[a/n]: Bronze Age kicks off in the new year, with new leads and darker characters. this is world building, an adios to piper and finn, and also me trying to see how dark i can get. some trigger warnings for this one, guys, so if you get squeamish at character death (yes, more of it), excess gore, blood, abuse and very crude language, then this one isn't the one. if i have to add more warnings, then i'll be sure to do so as we go along. i hope you guys enjoy this the same way you enjoyed guts and glory.
ACT I: CURTAIN RISE
CHAPTER ONE: A MOMENT OF SILENCE
April 20th
War isn't easy.
As Eric takes great delight in reminding Piper of this very simple fact—three simple words in that particular tone she doesn't care for, followed by three hundred more filled with quotes from other men in history who embarked on great ordeals leading to either triumph or their untimely death. His favourite one, dear sweet Eric whom has recently welcomed a great-granddaughter into this pit of a world—is from Churchill himself, recited so many times Piper knows it herself, verbatim.
"Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. Yes, yes," Piper sighs, placing her cup of tea back down the coaster, "I know this already Eric. I have a very busy day today—so if you could please keep the nagging to a minimum and save it for your grandchildren."
Eric's face tightens at this—of course it does, it's Eric, and in the last forty years he's become quite insufferable if he doesn't get his way, roughly the same time his eldest decided to leave home—resolutely turning to face out to the window, looking down at the grounds where Stewart—bless him—is doing a delightful job at keeping the children in line. "I don't nag," he mutters petulantly, "I advise. Which would work if you actually listened to me for once. I warned you that Smith is nothing more than a bottom feeder yet you still gave him public backing. The man is bloody insufferable."
Piper tuts at him, 64 years as Queen and Eric still treats her as he did at the beginning. Nothing has changed here, this is a constant in a world where everything is different. "Smith's stupid," she allows, choosing to ignore Eric's mumblings of and a complete twat and continue on with her train of thought, "but he makes smart business decisions. I did tell you that him being tight with his money would prove useful. His sons are quite the lookers, too."
"Ash and Richie?" Face pulled, Eric huffs again. "They're hardly any better. Nikol tells me all sorts of what they get up to."
"I'm sure Nikol does much of the same. I could care less if the twins do engage in threesomes together—they're good at what they do."
"They don't do anything!" Eric splutters, arthritis meaning nothing when it comes to throwing his arms out in his fit of something. "Another pair of socialites with more money than sense."
"Oh, honey," Piper simpers, smiling into her tea, "you have no idea."
***
July 14th
The Smith twins are nothing alike.
They may look the same, but that is where all similarities end. Paul Smith had spent a third of all of his meetings with Piper boasting to the high hills of how proud he was of his boys—his twenty-two year old twin boys he had raised singlehandedly after murdering their mother, though that indiscretion is kept zipped up tight—and Piper is remarkably unimpressed with them within the hour.
YOU ARE READING
Bronze Age
ChickLitYou've got to have guts to have glory, they say, but glory means nothing for Ophelia during the Bronze Age.