Pride & Persistence

"Aren't you going to be late?"

Did her mother have eyes in the back of her head? Anjya grabbed the sweater she had been hunting for off the couch, a rueful smile curling on her lips. She hiked her bag a bit higher on her shoulder, turning to look at her mom currently placed at the dining room table. Several stacks of books covered the table, one of which novels currently sat in front of Tellisie as she gracefully scrawled a signature on the inside cover.

"Signature day?" Anjya answered her mother's question with another, moving over to her side and leaning down to kiss her cheek. Tellisie tilted her head to accept it, but kept to her task.

"Every day is signature day, it seems- aren't you going to be late?" Tellisie blew on the wet ink once before she shut the book. Task paused, she looked up to her daughter, slipping her glasses off. Anjya lifted a hand up to her hair as her mother seemed to scrutinize her appearance. Tellisie had never been critical of her daughter's looks and yet, Anjya couldn't help but feel self conscious in the presence of her mother. Her mother, who could look elegant while settling in for a simple night at home. Her mother, who was quite honestly the most beautiful woman Anjya had ever known... though perhaps she was biased. Anjya couldn't help but feel pale in comparison. Her hair was determined to lie far more wild than her mothers. Her figure not yet come in. Even now, as perfectly done as her dance coach insisted for every member of the team, Anjya felt far more wild than her mother.

"Papa is going to drive me. Are you coming?" Anjya draped her sweater over her arm and grinned to her mother. Tellisie's brows rose and she gave her daughter an amused smirk.

"Sports aren't my thing, no matter who is playing, even if it is Ian Rogers. I would simply bring your Papa's and aunt's mood down." Tellisie replied ruefully. "Besides, I have to sign all these for the courier before I go to bed." She gestured to the table piled high with her newest publication, already a New York's Best Seller. Before Anjya could even fathom how many books that was to sign, not including the boxes stacks off to the side that her father had brought in days before the launch of the book. 'Wandering the World' titled across the front of the sky blue cover.

"What about my performance?" Anjya teased her mother, who took another moment to inspect her fifteen year old daughter. Her smirk only remained.

"Are you sure your father is going to allow you to perform at all like that?" Tellisie teased Anjya. Anjya quickly set her bag down and began to tug on her sweater to cover the sequin crop top. There was nothing she could do about the slitted skirt. The Spirit Sirens was a pep squad for the sports teams of her school on the weekends, a dance team for competitions- it wasn't her fault that came with a promiscuous uniform.

"Stop teasing, what if he really says no?"

"Your Papa knows how excited you were to get on the team. He isn't going to stop you." Tellisie laughed now before turning back to her task. "I am pretty certain he is outside waiting for you, though, you best be off. The team needs their pep squad to...pep them!"

"You really don't know much about sports." Anjya laughed before jogging off to the front door.

ooc: I can throw this away if you want. If you don't want Ian to be on a sports team (if he was, I really do think Becca would have pushed for Baseball, but he doesn't have to. He really could be on any team or multiple. I know he was more smarts centric, but I bet Becs would reeeeaaally push for some sports too). Anyways, I am not too attached. Let me know if you want it tossed.

Aslo, I haven’t written what has happened for the last nine years yet because I wasn’t certain this would be a good start.

And I put her at fifteen, skipping the first year of high school.

OOC: I like this intro.

I think Ian is going to be fairly well-rounded. He plays baseball, maybe even does some cross-country running. He would have no choice but to do some kind of martial arts also. While he's good at sports, he is much more into things like chess, D&D, other logic games. I think he's the kid that takes the game Risk way too seriously and has a hard time finding people his own age to play with.

I don't imagine he's crazy popular at school, but most people know who he is and have a decent opinion of him. Teachers like him-- except his history teacher, who routinely is sending emails to Becca about how Ian's questions, comments, or otherwise are disruptive in class (mostly because Ian makes way too many solid connections between places and events and knows more than the teacher). xD

Ooc I love all of that. I imagine that Becca and Roger as parents is a bit out of norm. Roger is more the home maker, he would like to imagine he is strict but it is Becca the kids dread telling when they are in trouble.

I feel like Anjya is spirited. She has not come into her confidence yet. She is social, and very intelligent, still knows more languages than any other kid she knows. I am sure Salu has insisted on her learning some kind of self defense. She is also very justice minded.

