Nano. RolePlay

Rappel du premier message :



Pavel suffered from many long days. Usually due to work, sometimes due to familial obligations, and other times due to social events. Today had been a little bit of everything.

The day had started off slowly. A few work calls, a quick visit to the office, some papers to be signed... Then a long ride back home. Most streets around the new cathedral had unfortunately been blocked off, which caused a  traffic jam. He should've factored in the time it would've taken to get home, but he had miscalculated just how popular the event would turn out to be.

Nonetheless, Pavel arrived just in time to accompany his wife and child to the sermon in the Nijni district. Yeva had voiced her concerns about subjecting Isaak to the violence of a public execution the evening before and Pavel had thankfully agreed it was in bad taste. In order to avoid possible public scrutiny, he had chosen to remain at the plaza with his in-laws, as Yeva excused herself.

After the inauguration, he popped into his usual gentlemen's club to discuss his latest business ventures whilst smoking a few exquisite cigars, then returned home to entertain his in-laws for tea. He was grateful to learn that the day had been equally long for them, which meant a swift goodbye rather than long discussions in the parlor.

But no rest for the wicked, for there was one more thing to cross off his agenda: a conversation with Yeva about their son.

"Well, you know how insufferable Mother can be, even at the best of times." Not that her mother had any say in how Isaak was raised if even Yeva herself had (as was currently quite clear) very little say in it. And not that Yeva typically cared about her mother’s snobbishness. She looked through the curriculum again. "I just wish you had given me notice more in advance. I would have adapted his lessons to these classes." Would he take the hint and delay Isaak's first school day? Probably not: men were notoriously bad at it (according to Oksana) and even if he understood it, she doubted he wanted to take any hints in that particular direction.

Traduction:

He would've conceded to her point had he not feared that giving her more time to adapt would end in a never-ending transition period. Pavel trusted his wife... to some extent. He did not trust her to make the best decisions for their son. She was too emotionally attached to him, through no fault of her own. Her previous miscarriage had made her paranoid, and it was plain to see that she suffered from separation anxiety. Clearly then, she could not be trusted to make a rational decision regarding Isaak's future. I am sure his teachers will be more than suited for the job.

"But his teachers have an entire class to teach, they will have no choice but to divide their attention amongst their pupils", and that was all the better: the least attention Isaak drew, the better, "whereas I can focus entirely on making sure Isaak is caught up with his peers." She probably should stop playing with her wedding band, because looking like a nervous wreck was certainly not helping her case. But, on the other hand, fidgeting like that gave her nervousness an outlet and she was not sure if she would be able to keep her nerves under control without that outlet.

Traduction:

He could read her like an open book. Yeva was predictably nervous. As a husband, he failed in trying to help calm her nerves... but only because as a father, he was trying to do what was best for his son. Yeva... this is happening. His voice was calm, but firm. Nothing she said would be able to change his mind. He had given her as much time to grieve as he could, but it had been years since her miscarriage. If she was not alright with it now, she never would be.

That it was indeed happening was all too clear to Yeva. As much as she wanted to prevent it, she had run out of arguments and she suspected that insisting further would only backfire. It would not do to put strain on her couple or have Pavel decide to further restrict her involvement in Isaak’s upbringing. Maybe Ineska had a point after all when she ranted about the imbalance between spouses in any marriage. All Yeva could do  now was trying to mitigate the risks to Isaak in his new environment. She was in for quite a few sleepless nights. She tried and failed to hold back a sigh : "I know…"

Traduction:

I would appreciate your help with telling Isaak, Pavel continued, now that he and Yeva were on the same page. He is not yet aware and will probably need an adequate explanation. One that did not lean too hard on the truth. "Your mother's fragile state forced you into homeschooling and now we must suffer the consequences of your father's hesitancy." No. That wouldn't do.

Yeva couldn’t help but clench her teeth at the request. She was briefly very, very tempted to tell Pavel to sort it out on his own. She had no choice but to accept his decision, but that did not mean she liked it or wanted to help with it. But, just as quickly, she relaxed her jaw and rejected that line of thought. Her likes and dislikes mattered little: she had a child and a marriage to care for. Being purposefully difficult would only harm Isaak’s chances and reduce her part in his upbringing. Another defeated sigh escaped her: "His birthday is coming up soon, it is as good an explanation as any. As you pointed out: he is a growing boy."

Traduction:

Yes. His birthday. The thought had escaped him. About that... perhaps we should throw him a party? Parties were not Pavel's domain. He had perhaps attended a few as a boy, but they had never thrown any as a family. Nothing in an official capacity at least. Inviting both their parents and close family had usually been the end of it. What do you think?

A party. A small part of her understood that he meant well, of course he did, but this might be the worst idea he had had in a while. Scratch that, his worst idea was putting Isaak in school soon. But this was a close second. She would need to word her actual reply a bit more tactfully, though. "His going to school soon is already a fairly big change, maybe we should not add a party on top of it. Simply invite our parents this year and throw a party next year, when he will have made friends we could invite." That was perfectly sensible and logical, right?

Traduction:

Perhaps she was right. This was a big change for Isaak and he might get overwhelmed. Very well. Small party it is. I'm sure he will be sociable enough to get invited to other parties soon either way. If Isaak was anything like his father, he'd make friends quickly.

Right, other parties. Which meant even more events where Isaak would risk close scrutiny and Yeva would be unable to protect him in case anything went wrong. Her anxiety rose another notch (it was even astonishing that it was still possible), but she tried to hide it behind a smile. "I am sure he will." While hoping that he would not.

Traduction:

And with that the conversation was concluded as far as Pavel was concerned. He topped off his own glass of wine, then stood up. We can speak to Isaak in the morning. I still have some work to finish before I head to bed, though. A real businessman does not take days off. Do not wait up for me if you wish to sleep.

