Interagir avec: personnel au service, Samantha ()

Une grosse base battait à travers la voiture louée, son dur rock'n'roll se sent tout à fait en contradiction avec la nature élégante et lisse du véhicule. Une chanson comme celle-ci devrait vraiment être écoutée dans un vieux banger éclaboussant avec des sièges tachés de café et une douzaine d'amis entassés et tous chantant mal, pas seul dans une Porsche toute neuve, louée et conduite pour la première fois aujourd'hui. Cela a été complètement perdu sur le conducteur cependant, qui a chanté avec joie les mots familiers de la chanson alors qu'il regardait à travers les flocons de neige flottants, à la recherche d'un repère familier ou d'un panneau d'affichage.
Bizarre sanglant étant de retour ici, Arthur réfléchit alors qu'il battait ses doigts sur la roue et bourdonnait un couple particulièrement frappant de barres instrumentales. Cela fait plus de dix ans, peut-être plus de quinze ans, depuis qu'il a visité la retraite d'hiver familiale. Il n'y avait pas beaucoup de bonnes raisons pour ça, maintenant il y a pensé, il avait juste arrêté de visiter. Pas de tempête ou de cessation de tout contact avec son parent ou quelque chose d'aussi dramatique. Pas avec un bang, mais avec un whimper...
Le dernier coup de marteau de la chanson, associé à l'observation d'un panneau lointain, a branlé Arthur de sa rêverie. Avec une facilité pratique, il ralentit la voiture et parcourt la fenêtre enneigée du siège passager vide vers le panneau. Ah, c'est ça! Succès! Il n'aurait pas dû être si difficile de trouver la résidence familiale, pas avec le GPS, une connaissance de la région et comment Lee avait bien entretenu la zone, mais Arthur n'avait pas été porté avec une compétence d'orientation. Plutôt l'inverse, en fait.
Le reste du trajet n'a pris que quelques instants, mais la vague d'anxiété qui avait été étrangement absente de son esprit est revenue et a balayé Arthur. C'était comme marcher jusqu'au bureau de son père et de sa mère, avec une fiche de rendement dans la main, sachant que cela leur dirait qu'il n'avait pas travaillé aussi dur sur son travail qu'il l'avait fait pour faire rire ses camarades de classe. Encore. C'est seulement maintenant que je peux expliquer pourquoi je n'ai pas amené Melissa et Abbi ou pourquoi je suis encore un producteur et pas un homme d'affaires, des choses plus difficiles à expliquer.
Secouant la tête, Arthur a balancé la roue et s'est tiré devant les portes principales. Avant qu'il ne sorte de la voiture pour remettre les clés à un domestique voisin, il s'est rendu coupable d'avoir emparé les enveloppes de Wether's Originals et Best of Queen CD dans la boîte à gants. Arthur n'était pas plus adapté à cette voiture que la chanson qu'il avait muté hâtivement à l'arrivée et avait essayé de noyer son léger inconfort avec cuir élégant et chrome avec des bonbons et Freddie Mercury. Il n'était pas sûr de la position de son père sur ce dernier et seulement pour clarifier sa position sur le premier, cependant, il préférerait ne pas la faire connaître.
En train de traîner sa valise derrière lui, Arthur grimpa les marches et entra à l'intérieur. L'anxiété griffait encore à l'arrière de son esprit, mais maintenant elle était noyée par la nostalgie. J'ai couru dans ce couloir quand Sam me pourchassait... et j'ai poursuivi Emile en portant un chapeau de santa. Avec un bâillon, il pensait à Abbi. J'aurais pu l'amener, ça aurait pu être bien de lui jeter un oeil sur tout le clan à la fois... Mais avec un redressement peu caractéristique de sa colonne vertébrale, Arthur marcha et monta les escaliers.