“Look, Mom, I know how excited you get, but can you and Uncle Salu… I dunno… chill out a little?” The teenage voice carried the usual exasperation with it from the passenger seat of the car, hoping that, somehow, this plea would be more effective than every plea that came before it. Ian loved his parents, and he loved his ever-devoted aunt and uncle. But, like every teenager who was looking for his independence, he often found himself lobbying for a little more space– or a little bit of a lower profile than their boisterous support of him ever provided. “Can you just– I mean– Don’t yell at the ump this time?” He asked, this plea a little more hopeful. He tried to block out what happened last time, where Salu hadn’t liked the call that was made and had yelled at the umpire… and nearly gotten thrown out of the audience.

Even with the hope in his voice, Ian fidgeted with the catcher’s glove in his hand. His bag was in the trunk, but, like always, his trusty catcher’s mitt was in his lap. Ian had a pre-game routine that started long before he got into the car to go to the field. As a player, he had to be there an hour before the game started and he always had at least one adult family member that was happy to oblige. In the car, he always fidgeted with his glove. He folded it, stretched it, massaged the leather, checked the laces, put it on, took it off. Ian was a big believer in routines and rituals, and even a slight deviation in his pre-game zen risked messing with his head. “Are Dad and the girls going to be there?” He asked, eyes stuck on his mitt.

Ian was the spot-on image of his mother, other than her height, but he had inherited much of his father’s spirit, as well as the man’s expressions. In most things in life, he was calm and patient and did not exhibit the intense characteristics of his mother. Unless, of course, he was engaged in one of his tactical games. Salu’s early teachings of chess had delivered the boy a passion and talent that had never faded away. Being a catcher on the baseball team was a demanding role, but Ian was also the captain of the chess team, head of the high school’s D&D club, and often could be found playing multiple games of Risk online with people from all around the world. During these activities was where he most resembled his mother– and could easily be mistaken for one of Salu’s children rather than Roger’s. Unfortunately for Ian, this blend of his sports abilities and intense critical thinking skills had made for an awkward start to his teenage years. He had struggled with his friend groups– neither of which, the jocks or the nerds, got along with the other– and with knowing how to prioritize his time and interests. Thankfully, by Junior year, Ian had sorted out who he was. Unfortunately for him, he had yet to figure out what colleges he was applying to or what kind of career path he wanted to take. Every year since middle school seemed to bring a new possibility, but none had stuck. Engineer, lawyer, politician, nonprofit something-or-other. None of this helped him figure out what colleges he should be applying to– despite the fact that many colleges were already scouting him for baseball.

“I hear that coach from Rutgers is coming out today,” Ian added yet again to the conversation, though he had yet to receive an answer from his mother on any of his questions. Typical Ian before an important game: lost in his head, with his thoughts left unfiltered.



“Waiiiiiit! I’m coming too!” Jothias, with a baseball in his hand and a baseball cap practically falling over his eyes, came running out of his room just as Anjya opened the door. He flew by his mother, sliding on the wood floor in his socks, only to scramble to try to get traction. He failed miserably, caught himself on the sofa with an ‘oof,’ and practically jumped into his shoes. He didn’t seem to care that the heels were crushed beneath his feet, but he did at least rectify the situation with his mother by bounding back to her and kissing her cheek before heading for the door after his sister. As much as Anjya was her mother’s daughter, Jothias was his father’s son. …And, even more important in the little boy’s eyes, he was following in his idol’s footsteps. Ian. Ian was the best as far as the ten-year old was concerned. He was good at baseball, and running, and at jiu jitsu, and he was smart– and– Well, the ands could go on forever.

Salu already had the car running, waiting for Anjya. He had put his daughter’s favorite playlist on the radio, had a pre-performance banana sitting on the passenger seat for her, and looked more than thrilled to be cheering on both of the important teenagers in his life today. Time had been more than kind to the man who felt lucky enough to be able to call himself old. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself. Even when his joints and old injuries ached in the cold, or he had a disagreement with one of his children. Even when the world was hard and mean, Salu had long considered himself the luckiest man alive just to have a family to disagree with– and age had not taken away that gratitude for what he had in life. His daughter was his baby girl, a fact that he reminded her of over and over again and promised… or threatened… would never change no matter how grown she became. His son, on the other hand, was everything to worry about in life. Fearless. With so many broken bones in his childhood from his reckless abandon, Salu worried it was only a matter of time before child protective services sought them out with questions. And his wife… his wife was his everything. When they were both pulling their hair out over their children… or Becca’s children… or Danny’s children… at least they were doing it together.

