A Day in the Life of Charles Kirkland
From the doorway, it was difficult to recognise the large lump in the middle of the bed, which was one Charles Kirkland. The chilly weather of the winter mornings often meant he woke with his body curled up slightly, avoiding having his toes accidentally being exposed to the cool air. A brief and low groan, with the sounds of movement as the micronation rolled on to his other side was all that would be heard until the alarm sounded. By now, however, he was so wrapped up in his blankets all that could be seen was his trademark strands of hair that seemed to have a mind all of their own. Unlike the rest of his family, Charles had been blessed with blond hair, similar to that of one Arthur Kirkland, although he swears no ties to the older nation.
Then came the low beep at a volume that, even if Charles had been in the deepest stage of sleep, he could not have ignored. Pushing the blankets down, he let out a sigh. Almost instantly, however, the sudden cold on his skin made him regret this action, pulling the blankets back up to his chin. Although he had taken the initiative to wear winter pyjamas, the cold seemed to go straight through the material to his skin. Keeping the blankets wrapped tightly around his body, fending off the cold, he got up and went to the bathroom. At first glance, Charles almost did not recognise himself. His usually neatly styled hair was sticking up whichever way it wanted to. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he began the long process to prepare himself for the day.
By nine, Charles was all dressed with the exception of his ceremonial cloak, one of lovely purple with a gold trim. A large crest decorated the right breast, meaning there was no way to mistake who he was and where he was from. But before that, Charles stood before the mirror, securing the purple and gold sash over his chest. Turning to the side, he gave a satisfied nod to his reflection. Then came the cloak, and finally his livery collar of brilliant gold colour. Taking one step back, he admired his reflection, turning from side to side to get the full effect of his appearance. Some would call him a narcissist, but Charles called it 'taking pride in his appearance'. In the end, however, they were much the same.
By ten, he was wandering about the principality he called home. The weather was mild, so tourists were scarce and far between, yet there were always things to be done. He longed for spring, when the flowers were bountiful, although he fondly believed Hutt River was lovely year-round. With a content sigh, Charles returned to his residence, but quickly halted at the sight of a familiar side-ponytail. There was one person he knew that always wore her hair like that, even though it had gone out of style years ago. Do not ask how he knows, he just does. Stopping in his tracks, Charles was partially tempted to turn and walk away, pretending not to have seen her. Yet good manners, and the fact he would likely get an earful for ignoring his sister from one Isaac, he went ahead. While he was contemplating, the young teenage girl spun around, eyes wide and eager. The second she saw him, Sierra's mouth tugged into a wide smile. This visit was either going to be some lovely time with his sister, or some time that he would get frustrated with the younger micronation for coming all this way. Putting on a smile, Charles approached his sister, making sure to stand up tall to highlight their height differences.
"Sierra", he replied, trying to hide the irritation at her sudden arrival. Clasping her hands behind her back, Sierra was acting very much the sweet younger sister, although that was usually the sign that trouble was brewing. "It's nice of you to have travelled all this way to see me". There was something about that smile that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. She had done something. "Okay, what did you do?" Almost instantly, like every other time before, came the protests of 'no, I didn't do anything!'and 'I've been standing outside the whole time I swear'. Well, that was sure to put him at ease. Not. "Really, Sierra?"
"I didn't do anything at all", Sierra said sweetly, looping her arm with his. "Don't you trust me?" He was very much inclined to reply with no, but instead gave a weak smile. Oh, he was not looking forward to whatever she had planned for him. Taking his silence as 'of course I trust you', Sierra smiled more warmly, leading the way away from his house. Whatever she had done was not intended to be seen right now, which made Charles curious as to what she had actually done while he was gone. By now it was midday, lunchtime, and Sierra was quite eager to go and get something to eat. Especially from somewhere that would take them a while to get there and back. Alarm bells were ringing, but the girl was very much insistent that they should. "It's been a long time since I spent any time with you!" Reluctantly, the teen gave in, and before long they were driving from the Principality.
The time with his sister was, admittedly, very much enjoyable. Although the fear of what was waiting for him at home kept Charles from fully enjoying the day, as they poked in to various shops. In the end, they bought hot chips to share in the park, even though the weather got too mild so they ended up eating indoors. Sierra did not try to cause any arguments or fights, so they ended up having quite wonderful conversations about anything and everything, although even when asked she remained tight lipped as to what was waiting back in Hutt River. The drive home was also lovely, Charles, albeit reluctantly, allowing his younger sister to change the radio station to something she enjoyed, rather than his own preference for classical. His gaze turned from the road to watch as she hummed, tapping her feet in time to the beat of the songs. He wanted to thank her for the day, but could not find the words to say, giving a soft smile instead.
By the time they returned to the principality, it was late afternoon. Leaving his Rolls-Royce secured, he followed the very eager Sierra back to his private residence, the feeling of unease returning. Entering through the front door, Charles was surprised by how normal everything seemed, so he went about subtly searching through the house. "Try your room", Sierra suggested, smiling wide. Frowning slightly, Charles made a beeline for his bedroom. Opening his door, he expected chaos to be inside. But instead there was a wrapped package with a neat pink bow, the same colour as his sister's flower. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he carefully unwrapped the very flat package, the paper falling away to reveal a lovely painting on canvas of their family. Isaac, Sierra and himself. It was a lovely picture, and so very unexpected that he felt the tears prickle in his eyes. From the doorway, Sierra watched him with a smile. "Sorry it was so late Charlie. I wanted it to be right before I gave it to you". It had taken several attempts, and all different subjects before she settled on one. And by the time it was done it was well past his birthday. "Happy belated birthday".
The names Charlie/Charles and Sierra are used by two lovely roleplayers on Tumblr, and Isaac is my own name for Australia.