Il avait lutté avec l'idée de l'amener beaucoup avant de partir. D'une part, la lettre avait clairement indiqué que c'était l'occasion de se réunir, d'être à nouveau une famille ou, peut-être, pour la première fois. Arthur voulait le croire avec presque tout son être. Mais d'un autre côté, il se rappelait à quel point sa mère était mal à l'aise avec sa première petite-fille et combien peu de ses frères et sœurs avaient jamais manifesté beaucoup d'intérêt pour sa famille, sans parler du peu qu'il y avait à faire pour une jeune fille dans cet endroit.
Non, je ferais mieux de le faire seul. C'est peut-être une Carrington, mais c'est seulement parce que même Melissa ne peut pas lutter contre la génétique. Sa chambre était familière, mais pas d'une manière aussi réconfortante. Il avait déjà dormi ici et était resté éveillé pendant des heures avec Sam, mais aussi s'il avait été envoyé ici sans dîner par sa mère après avoir livré une trop grosse blague à un repas du Nouvel An. C'était la première et dernière fois qu'il avait été puni comme ça, mais le regard d'un dégoût total sur son visage à ses antiques n'avait jamais vraiment disparu de son esprit.
Secouant la tête, il laissa tomber sa valise sur le lit et regarda la bibliothèque sans tache mais clairement intacte. Il y avait une foule de livres d'âge d'or Fantasy assis aux côtés de quelques classiques Sci-Fi des années 80, le genre de livres Lee l'avait acheté coupablement et sa mère avait reniflé à chaque fois qu'elle les voyait. Ou, plus mémorablement, c'était les livres que Sam appelait "la raison pour laquelle tu es si hétéro". Même la pensée de son bon gréement naturel a mis un sourire sur le visage d'Arthur alors qu'il a couru un doigt sur les épines mouillées.
Et sur le sujet de Sam... Arthur a pensé, sortir de sa propre chambre et errer dans le hall. Il ne serait pas surpris si Sam n'était pas encore là, elle était souvent modelement en retard, mais il préférerait affronter les hôtes avec une certaine compagnie. Alors il marcha vers sa vieille chambre (en voyant que le Keep ou Die! les signes avaient été enlevés à un moment donné), doucement frappés et parlés avec la lévité caractéristique.
"J'espère qu'il n'y a pas d'artistes dans cette maison, j'ai eu à peu près autant de ces layabouts sans valeur que je peux prendre."
N A M E
Arthur James Carrington, called Arty by his wife and James by his father.
A G E
39
G E N D E R
Male
O C C U P A T I O N
Television Producer
S E X U A L I T Y
Heterosexual, with a few brief experiments in his younger days.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S
Happily married with a young daughter.
F A M I L Y M E M B E R S
Melissa Mabson, wife
Being from a very different background and having a subtly but significantly different outlook on life, one might not expect Melissa and Arthur to be such a good match. But despite his lack of direction being anathema to her can-do attitude, they've been lost in each other since they first met. Melissa was born into rather different circumstances than her good husband, less wealth and more work as she says, so she wasn't afforded the luxury of simply wandering through life. She studied hard to get her qualifications, worked hard all the way through art school and now ceaselessly works on new projects for her gallery. Her art reflects her, in many ways, as it is both painstakingly put together, well considered and consequential but also irrepressibly cheerful. It was likely her embodiment of Arthur's favourite state combined with her Carrington-esque determination that drew him to her, though who can say what she saw in him? Potential, perhaps?
Abigail Carrington-Mabson, daughter
The light of her father's life, young Abigail has consistently made him more of man for all of her eight years. Her birth woke something that no one, perhaps accepting his wife, knew was there and their bond has only grown stronger. The carefree, fun loving element of Arthur's personality makes him any child's dream father (and a very different one to Arthur's own) but he is determined to make sure Abbi inherits her mother's drive, determination and cheerful self motivation. In herself, Abbi is precocious, curious and as playful as her father. She's a little afraid of Grandmother, something in her cold stare and pursed lips, but has always loved her Grandfather and oldest Aunty.