“Car leaves in fifteen seconds!” Salu shouted through the open window of the car, knowing his voice would carry to the house if anyone had opened the door to hear.

“It doesn’t matter who is coming, you will play the game as you always do. You are the brains of the play, Ian. This is just another chess match.” Becca insisted from her spot behind the wheel. If it weren’t for the lines beside her eyes and mouth, or the soft greys hidden in her blonde- or even the way she had most assuredly shrunk at least another inch she couldn’t have afforded in the last decade- Becca was almost identical to the woman who had served as Salu’s back. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a baseball cap tugged on tight, proclaiming Ian’s team instead of the one she usually wore, and her seat was pushed up comically close to the steering wheel. Roger often joked that they would need to get her phone books by the time she turned sixty, just so she could see over it.

“Keep your head on the game. Remember, player seventy two is left handed, so don’t call for a curve on him. He will hit it every time- and don’t forget twelve has a tendency to strike , so move the defense before he can get in front of it.” Becca glanced over at her son and then back forward as she drove. “Everyone will be there, your dad is picking the girls up from their gymnastics. Salu, I am sure, is driving Anjya to the game for that pep thing. What do they call it? It’s not cheer… what- oh, and player ten, remember he favors a downward swing.” She muttered, well too versed in an opposing high school varsity team.


“Jothias! Be careful!” Tellisie surged up from her place, eyes sharp on her son. Aniya was already throwing open the front door.

“He is fine! Bye Mama!” Anjya called happily right as her father’s call came. She turned and went sprinting, catching the passenger door before her brother could dare beat her to it. She hopped into the car, tossed her bag to her feet and then flashed her father a grin. “Hi Papa!”

"Dance team," Ian managed to get in an answer in between his mother's reminders about their opponents. "They've got that new pitcher they've been training," He told her, fully engaged in the mental strategies that his mother encouraged. Baseball was a chess game. Especially from behind a catcher's mask. "He throws a hell-- heck--" he grinned sheepishly at his mother, "of a fastball. And he's a lefty. His stats are off the charts. I heard they're going to put him in today." He pounded his fist into his mitt, the surefire sound of his nerves.


Josiah was only half a step behind his sister, but it was just enough that he missed out on the shotgun seat. He muttered something under his breath before he could open the door and be heard by his father, then reluctantly got into the back of the car.

"Jothias, you're coming?" Salu asked with surprise, glancing in the rear view at his son. Jothias already had his earbuds in, though, and was lost from any conversation going to occur.

Salu shook his head at the boy-- but didn't scold him. It was a longstanding rule in the car that the shotgun seat got to choose the music of the car ride, and had to participate in conversation with the driver. The back seat was allowed earbuds because of it. Salu's focus turned quickly to his daughter instead, "Little Love... what is all of this? Glitter and make up? You're not looking so little." He frowned as he was reminded again that his daughter was growing up. A teenager. How had they gotten this far? Where had the time with his baby girl disappeared?

Anjya buckled her seatbelt before she dared glance in the side mirror at the glitter and makeup her father referenced. “I am not little, Papa, I am fifteen. “ she reminded him with delight. “I am doing stunts tonight.” She looked over to him. “Do you think Ian will win?”


“He isn’t a match for you.” Becca didn’t miss a beat as she pulled into the parking lot of Ian’s high school. She turned to face her son after turning the car off. “And I promise I won’t let Uncle Salu yell at the ump.” There was an obvious gap in the promise of Becca not yelling at the ump- but it was halfway there. As if she knew he would catch on, she added with a smirk. “If you would let me apply for that assistant coach position, I wouldn’t have to yell from the stands.”

"New house rule: you're not allowed to tell me you're not little anymore," Salu smirked as he pulled out of the driveway, both children safely buckled. "When Ian's team wins, do you have a special routine?" His support of Ian and the girls matched his support of his own children, and Danny's. Their extended family had Salu's loyalty just as much as his own little unit.


Ian couldn't help but laugh as his mother brought up the assistant coach position, "Mom, I love you. And I love that you're at every game and know every kid I've ever gone up against. But we tried the coach thing, in Little League. It didn't work. It would be like Uncle Salu coaching my chess team." As it was, he and his mother team plenty of drills together. She took him to the batting cages and coached him there. Just like Salu would coach him in games of chess. But to have either of them officially as his coach? No way. "I gotta go. Open the trunk?" He asked. As Ian unbuckled his seat belt, he leaned over and kissed her cheek, then popped out of the car and ran to the trunk.

