Chapter Text
Dearest Journal.
Father and I said goodbye to Miles Edgeworth today. He is not shipping out of the country yet, and I have been expecting this day since the letter from the barracks last week. However it was still… more difficult than I had anticipated. The platform was overcrowded with people saying goodbye to soldiers, there were far too many fools giving goodbye kisses. Do they not know that other people need to use the train station? I would have been more comfortable lying down on the tracks.
Father dismissed him with a list of instructions that I was not allowed to see. He wore his uniform just to see Miles Edgeworth off, but I do not think little brother appreciated this. If father ever wore his uniform for a special occasion of mine, I would be honoured. He kept looking away from the medals on father’s chest. They saluted each other in farewell, and then father left us to speak with a senior officer at the other end of the platform.
“So you’re the only one not in uniform now.” How DARE Miles Edgeworth say that to me? As if he is superior to me because he is wearing some foolishly thrown together mess of fabric. I gave him my best glare and he began to mutter apologies, claiming he had not meant it in mockery. Ha.
With father at a distance and little brother about to leave, I decided it was safe to share my plans with him. As outlined four pages back in this diary. I told him, as I told you Journal, that I will soon be in a uniform of my own. The Women’s Auxiliary Air Force is accepting recruits, and I intend to sign up as soon as possible. For a second little brother looked like he might panic. He placed one hand on my shoulder and began to talk about – you will not believe this Journal – casualty rates of the RAF. I KNEW he was worrying about such things! Still, nothing brings me more joy than to correct him. I will assist from behind the scenes.
“You know you don’t have to just to make him proud of you.” Miles Edgeworth seemed very serious as he looked between me and father.
He thinks I am that selfish? This is not about father, this is about contributing my significant talents to a nation in need! I am only just old enough to join them. Besides, what if I do want to make father proud of me? What is so wrong with that, Journal? It is no business this fool needs to be involved in!
Before I could correct him however, a whistle broke through the air and it was time to part. Miles Edgeworth’s face became tight, he asked me to write to him with an update on my plans. Of course I am only too happy to have somebody other than father to share my news with.
The parting was strange. I expected father to re-join us and salute again, but he did not. Miles Edgeworth seemed like he was going to hug me for a moment, luckily for him he thought better of it. With a firm handshake, we parted ways as so many other families have for this war. My eyes burned slightly after we had called our final goodbyes through the train window, from the steam of course. It hurts my eyes. Little brother waved back at me until the train had pulled out of the station; I watched it go until it was beyond where I could see.
It was cold once the train had left the few of us still on the platform behind. I felt rather foolish, just stood there with my ridiculous memories of little brother. Father was at my side shortly without a word, waiting expectantly. I looped my arm through his and allowed him to lead the way out of the station and towards home. It will be time for tea shortly, and then father has arranged for the two of us to see a play. I wonder how Miles Edgeworth is. Looking out of my window now I can see London, still as busy in the early afternoon as it is before lunch. Little brother cannot see this anymore. I hope he will not miss it too much.
- Franziska.
Dear Miles Edgeworth.
This is an OUTRAGE! You must stop father at once! He has got it into his head that I am not to join the WAAF. Worse still, he has decided I cannot stay in London. It is ‘not safe’ for me. This is ridiculous, he is simply tired of having me around I know he is! Who will look after our house if I am out of London and both of you are away at war? He has not thought this matter through but he will not listen to me, he claims I am getting hysterical. But he will listen to YOU little brother. You must help me convince him to let me stay in London if he will not allow me to join the WAAF. Where else does he intend to send me?
Sincerely, Franziska Von Karma
Dear Franziska.
I hardly have control over your father’s actions! Who will look after the house if both of you are out of the town? Who will NEED to look after the house if it is reduced to rubble with you inside it? Surely you can reach some kind of compromise without my help. I’m very busy here Franziska, I always have time for you but I can’t settle a Von Karma dispute. I’m sure you're being very rational and logical about the situation, but your father will not listen to me anymore than he has listened to you. Please write back as soon as you know what is going to happen to you.
With Apologies and Concern, Miles Edgeworth.
P.S – if you wish to get people on your side, it is advisable to NOT call them just to shout that they are a ‘useless fool with foolish priorities’ for taking too long to write a letter in reply.
Dearest Journal.
The Land Army. THE LAND. ARMY. Father is sending me to a FARM. I am going to dig through dirt and grow food and see animals. On a farm. In the countryside. I waited until last night to pack my bag because I did not honestly believe it would happen. I was sure father would end his little joke before it went this far. I should have known… Father does not joke.
He walked me to the station but did not stay to say goodbye. We parted outside with a handshake briefer than the one Miles Edgeworth and I shared at this very station. He did not really acknowledge my farewell, but that is just the way father is. When I arrive I will write to him about my situation, and he knows this. He knows therefore, that we will be in contact soon. So now I find myself sat in this infernal steam engine, thankfully my compartment is empty, as it pulls me away from London.
Miles Edgeworth used to live in the countryside. I asked him on the phone what they did for fun and he seemed really insulted. The fool is of no help to me whatsoever. He even asked if I was sure I wasn’t being sent away with the other evacuees. I am 18 now, if anybody could be mistaken for a child it is him.
The further the train goes, the more I feel as if I have perhaps overreacted. This will be a strange time, but I will not be defeated by farm animals and mud. Perhaps it is fate for me to tackle a bigger challenge than co-ordinating planes. I’ve heard many rumours about what it is like in the countryside, none of them good. If I arrive with the clear goal in mind of improving whatever drastic situation I find, I may still accomplish something. There are other perks to this situation. Father was not particularly interested in my bag packing, so I was able to pack my whip without reproach. It has been long since I was allowed to carry it in public.
This train journey is supposed to last hours, the town is so far away from London… I will adapt of course. A Von Karma is perfect in all of their endeavours, and I shall impress these foolish farmers with my ability and dedication. It would be easier if it was closer to home, but I do not NEED it to be easier. I will persevere. And when I step off of this train, this ‘Mia Fey’ is going to wish she could keep me on staff for far longer than the length of this war.
- Franziska.
(I just saw a cow!! Or at least that’s what the old man collecting my ticket called it. He insists we have another hour to go, but if I saw a cow then we MUST be close. He is a fool, I should test my whip’s strength on him.)
((I just saw another cow, but this one was brown! It is just like in my early elocution lessons.))
(((I hope I see a horse soon.)))
((((I shall admit it in here because I cannot speak it aloud. The further we get into green countryside the more nervous I find myself. Of course nobody will be allowed to know that I am feeling this way. But I am still slightly put off by these unfamiliar sights. That is why I am filling you in on my animal spotting, Journal. That reminds me, I think this train is scaring birds away because I have not seen any. The pigeons in London’s stations do not get scared away by steam trains. Clearly the birds of the countryside are inferior.))))