A P P E A R A N C E
Slightly above average height, with floppy hair, a casual dress sense and rarely absent grin, Arthur rarely looks the part of a Carrington heir. He likes to smile and therefore smiles a lot, evident in the smile lines worn into his face. He likes to wear comfortable clothes and so only grumpily dons a suit when his father glares fiercely enough to burn a hole in the furniture, preferring a fleece or a hoodie instead. And his hair... he's probably put more time, thought and effort into his hair than his entire business career. It's bouncy, soft and incredibly expressive.



P E R S O N A L I T Y
The Carrington name is synonymous with many things; wealth, success, innovation. The one thing that has never been overly associated with the family is levity, something that has chafed with Arthur since he was a very young boy. Unlike his parents and even many of his siblings, Arthur has no drive to succeed in the business world, no hunger to dominate the market or take over other corporations. If it were simply that his drive lay else where, perhaps in a respectable art or worthy scholarly pursuit, he would have been accepted by his parents as second rate but still wholly acceptable.
Unfortunately, all Arthur has ever really wanted to do is have fun, make a few people laugh and not think too hard about anything. It's not that his objectives are elsewhere, they simply don't exist. And while the immense family fortunes have allowed him bounce along on good intentions and charm, for the most part, it has not endeared him much to his siblings (apart from a few of the younger ones) and even less so to his parents.
But his lack of drive has caused to fail at even being a real black sheep. If he resented his parents with the white hot fury of some children, perhaps he would've made a terrible specatcle of himself, publicly badmouthing them or getting caught in compromising positions by the press. Instead, the worst he's ever managed is a few pictures of him looking rather tipsy and a public reputation of being a bit of an idiot.
To be fair, he isn't stupid. He simply lacks that stiff backbone and scowling determination of the rest of the family, that ability to see a star in the sky and say 'I won't stop until that's mine'. He prefers to bum around, have a few laughs and take it easy. Of course, there's no avenue of success that can be reached with that method, no matter the field, so Arthur hasn't got much to show for his 39 years of life. He consciously resents his parents for this, blaming them for not supporting him enough in his glitzy, show-biz ambitions but in truth, he never tried hard enough, never risked enough or wanted it enough. Late at night or in the wee hours of the morning, he knows this.
In recent years, however, something has finally stirred a sense of responsibility inside Arthur, though still not the sort his father probably wishes he felt. With the beginning of his relationship with his wife, Arthur first feel pangs of guilt about his lacklustre ambitions and achievements but it was the birth of Abigail, his daughter, that radically altered his person. His mixed relationship with his own parents has left him determined that his child will have none of that, no uncertainty and uneasy talks. He showers her with love, devotion and attention but also with the sole focus of his person, doing his utmost to teach her to be the best of him and Melissa. He's never worked so hard on anything in his life and it's starting to show in the rest of his life, both positively and otherwise.
L I K E S
↗ A good beer, a hot cup of tea, something nice to drink.
↗ Playing pretend, though mostly with his daughter.
↗ Relaxing, not stressing and taking time to watch the world go by.
↗ Chuckling, laughing, and making others do so too.
D I S L I K E S
↙ Stress and pressure, both from within and without.
↙ Dressing up and making pretty, what a waste of time.
↙ Authority figures, though they do have their uses.
↙ People touching his hair.



H I S T O R Y
Being only the second of the many Carrington children, Arthur had many expectations placed upon his tiny infant shoulders right from the start. Be this, do that, work harder. From his parents to his tutors, everyone had a plan for him, except him. All he wanted to do was be a child, to play with his toys and chuckle with his friends, those that were deemed acceptable for Lee Carrington's first born son. His father never explicitly demanded anything from him or was needlessly cruel, he was simply so distant and yet also so silently demanding that Arthur never knew exactly what he wanted, only that he couldn't give it to him. Things were little better with his mother, her praises being so few and far between that Arthur stopped seeking them.
So somewhere along the way, he dropped that essential part of the Carrington metnality, drive. He didn't go to a prestigious school, didn't work as hard as he could to improve the family fortunes or plan one day to take over the business. Instead, he partied and drank his way through University (causing a few minor scandals when photographed on all night benders, though nothing particularly juicy) making many friends and no enemies, not to mention even fewer commendations. When he finished his degree, business studies and media relations, he decided to make his way into the world of television. Of course, that's not too hard when your family owns several major stations and a word from your father opens all the doors and most of the windows too.
Within a few years, Arthur was heading up one of the more prestigious channels under the family banner, a comedy station that provided daily doses of satire, standup and news-pieces. It was simultaneously thrilling and disillusioning for Arthur, both showing him a world he desperately wanted to join and stripping away his belief he could easily make it if only it weren't for his parents. In reality, he saw that being a comedian would be just as much work as anything else, perhaps more so, and he wouldn't be able to just stroll through it even without the disapproving glare of his parents.
So for some years, Arthur maintained a position of mostly contented disinterest, producing programs, giving new names their big starts and slowly growing the station. This was all shook up when he first met Melissa Mabson at a gallery opening he was attending with his older sister. At first it was just her easy charm and ready laugh that enchanted him but when they started to get to know each other properly, he realised it was more than that. Melissa had everything he valued about himself, as well as everything his parents wished he had. He was, and still is, in awe of her and worked hard to try to make her see him in a similar light. In all likelihood, she saw him as who he was better than he ever did and loved him for it.
They were happy for a few years and Arthur did slowly start to become more and more active in different areas of his life, from business to his parental relationships, but then came a second bombshell in the form of Abigail, their daughter. Her birth finally hammered home a message into Arthur's brain that nothing thus far in his life had come close to doing. It was this; you have both power and responsibility. In his daughter's tiny frame, he saw the potential for a whole new person and saw too that he would be instrumental in defining who she would be.
In the years to come, Abigail would become both his greatest delight and most solemn burden. Different parts of his life benefitted or suffered from the immensity of his focus on her upbringing. For example, Arthur finally felt a deep understanding of the parents he'd never properly empathised with, grasping the struggles of their parenthood for the first time. Many of his fellow producers and colleagues have noticed his lack of attention in recent meetings, reporting that his mind always seems to be somewhere else. Who knows what the future may hold for Arthur and his golden child? If he has his way, she will have her mother's determination and his family's resources at her disposal right from the start. Will she take the world by storm or choose a simpler, more peaceful life? Whatever the case, she will remain the most important part of her father's world.
M I S C E L L A N E O U S I N F O
Arthur had a brief Goth phase. It wasn't pretty. Well, it was, because he is, but it didn't work particularly well.

Cassiopeia Carrington
"I send her a card every mother's day and another on her birthday. But that's about it, really."
You know, I think there's a fundamental difference between how her and dad looked at me. When dad scowled at some low test results or harrumphed at a corny joke (we never called them dad jokes in our family) I felt like he had a vision for what he wanted me to be, but that he wouldn't tell me what it was. But with mum... I'm not sure if she even thought of me all that often. For her, it was all Sam, all the time.
Which, I suppose, makes sense. After all, there's a saying about it, isn't there? 'your son's your son until he takes a wife but your daughter's your daughter for the whole of your life. She needed Sam to be the daughter she wanted, not the one she was. I was always second as far as she went and I've made my peace with that.
Abbi likes dad better anyway.
Lee Carrington
"Well, you know, he's my father, so I've always respected him. He wasn't the most supportive of parents, I suppose, but I always had a roof over my head and clothes on my back. It could've been a lot worse."
Who am I kidding, dad used to look at me like I was an imbecile and scowl whenever I cracked a joke. He didn't hate me, I don't think, just didn't understand me or particularly want to. As unhelpful as he was when I raised the idea of working in television, I know he would've put me under house arrest if I'd gone through with... well, it could've been worse but only if I'd pushed him any further.
And I really don't understand it. I mean, I'm a father now, I understand the pressures of having someone look up to you, of knowing you're going to be the one to prepare them for the world, that feeling of love and responsibility that fills you up until you're about to burst. But it makes me want to spend more time with her, give her more options, not less. I can't even imagine not talking to her everyday or scowling when I could smile.
Maybe he never felt like that?
Sam Carrington
"Sam's always been my brave, bold badass of an older sister. Whatever I didn't have the courage to do, she's already done so much it's no longer cool. And, yes, sometimes she scares me but she's still my hero."
I know that mum always gave more of a damn about her while we were growing up but somehow that never mattered between me and Sam. We always got along well, despite our wildly different personalities. She's been the cool one that lead our little group, the rebellious first born right from the start, blazing a trail for me to follow. But because I didn't, at least not like she did, I've always worried she's disappointed in me.
Still, we can always make each other laugh, no matter the situation, and she introduced me to my wife. After that, after owing her that much, I feel so guilty that I didn't do enough to help her during her struggles. I mean, she wouldn't have accepted help, she's got the family stubbornness right enough, but I could've done something, made her accept it.
Maybe she's not the first child mum and dad wanted, but she's the perfect older sister.
Elaine Carrington
"Of all my siblings, I think I know Elaine the least. And I'm more than a little guilty about that."
Obviously, we're at opposite ends of the sibling chain and I doubt she even remembers when we lived under the same roof. I've seen her at the odd family event and tried to be friendly but she's got her own stuff going on. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of dad and that's certainly not much of an incentive for me to get to know her better...
I suppose it might be good for him to have a child to aspires to be like him, one that he can really connect with, but it's probably a bit late for him to really connect with a child. I get the feeling he gave up somewhere after me and Gabriel didn't really live up. Still, maybe Elaine is the hope of the Carrington dynasty. Maybe one day soon she'll be head of the family firm, looking down on us little people.
Better her than me.
Emile Carrington
"Something went right between me and Emile that never really did between me and Elaine, even though there's just a few years difference between them in age."
Maybe it's that Emile always acted glad to see me when I dropped into the family home in his childhood? Though I suppose Elaine was a little too young. Anyhow, I used to take Emile on picnics and to the cinema when he was young, before Abbi was born. We'd just mess about, get ice-cream, feed the ducks and generally bum around until it was time for him to go back to the nest. I always got the feeling he liked being with me because the things we did would never be done with dad.
Having said that, there was a moment when I thought Emile had grown out of having fun with me. It was around when Abbi was born when he must have been... 11? Well, he stopped looking so happy when we came a-calling and never tried to hold Abbi in the early days. Things have changed in the last five or so years though, now he's my go to babysitter and Abbi is always talking about what her and Uncle Emmi are going to do next time me and Melissa go away.
He'll make a great parent, one day.
Gabriel Carrington
"He was always quiet and reserved, like there was stuff going on inside of him he'd rather keep away from us. Little did we know, I suppose..."
When Gabriel left, no one really knew what to think or feel. I wasn't living at home so I was probably less affected but I was there for his big moment, leaving the house with his earthly possession slung over his shoulders. Well, not literally but the same idea. It wasn't explosive, he didn't storm out after slapping someone in the face. But he did give us a little view into what he thought of us, each and every one.
It was a bit of a wound for me, as I always thought we had an understanding or something. I didn't realise he was seething with dislike behind my back, though I suppose I knew we were never as close as him and Sam. Gabriel's exit from the family pod was like being slapped by a quiet puppy, all the worse for being unexpected. And we haven't talked since. Which, obviously, I regret. He was the first younger sibling I ever had and I regret not being closer to him. Still, there's time yet.
After all, he's not going to get shot down twice.
Indiana Carrington
"Poor old Indie. I've tried to be close to her, I really have, but there's always been a distance between us."
I think it might be because she's Carrington, through and through. She wanted to be an artists, to play her music and have people listen to it, so she did. She wanted to be her own person, free of alternatively overbearing and absent, so she did. Whereas I... well, I think we all know I've never taken life by the throat like that. I get the feeling she doesn't like or doesn't understand that about me, it's probably why we're not very close.
And I admire her, I really do, she's like a young Sam. Only I know, probably better than most, how hard life was for Sam for so long and I don't want that for Indie. So I've done my best to help her, give her a retreat and support her in whatever way she'll let me. But like I said, she's a Carrington through and through, just like her father, mother and oldest sister.
Too stubborn by half.
Nathaniel Carrington
"Nate was the first sibling I really felt like a big brother to. Gabriel, Mathias, Charles, we never really connected. But me and Shaggy? Always got along."
Maybe it was the right age gap or the right timing or something but there was never the animosity I had with Gabriel or the lack of connection between me and Mathias. With Nate I could crack a few jokes, have a few laughs and be myself. Admittedly, things changed when he got full into the slam poet, starving artist, anti-system man he is today (I think being a producer is the definition of serving The Man) but we still hang out when we can. And he gets on with Abigail so well.
I'd never say he's my favourite sibling but he's certainly the easiest one to talk to and one of the ones I've spent most time with. And in a way, I think he helped prepare me for being a parent. Some of the things we did together, I know I'll never do with Abbi. Buying him booze and taking him to parties, not exactly father/daughter bonding. But listening to his first (terrible) poems and giving him whatever encouragement I could?
That's something I'll be doing again.
Esther Carrington
"And people call me the family joker... I kid, Esi is clever and creative and occasionally even kind. At least, she is when she isn't stoned."
Ah, she's a good kid, she really is. Making something her self, performing what she likes and making a living with her art. I see some of my own mad pursuit of freedom through the route of parties and... well, partners, shall we say, but I don't think I ever had the courage (or the cowardice?) to follow it has fully as she has. There's been more than one time where I've talked to her and she's been so out of it she doesn't even remember seeing me the next day.
Still, that's not all there is to her. Esi is always watching and listening, even when she's probably trying to smell colours. There's a calculated nature to her conversation, it's probably a part of what makes her charming. And if I knew her better, I'd likely have a better idea of what it is she's watching for, what it is she's calculating. But at the very least, I can say that she's a joke with a subtle subtext, unlike me.
I'm all punchline.
Mathias Carrington
"I have a lot of siblings, that's no secret. And I don't like them all and some I find it hard to love. But Mathias... There's nothing between us."
I don't hate him, I don't love him, I nothing him. As kids, we didn't talk or play together. He never asked my advice and I never took an interest in what he was doing. It's strange, really, because even with Gabriel, I tried to be his brother in the beginning. But with Mathias, there was never really anything. He never laughed at my jokes and I was never interested in his achievements. So when I left home, we simply stopped bothering to talk to each other, think about each other or even to have opinions about each other.
Except... I actually resent him for being the one sibling who doesn't move me one way or another, nowadays. It's silly, I dislike him because I don't dislike him. So at any family event or social function where I hear his dulcet tones, I just walk the other way.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Charles Carrington
"I sometimes feel like a failure as a brother when I think about Gabriel, Mathias and then Charles all in a row. Three brothers and not one of them my friend."
And then I think about how dad must feel. Well, that's probably a bit harsh, Charles is certainly no Gabriel. And though I've had little more contact with him than I first had with Mathias, I feel there's more of a barrier between us than a complete lack of connection. Charles has never felt at home in the company of others, or at least others of the same last name, and that stopped us from being the fast friends we could've been.
I've seen some of his art, Sam or Melissa will drag me to one of his shows every now and then, so I know there was always something interesting cooking behind his eyes. Maybe he couldn't get it out in words so he found another medium? Whatever the case, and even though we're not close, I wish Charles all the best and hope one day that I'll be able to help him like a big brother should. Being a Carrington and an artist is hard, just ask Sam, so he'll probably need it.
I wonder if he'll be able to ask for it though?