“It didn’t work because that ump didn’t know what he was talking about.” Becca reminded Ian with a smirk. She gave a sigh after half a second though and accepted the kiss. “It’s just another chess match!” She called after him while popping the trunk.

“Yeah, we have a victory performance.” Anjya agreed with a grin. “And if they win, there is an after party at Ryan Vogt’s house tonight-“ she began , looking over to her father hopefully. “The entire pep squad will be there. And Ryan’s parents.” She added quickly before he could refuse because of lack of chaperones.

Ian was a flurry of movement, grabbing his bag, checking his bats, slinging his cleats on one separately, then taking off with a hasty call back to his mother, "Love you!" He met up with another player in a uniform identical to his, and the two rushed off together to meet up with the rest of the team.


Salu lifted a brow, "And just who is Ryan Vogt?" He asked Anjya, the suspicion evident, "And who are his parents?" He added. To say that either Salu or Tellisie were protective parents would be like saying Salu had kept the details of his past a secret from his daughter. It was an understatement of a lifetime. His version of protection included getting to know her friends and their parents, always knowing where she was with an app on their cell phones, making sure she took jiu jitsu just as seriously as she had taken learning languages. He had talked to her about how to look out for herself, about staying away from substances that would impair her thought, and always being vigilant and within arms reach of her cellphone. A party with the name of a boy he didn't know was not high on his list of keeping her safe.

Anjya had practically predicted her father’s question, answering before he had even finished. “He is on the team. In Ian’s class? He is Ian’s class president. And his parents live in the Balmora Heights. I have the address. Apparently his parents have a pool and a movie theater… and I really want to go.” The one piece of information she didn’t have- she wasn’t sure if Ian intended on attending at all. It wasn’t a given that Ian would choose a hectic social gathering. So despite how much that might have helped her case, Anjya was unable to pull out that card. “My phone is fully charged and I packed my charger.” She added swiftly.

Salu didn't respond for a minute, thinking and trying to make sure his own head was on straight. He had struggled with Anjya's growing up. Loosening the reins so she could learn to be independent wasn't easy. "What would be the plan for transportation? I take you after the game, and pick you up when?" There definitely would be no strangers transporting hours daughter. "And is Ian going?"

“Emily just got her license, I thought maybe she could take me?” Anjya suggested hopefully before quickly adding. “You know Em. You know her dad. He is the cop. “ As if her father needed any reminding when Anjya swore he probably did background checks on every adult near her. Emily was the girl who had convince Anjya to try out for the pep squad. She was also in Ian’s class, but Anjya was in a couple of classes with her. Anjya visibly hesitated at the Ian question. “I… maybe?”

"Is she just got her license, she can't drive you after a certain time," Salu pointed out. "So what time would you want picked up?" Salu always seemed to ask for more information before agreeing to social gatherings for his daughter-- especially if they weren't under his own roof.

Anjya was quiet as she considered the question. “Well… the game ends at… nine… so the party is supposed to go until two am… so…?” She ventured slowly, not asking for a specific time. She would much rather negotiate once she knew her father’s limit. “The whole pep squad will be there.” She repeated this in hopes to convince her father. “If I don’t go, it is social suicide.” Typical teen dramatics- but it did feel life and death to her.

"And your social life will rise from the ashes like a Phoenix," Salu's response was quick but calm. He would not fall into the idea that this was the end-all of situations for his teenage daughter. "Two in the morning is out," he stated very simply. "I'll talk to your aunt and see if Ian is going, or if she knows the Vogt family. And I'll call your mother, too. I'll let you know after the game." He pulled into the parking lot, purposely parking near Becca's car when he spotted it. "Go break a leg, Little Love," he smiled at her as he turned the ignition off.

Anjya groaned and leaned her head back against the seat. How could her father not see how important this could be. Her nose wrinkled at the mention of Ian again. “Does it swing on Ian’s attendance? Papa, Ian doesn’t like parties like that.” She protested, not yet making a move to leave. A couple of cheerleaders passed the truck, giggling, followed by two of Anjya’s squad members. She grabbed her bag at this and unbuckled, before turning to her father. “Love you,” she leaned over and gave him a hug, despite his hesitance and non-promising response to the party. “Don’t get in a fight with the ump or coach!” She added as she hopped out of the car before chasing after the girls. She had just reached them when Becca texted Salu.

‘Row A, all ours. Roger and girls already here.’ Along with a photo of the twins and her youngest currently sat with Roger at the end of the row.

Salu smiled as his daughter went to join the girls, watching her with his eagle eyes to ensure she got where she was going before he allowed himself to be distracted by the text. He quickly sent back a message to announce he was here, then text Tellisie. 'Vogt? Know them?" Simple and to the point. He turned to the backseat to catch Jothias' attention.

The boy grinned and ripped his earbuds out, "Can I go ahead?" He asked, only jumping out of the car and racing ahead when his father gave him a nod.
Salu grabbed a bottle of water and headed for the bleachers where he and Becca would pretend they were going to sit, while really they were going to do a whole lot of their version of supporting their kids.

When Salu got to the bleachers, he greeted Becca's family with a wave, shaking his head when he realized that Jothias was already there and watching the pre-game workout like his life depended on it.

“What is this about the outfielder? Vogt? “ Becca greeted Salu , her eyes sharp on the field, her arms already crossed as if she was fit to be tied. Roger sent Salu a far more relaxed wave. The twins, Violet and Iris, were currently focused on their task of pouring over a magazine, while their little sister, Charlotte, stood behind her father, playing with his hair like he was in a beauty shop and not the bleachers of a high school baseball field. Down at the sidelines Anjya had already joined her fellow squad mates and was now shedding her sweater to reveal her full uniform. The girls all seemed to be chattering, though Anjya glanced to the team far more often than the rest of them.

"He's apparently having a party tonight. Anjya wants to--" Salu had greeted both the twins by messing up their hair, but now stopped mid-wave to Charlotte as his eyes shifted to the field. He stood up straight, eyes narrowing, and turned to fully face the field now. His fatherly eyes were now riveted on his daughter. "What is she wearing?" He demanded in a mutter. Crop tops weren't a thing in his house! "The hell is the school running with uniforms like that?!"

Becca followed Salu’s gaze sharply the moment his back went straight- but finding no true threat, and then the reasoning for his distress coming out- Becca couldn’t help but hide a twitch of her lips. “It is the same uniform from last year, and the year before that.” She informed Salu, eying Anjya for half a second before glancing at her friend. “Anjya wants to attend a party at the sixteen year old, class president, star outfielder’s house? She certainly is growing up.” She nudged Salu lightly to keep him grounded.

"Mm-" Salu's disapproval was evident. "I don't like this one bit." He nodded towards his daughter yet again as he caught her looking off towards the team. "She's distracted. And she claims this party doesn't end until two. I already told her that two isn't happening. What do you know about the kid? Ian said anything about him or his parents?"

“I know that he is competing with Ian for scholarships, but he isn’t going to win.” Becca watched Anjya for a moment before she shrugged. “Tell Ian to go with her. He should go anyhow.” They both knew Ian would listen to Salu, but argue with Becca.

“Larry Vogt is that big shot lawyer who got that kid off those murder charges.” Roger offered up from his spot.

“Dad! Stop moving!” Charlotte protested. Roger smirked.

“The Peterson kid?” Becca turned to her husband looking mildly curious. “Got to hate those criminal defense attorneys.” She made a face and looked back to the field. Anjya was currently waving to get Ian’s attention but after a moment turned back to her squad. “Tell Ian to go.” She reiterated now.

"Peterson?" Salu glanced back when Becca did. "He was guilty. The whole world knew it." He already didn't like the family. His professional bias would easily get in his way where that was concerned. "I'll send Ian... What time sounds good? Ten-thirty? Eleven?" He still would have to talk to Tellisie and make sure they were on the same page.

“You can’t make the kids the social pariahs by sending them home two or three hours early.” Roger said patiently from his spot. “Midnight. They are sixteen.”

“Anita is fifteen. And drunks are on the road on Friday nights.” Becca seemed to be on Salu’s side on this. Roger shook his head.

“Not at midnight. Two am. Maybe three, when the bars close.” Roger reasoned. Becca gave half a shrug.

“I guess midnight is fine if they are together.” She agreed now, but glanced to Salu. “We have to loosen the reigns at some point.”