She did want to sleep, but somehow doubted she would, though she kept that to herself. "Good night, then." She even managed a smile and took away the glasses. What was left of her own ended up in the kitchen sink. She went to bed and closed her eyes, but sleep predictably escaped her. Still, she kept trying until Pavel had joined her and she was sure he was fast asleep. Then, she left the bed, put on her dressing gown and headed to the nursery, where she was sure to be alone. There, on the bench where she had taught Isaak how to read, she finally let her fear and despair crash down on her without holding back her tears.

Traduction:

Unaware of his wife's troubled night, Pavel woke up in unison with his alarm clock. A nifty little thing that he had bought from his favorite watchmaker. The machinations of clocks had always fascinated him as a child, although he turned his interest to better uses as he grew up. He now preferred to understand what made people tick, rather than clocks. Ironic then that he was so oblivious to the secrets that were kept under his own roof.

He stood in front of their opened closet, comparing tie colors, then turned around to see whether Yeva would get up as well or if this was one of those days she would prefer to stay in bed.

She had finally gone back to bed and to sleep, somewhere in the grey zone between late night and early morning. Only to be woken up far too soon by the alarm clock. But, tempting as it was to go back to sleep, it was not an option. She sat up and stretched. Heavens, she didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know that concealing the bags under her eyes would take work. But she managed a not-too-sleepy smile when Pavel looked her way. "Good morning." Her eyes then traveled to the ties. "The burgundy one brings out your eyes." Which might not be his first consideration, of course. Gathering her strength, she rose to dress and do her hair.

Traduction:

He listened to his wife. Her advice was always sound and unbiased, unless it concerned their child (for which he showed an usual amount of understanding, he thought). Shall I ask someone to bring up breakfast in bed, or would you prefer to have it at the dining table? He asked as he knotted the burgundy tie around his neck. Some people of high standing had servants that dressed them, but Pavel had never felt the need for such help. Something that undeniably stemmed from his middle-class upbringing.

Wonderful, she had apparently tossed and turned in her sleep, because her hair was a tangled mess. She pulled on a particularly uncooperative knot. "I’ll be down in a moment. Could you please wait until I am there to tell Isaak?" She may not like this turn of events, but she was going to be there for her son every step of the way, as she’d always been. She just needed to get decent first. Something which she’d been used to doing alone ever since she was old enough to dress herself, as her nanny (and the only staff member in their household) had been busy assisting Yeva’s mother at this time of the day.

Traduction:

But of course. He nodded and left her to get decent at her own pace. Yeva was usually the one in charge to fetch Isaak for breakfast, but since this was a morning unlike any others, Pavel decided to swing by his son's room instead. His firm knock should've alerted their son of his father's presence before he opened the door. Isaak, get dressed. We're having breakfast together this morning. As opposed to mornings where he left early to go to the office.

Isaak’s surprise at this change in his routine was quickly replaced by a broad smile: "I’m coming!" Meanwhile, Yeva had finally managed to untangle her hair and tie it into a bun. A while later, she joined her husband and son in the dining room, all traces of her sleepless night erased. By then, Isaak was well into a description of the wonderful automatons featured in the last bedtime story his mother had read him, Dr. Ivan’s wondrous workshop.

Traduction:

Pavel was listening to the ramblings of his son with half an ear. Most of his attention was taken up by the newspaper he was reading. Nothing interesting seemed to be happening, which was good for business. Nothing was a bigger detriment to business than "big news". People do not travel when they are fearful. Ah, there's your mother. He folded the newspaper at her arrival, setting it down on the table next to his cup of tea.

"Mom!" Yeva returned her son’s smile despite her gnawing apprehension. She smoothed a strand of hair sticking up and kissed him good morning before sitting down. "Do you think there are really automatons that can write?" "I have never seen any at any rate. They would need an incredibly precise mechanism." She loved seeing that he shared her enthusiasm for technological marvels and it was so much easier than thinking about the discussion they were about to have.

Traduction:

What purpose do you think such an automaton would serve, Isaak ? His father inquired. Isaak has a vivid imagination, as children do, but Pavel liked to steer it towards more practical matters. If he were ever interested in starting a business in automatons, knowing what his customers needed and what would be willing to buy was of prime importance.

The real-life, practical aspect completely flew over Isaak’s head. Excited that his father was also taking an interest in his latest favourite story, he answered without hesitation: "It’s for a man who was a great writer, but then he has an accident and his hands are broken, so he can’t write anymore. And then he goes to Dr. Ivan’s workshop and Dr. Ivan makes him the automaton so the automaton can write aaall the stories he wants." It was a children’s story, the plot hardly a masterpiece, but the marvels described in it as well as the gorgeous illustrations were a good way to make her son enthusiastic about modern technology, in Yeva’s eyes.

Traduction:

Isaak was so enthralled with the story he had read that the reply to his father's question ended up as a simple summary. How interesting. Pavel did not show disappointment and simply smiled at his son's excitement. Surely school would help develop a less restrictive train of thought. He shared a glance with Yeva, looking for his spouse's guidance on how to best broach the subject he had waited to bring up.

If Yeva didn’t have such a mild temperament, Pavel’s glance would probably have received a glare in reply. She had no choice but to yield to his decision to send Isaak to school, but surely he could take care of everything himself? Apparently not. The only evidence of her displeasure were her briefly thinned lips before she got herself back under control. She even managed to smile before turning to Isaak: "How would you like to see what’s currently possible with real-world science?" His eyes lit up: "You found a new book for our lessons!" "Not quite…" She glanced back to Pavel. There, now he had his chance. Surely he could break the news?

Traduction: