn was busy and she wanted to do something to at least try to annoy her mother.

"It can be fun," Zoe says. "The dancing and the people watching, honestly, more than the drinking part."

"Surprisingly, I'm not too bad at holdin' my liquor. After I turned sixteen, Dad used to take me to the pub and he'd sometimes buy me a Guinness. We kept it from Mam of course," she confessed.

"Strange, I can dance just fine too but I've never gone clubbing. I guess I'm more used to pub culture."

"I've heard the Irish are supposed to be good at that." Victor wasn't, and she got the feeling via one of his few friends that this was likely a matter of embarrassment to some degree. "I'm a complete lightweight myself. You'll know when I start giggling."

She smiles at that. "I go to bars more often - especially the Four Suits? But sometimes it's fun to do something different."

"My dad thinks he's good at it but he's mellowed since he got married," she laughed. Victor seemed to Aoife the dark, brooding type of Irishman rather than the Whiskey in the Jar bellowing type.

"The Four Suits is good fun. I also discovered Henry's a while ago. It's a small family-run business. The owner, Gabe is a new Heart-- I think."

"That probably happens to most men," Zoe says with a smile. "Or maybe just when they get older?" Aoife would probably be surprised to hear that Victor did, in fact, bellow Whiskey in the Jar on one of their first dates.

They had an interesting definition of dates.

"Oh, yes. I've been there...last week, I think? Gabe's actually Deck-born, but he was gone a long time."

That would surprise Aoife, more so if she had not seen Victor carrying a bottle of whiskey into the church of all places. She never did find out what that was about. She wasn't judging, thinking on it just made her smile.

"I figured he'd been on-Deck before, when he said the pub had belonged to his grandfather. I just hadn't seen him around until recently."

It's possible that the priest might have appreciated it after Victor was done - but Zoe didn't even know Victor had been to church. He hadn't gone often before, after all.

"He's recently returned, I think. Gone for something like...ten years? More, maybe?" It was something of an open secret as to why, of course, but Zoe tried not to gossip.

Aoife no longer attended Mass very often so she could hardly point fingers at Victor. She was seeking an experience that was more spiritual than religious. Perhaps a quiet rebellion was taking place after all.

"I was just, ehm, just wonderin'. The Deck's bigger than most villages, it's hard t' remember everyone's stories."

Zoe goes to Orthodox mass...not as often as she used to, actually. There are better ways to spend Sunday mornings these days.

"I've only really been to cities Outside," Zoe explains. "Except Santorini, in Greece, but it's still a lot more people than the Deck."

"It's not very big but I like it here," Aoife confessed. "The Deck's like some sort'o cultural melting pot."

"I can't really imagine living anywhere else," Zoe tells her. "The people are always interesting, and there's almost always something going on." Sometimes too much, really. But it's home.

"Where are you from, in Ireland?" She asks. Victor doesn't - and won't ever, really - talk about it.

The Deck was packed with activity, considering its size. Aoife had not quite decided whether she wanted to stay there indefinitely.

"Galway, though we left when I was quite young," she answered Zoe. The area fell under the Republic of Ireland. Aoife had been fortunate enough to grow up without religious or political conflicts directly affecting her. "We moved to Derbyshire but tha' didn't really change my accent," she continued. The strength of her Irish brogue fluctuated with her emotions.

"I suppose since your parents had it, it would stay around," Zoe says. She speaks Greek with a Thessaly accent, after all, like her father's. "So I suppose you don't remember it much, then."

[OTA] Beware of Greeks bearing gifts

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