The Dragonriders of PernŽ is a trademark, Registered U.S. Patent & Trademark Office, of Anne McCaffrey. This is a recorded session, generated by Harper's Tale MOO on Wednesday,October 20th, 1999, for the benefit of members unable to attend. Logged by Pyrene.
It'll End in Tears....
[One of these random logs where I'm not sure what the relevance was. One of my earlier RPs with Tyara though, and she seems to have been much softer in those days.... Incidentally, by this time OOC Search was on and many (maybe all) of the people featured in this log had applied. Not that we were trying to show off our RP skills or anything.]
And on Pern ...
The time is 16:42.
It is afternoon of the twentieth day of autumn.
It is the twentieth Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is an autumn afternoon. As the sun makes its way across the sky, dipping to the west, the warmth of the day still hasn't subsided.
Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Tucked into a glowlit niche are Kallai, Fyurie, Kate, Spur, Sin, Pollina, Satu, Ceinwen, Kelpie, Tirone, Aria Moon, Yum-Yum, Artu, Infinity, Primavera, Tremayne, Mosfet, Cray, Yolk, Athena, Tigger, Zali, Brannt, Psychedelic, and Fandango.
You see Pooky, Mika, Colorful Rainbow Egg, and Kali here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Kitchens Inner Caverns Crafting Area
Visian arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Tyara looks up at the sounds of someone entering, sighing in relief as it isn't a brat. "Afternoon," she greets, voice tinged with friendliness. Afterall, it /wasn't/ a brat..
One should never assume such things; but then, Visian is an adept at pretense. "Hello," he responds, his voice softly liquid, despite being sand-roughened.
Tyara finishes pouring herself a mug of klah. "Can I get you anything?" she offers, holding up the pitcher.
Visian's grin is almost malicious. "Perhaps," he pauses thoughtfully,"You can."
Tyara turns her head to give the man a long stare. Not flirty, mind you. The kind she usually gives the brats when they ask stupid questions - and they do all the time. "Do you want some klah?" the nanny inquires. Oh Faranth, don't let this one have brats..
Visian's brow arches. Briefly. Innocence sparkles. "No. No klah."
Nocturno arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
"Hrm." Tyara grabs her own mug and strolls to a table, sliding into a seat. "I don't believe I've seen you before," she says dryly, indicating that this isn't exactly aggrieving her. "I'm Tyara, nanny." There, that single word sometimes scare off the weaker ones.
Visian inclines his head. "I am Visian. Assistant Steward." Fear? Visian, being a desert-bred brat, fears little, least of all a nanny. Wine is swept up, and poured into a glass.
Tyara arches an eyebrow. "Well met, Visian," she says. Only out of politeness, of course. "How long have you been at the Weyr?"
Visian lifts a shoulder in elegant nonchalance. "Long enough," comes the laconic retort as wine is sipped. "Yourself?"
Tyara crosses her arms. "A little more than a Turn," comes the reply, followed by a snort from the nanny. Long enough indeed. "How do you like it here?" she asks, feigning politeness.
Visian almost-smiles. "I like it," He says shortly, eyeing his wineglass. "Do you?"
Tyara smiles, leaning back in her seat. "Usually.." That is, when the brats behave. And they never do..
Visian says, "Only usually?"
Tyara sips her klah, green eyes watching the assistant steward over the rim. "Yes. Some people make me feel jumpy." The brats of course, but he doesn't know that.
"Such rude individuals." Visian retorts with mock-sympathy," I should assign them chores, shouldn't I?"
Tyara almost chokes on her klah. "Oh, I can do that myself," she retorts lightly. Afterall, the brats have something remotely close to respect for the nannies.
Miralia arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Visian snorts. "Are you sure?" He peers intently at Tyara. One might get the idea that he likes punishments.
Pyrene arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Tyara crosses her arms. If there's one thing she can do it's to make the brats behave.. sorta. "Perfectly," is replied, the nanny smiling as she spots Pyrene. "Hi, Pyrene."
Miralia enters the living caverns and, after a brief smile to those present, starts rummaging around on one of the trays for a snack.
Pyrene slips quietly on in, blinking mildly around at all the fire lizards who seem to have congregated around here. "Afternoon..." she murmurs to the people assembled, flashing a grin at Tyara. "Late lunch." she explains, heading towards the food. Another nod to Miralia, "Any thoughts on helping out yet..." She eyes Visian idly... maybe he can be roped into it too.
Miralia grins wickedly as she helps herself to a meatroll or two. "What's in it for me?" she asks with a glint in her eye.
Sasa arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Pyrene jerks her head towards Sasa. "You get to spend time with angels like that one over there. Isn't that reward enough in itself?" Expression is all earnest sincerity.
Miralia wags a finger. "No," she says with a grin. "If I wanted that I'd keep volunteering to babysit my sibs."
Visian lifts a brow at Pyrene. "What exactly are you after?" he knows that look.
Tyara smiles wryly at Pyrene's question. No way anyone'd be stupid enough to do that after the arrival of these brats.. "Afternoon Sasa, Leya," the nanny greets, offering a smile. Eyes quickly flicker over Visian. Hmm, did it take that little to leave him speechless..
Sasa is a angel.
Miralia grins at Visian's question. "She wants me to help with the nannying," she supplies when Pyrene doesn't.
Pyrene half-falls into a chair, snagging some sliced tubers and cheese by way of largely random nourishment. Another innocent near-childlike expression is turned on Visian, "Just some simple assistance is all. To help keep the nurseries running smoothly..." Offload the worst jobs onto other people etc. "Besides, if you're the assistant steward, shouldn't you be familiar with as many aspects of the weyr as possible?"
Tyara snorts softly, sending Pyrene a glance. Watch that one! Visian is given a wry grin. "Nothing you aren't too busy to do, I'm sure."
Athena suddenly launches into the air, her little verdant form instantly winks ::between::
Visian snorts. "Not if it means running after someone else's brats."
Miralia laughs and takes a bite from her meatroll.
Sasa says, "Im good. o:)"
Tyara chuckles. "Oh, none of them are ours," she points out, shuddering at the mere thought. "Do you have any br.. kids?" she asks Visian, suddenly suspicious.
Visian snorts. "Me? Absoloutely /not/." he shudders. "I do not /want/ any."
"But isn't that what stewarding is all about?" Pyrene wonders with wide-eyed ingenuity, turning that gaze on the others in the room for back-up. "Learning to care for /other/ people's welfare?" A glance at Sasa and she adds, "Besides, this one's good. She said so." Maybe they'll fall for it.
Tyara nods, giggling at Pyrene. "It sure is," she adds cheerily, giving the other nanny a wink. "And," she says, turning to Visian, "if the /parents/ want the kid to behave well it's a lot easier."
Miralia munches on a meatroll thoughtfully. "Oddly enough, that's what my... third... youngest sister said. That she was good... Right before she and my youngest brother tied up the hold healer and covered her in bubbly mixture." She doesn't miss looking after them.
Visian snorts. "?I/ am an assistant. Not a Steward." he grins."Most don't, you know."
Pyrene rolls her eyes sidelong to Miralia. She's not helping. "Most don't what?" she asks Visian.
Tyara snickers at the /assistant/ steward. "The assistant part means that you learn what the steward is supposed to know, only you have to work harder." She winces, looking at Pyrene. That doesn't go for nannying, of course... does it?
Sasa says, "Im a good girl. o:)"
Visian chuckles softly. "It also means I /don't/ go in for Nannying. That's for assistant headwomen. Most parents do not make thier whelp behave, Pyrene."
Tyara arches an eyebrow. "Headwomen don't have time to deal with the brats. That's what we are for," she says sweetly, gesturing towards herself and Pyrene.
Miralia raises her eyebrows at the last comment, but munches on a meatroll and says nothing.
Of course it's /supposed/ to go for nannying, but in Pyrene's utterly unbiased opinion she works harder than the other nannies put together. Tyara does get a significant glance before she turns back to Visian. "But the steward and his assistants /are/ supposed to know the weyr, and therefore the people in it. And believe me, I /know/ that most parents don't bring up their kids properly."
Visian nods. "Therefore,"he stresses with saccharine sweetness," you shouldn't be recruiting stewards." He turns to Pyrene. "Not the brats. We have nothing to do with them. They are domestic.
"Domestic?" Miralia blurts out before saying, "But..." she decides not to get into an argument and shuts up.
Sasa wants a mom or a dad.
Tyara snorts, pushing away her mug. "That is so typical..." male. yeah, but the nanny doesn't say that.
Visian sniffs. "Of course it's typical! Men do /not/ raise children." Except, of course, if they're coerced into it.
Pyrene swallows a mouthful of tuber and looks thoughtfully at Visian. "So let me get this straight. Because you're the steward you don't care at all what happens to poor, helpless" ahem, "little children like Sasa here," she waves over to the girl as if she was a pitiful orphan being turned out into the cold snows.
Miralia finishes off her meatroll and determindly starts munching on a redfruit, trying to keep herself from arguing along with the nanny.
Tyara tilts her head, smiling sweetly -falsely, so what - at Visian. "We have a male nanny," she informs.
Visian narrows his gaze at Pyrene."I'm not /the/ steward. And I didn't say I did not care about children. I merely have no desire to be among them.Is that so bad?" He eyes Tyara with faint annoyance. "I noticed."
Tyara grins. "Could've fooled me," she mumbles, winking at the other women. Ah yes, this is almost as fun as telling a brat they have cookie-quaranteene.
Pyrene snorts, then catches herself and reverts to that sugar sweet tone again. "I have no desire to be among them, but we can't always do what we want now can we?"
Visian growls softly,"Could I now?" He eyes Pyrene. "We can when it comes to /brats/. I will not help with them. No. There are others for that job."
Pyrene's mouth quirks, but after a brief internal struggle, she regains her air of straight-faced curiosity. "And what if Mayir--or Areiah, T'lendel, whoever--what if they /asked/ you to help look after some of the brats for the day? As part of your duties." Her eyes blink, guileless and genuine. She was trained well.
Miralia sits back to hear the answer, then spies some klah in the corner and makes a move to grab some.
Visian snorts. "we have enough nannies for the job. It's not part of a Steward's duties to look after brats."
Tyara leans back, grinning at the conversation. Ah yes, this is fun..
Pyrene wags a finger at him, "We do /now/. But anything could happen... Tyara here's been very tired lately. Maybe she'll suddenly collapse and have to spend a few months in the Infirmary. Birlon might decide to leave and settle down to raise his own family with Perisienne--hopefully far from here. Vanessa could be Searched or something. And then we'd be short-staffed and in need of temporary assistance until I could get some more nannies." She favours Visian with a saccharine beam and then turns to Miralia abruptly, "Any redfruit juice over there?"
Tyara winces at Pyrene's words. Her, collaps? Hmm, she ponders doing it just to give Pyrene more work. "Oh, relax Py, I won't collaps on you.."
Miralia blinks at the sudden shift in topic and holds out the jug of redfruit juice sitting next to the jug of klah.
Visian snorts. "Ha! Then you will find suitable women from the lower caverns. I won't be badgered by that sticky-fingered troupe of miscreants you've housed in the caverns."
Sasa steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.
Miralia makes an odd half-choking/half-suppressed laugh noise. "Miscreants?" she echoes.
Visian says, "Miscreants." Visian almost grits his teeth. "Half-pint miscreants.""
Tyara blinks. Hmm, interesting word. She should start using it herself.
Pyrene darts a wink at Tyara, "I was speaking hypothetically of course... but if you're not that tired after all. Thanks Miralia!" At Visian's addition she turns back around, blinking slightly. My, are we still discussing this? "Well, maybe," she concedes in a bored tone, "And suitable men as well of course." Miscreants doesn't even rate a comment. She'd use a /much/ stronger word, herself.
Visian glares, his contrasting eyes nearly identical for a change. "You persist in wanting men to do this. Why?" Wet can't!
Miralia almost chokes on her klah and glances up. "That was a cough," she says quickly, "Just a cough." Honest.
Pyrene blinks again, fluttering those eyelids in every semblance of confusion. "Wanting /men/ to do this? Oh, dear Faranth, not at all, don't worry! We want /anybody/ other than us to do this. Why on Pern would we limit ourselves to men?"
Miralia sits back in her chair, blowing on her klah to cool it. "In Telgar Weyr, the view was if you could care for the children, and there is no one else to help, you care for the children. It was that or have the headwoman murder you..." She raises an eyebrow. "Whether a man or a woman."
Tyara winces again, returning Pyrene's glance. "Hmm, Birlon is doing a good job. That is," she adds dryly, "when he isn't being tied up in the bowl.."
Pyrene nods in agreement with Miralia, then at Tyara's words, smiles faintly in reminiscence, "Ah yes, being tied up in the bowl... for me it was in here, but fortunately I managed to outwit them." Preen. Well, maybe Sabrina helped. A little.
Miralia stands, taking her mug with her. "I've got to get going." she says, and heads for the south caverns.
Visian sends a sidelong glare to Pyrene. "Hmmph. Women are better nannies. /They/ have the kids." Not that he hasn't tried to /help/, mind.
Miralia goes home.
Tyara chuckles at Pyrene. "Hmm, noone tied me up.." Of course, she won't mention the tunnelsnake in her bed. Neither the living nor the dead.. "Oh, watch your mouth," she snarls at Visian, finally losing her temper.
Pyrene's temper is still under control. She's having far too much fun to lose it. "Oh but you'd be surprised at how bad some women are..." and just to spice things up a little she lets her eyes drift over to Tyara significantly. "While Birlon's so /good/ with the children," she continues smoothly. "You never know Visian... maybe it's your calling in life, and you just don't know it..."
Tyara decides to shut up now, Visian getting a flaring look on the way. "Hrm!"
Visian half-growls. "It is /not/ my calling. And I could care less that Birlion is /good/ with the children. He is an exception, most likely."
Tyara snorts. "Exception indeed," she mumbles, looking knowingly at Pyrene.
With a snarl that comes close to a screech, Visian /glares/ at the two women."Just /why/ are you insisting on this?"
Pyrene leans back and regards Visian sympathetically. "So bitter and so young..." she's younger and has her own bitter streak, but that's not the point. "What can have caused such... /animosity/ towards a simple way of life?"
Tyara smiles innocently, winking at Pyrene. "Insisting on what? That some men take on responsibility towards their children?" Ooh, that ought to sting..
Visian says, "It is not a way of life for men to raise children." He bends that steely glare on Tyara. "I know sharding well that men in this weyr do provide for their children. Raising them, however, is the /woman/'s duty."
Tyara tilts her head. "In other words, you admit that women are better than men regarding some things?" Oh wow, how /noble/.
Pyrene sips daintily from her drink. "But suppose the woman can't look after her child? I know a couple of women riders who let their non-riding weyrmates look after their children because they prefer that to fostering. And in /my/ opinion, that's a great way of going about things." Less work for the nannies, you see.
Visian's bony shoulders jerk back. "If she can't look after it, it is not my particular burden." Then, he turns on Tyara. "Women are not better than men. Nor are men better than women."
Tyara arches an eyebrow. "But, since the woman goes through all the effort of giving birth, it's her responsibility to spend her time raising kids as well?"
Visian says, "Why should it not be?"
Tyara frowns. "Because it takes two to create a kid," she says, as if he wasn't aware of this fact. Ah well, she's spending too much time with the brats.
"I would not have guessed." Visian reorts silkily. "After all, I am merely a man, yes?" Eyes glitter with soft malice. "Why, a man cannot just provide the proper clothing and housing for a child, he must do the woman's domestic duties /for/ her."
Tyara smiles her false brat-smile. "Oh, I didn't say that. I don't consider raising a child, your own blood, a /domestic duty/." The last two words are said in an acid tone.
Pyrene listens for a time, utterly amused by the interchange. She can't keep quiet for long however: "But in the weyr, men /don't/ provide the housing. The weyr does. It provides most of the clothes as well. So therefore, don't men have as much duty by the children as the women?"
Visian snorts. "It must be provided by the man in question, not the Weyr-at-large." he rolls his eyes. "Who told you that?" He glares at Tyara again. His favorite expression, these days. "Then what is it, if not a duty?"
Tyara arches an eyebrow. "It's a choice. You choose to get children." Well, most of the time anyway. "And we," she motions to herself and Pyrene, "volunteer to take care of other people's children," she grimaces. It always sounds worse when said out loud, "because they don'thave time to do it properly themselves."
Pyrene grins. "So I suppose you'll try to tell me that Fionchadd built that weyr for Areiah? And makes her leathers? And if a man /wasn't/ providing for a child here, the weyr makes sure that that child gets food, clothing and shelter." She also winces at Tyara's words. Volunteer... it certainly doesn't feel like it sometimes.
'That is /your/ misfortune." Visian runs a hand through ihis curls. "Not mine. I do not choose to get children of any sort. It's still a sharding /duty/." He curls his lip at Pyrene."How should I know? Did he?" A haughty sniff precedes the next statement: "/If/. And it is not likely that a man does /not/ provide for his children."
Pyrene finally has to ask it. "Visian, do you have any children yourself?"
"No." Visian denies promptly. "What would I /do/ with them?"
Tyara snorts. "Certainly don't raise them," she says disregardingly.
"Turn them over to me by the looks of it." Pyrene observes acidly, "Or leave them with the mother. You wouldn't have any bluerider blood in you by any chance?" Eyes narrow with this sudden question.
Tyara bites back a laugh. Pyrene can turn anything into a question of blueriders. Any bad thing, that is.. "Hmm, I'd rather say the behavior of a green lizard," she mumbles. Yup, clutch the eggs and then leave them at the mercy of the surroundings.
"I would leave them with their mother. As is proper," Comes Visian's equally acid retort. "Or don't you know that?" Something like a grin curves his mouth. "As a matter of fact, my grandfather was a blue rider."
Pyrene can indeed turn most things into a question of blueriders, although this one /is/ actually more related than you might think. "Really now. What did he do? Dump your father--or mother--with your gran and say, 'Well, I'll make sure you're provided for, but I'm not really interested...'" Eyes narrow further, suddenly intent on the reply.
Tyara's eyes widen a little. Uh oh, this means trouble.. "Hrm, proper for the men, maybe," is the nanny's sullen reply.
"No," Visian smiles sweetly, "He did not."
Visian snorts at Tyara."And the women." He rolls his eyes. "Just what do you think is proper, anyway? That the men do the domestic duties?"
Pyrene's eyes open again, a little deflated by that. "He didn't? Oh. My grandfather did..." but let's never mind that, shall we? "So what did he do then?"
Eyes flaring, the nanny regards Visian coldly. "I think it is proper that the men take on them an /active/ responsibility." She snorts. "Anyone can pay for a child's clothes and make sure it doesn't starve. It takes love and care to raise it."
Visian lifts his chin slightly. "Is that what this is about? Your grandfather didn't care? Mine cared for us. /All/ of us." He narrows his gaze at Tyara. "And providing clothing and food is not /active/ responsibility? making sure the child is safe is not actuive responsibility?"
Tyara narrows her eyes in return. "As I said, anyone can do that," she replies acidly. "The mother can do that too. And she often does, since the father leaves and never returns again."
Pyrene flicks one hand irritably. "It's not about my grandfather. I never even knew him--it's not like I'd want to after all. So did you /love/ your grandfather then?" A dry glance at Tyara, and she adds, "OK, so he rode blue, but I hear it's possible."
"The father does /not/ just leave!" Visian growls. "He provides food, shelter, clothing and protection so the mother does not have to! Is that so wrong?" He gives Pyrene an almost deadly look. "It is. You've warped ideas about blue riders because of one stupid man. Yes, I loved my grandfather."
Pyrene suddenly laughs. "Because of one stupid man? Oh, now, I wouldn't be so hard on D'renn! It was more to do with Ethree... Actually, my grandfather has very little to do with my feelings for blueriders. I'm not so close-minded as that. I didn't realise what blueriders were like until /after/ I came to the weyr." See? It's a perfectly well-founded bias!
Tyara jumps up. "Some fathers do," she yells, staring at Visian. "They leave, and then they never come back. /Ever/!" Her voice breaks on the last word and she walks quickly towards the bowl, muffled sounds sounding suspicously like sobs emerging from her throat.
Tyara exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.
Visian starts to answer Pyrene with some heat, then turns, with some -- well muffled, or so he htinks -- concern for Tyara as she disappears. "I'll growl at /you/ later, Pyrene." With that, he dashes.
Visian exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.
Pyrene starts, her own personal bitterness forgotten in the face of Tyara's sudden outburst. "Ohh... Tyara!" she calls after her, too late. She looks at Visian, mouth open helplessly. "I..." And he's gone too... So she follows. What else can she do?
Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is an autumn afternoon. As the sun makes its way across the sky, dipping to the west, the warmth of the day still hasn't subsided.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are Majicke, Zhaneel, Trellis, Loch Ness, Warrior,
Kynance, and Lava.
Green Zaqith, bronze Cairhoth, and brown Sevareth are here.
You see a wagonmaster, TumbleWeed, Alexshandrya, and Wagon Two here.
You notice Miny asleep here.
Obvious exits:
Pens Northern Bowl Caverns Ground Weyrs Lakeside
Visian practically boils out of the caverns, looking about for Tyara.
Tyara is standing a few dragonlenghts away from the entrance, with her back turned to everyone.
Pyrene doesn't boil. She slips, shoulders tensed in that 'I didn't mean it' way so often seen on the brats. "Tya... Tya... I didn't mean anything... Really, I'm sorry?" Was it her fault? She's not sure, but it often seems to be.
"Tyara," Visian inquires quietly,"What..?"
Tyara turns around to face Pyrene, tears streaming down he face. "I-it wasn't y-you," she sobs, burying her head in her hands.
Pyrene doesn't look any happier, tentatively approaching to hug the other girl. "Tya, it's alright, it's alright. You're old enough to take care of yourself now anyway.." she mumbles, awkwardly joking. "C'mon, don't cry like this... Y'know the brats would never let you live it down if they saw you..." Please... smile.
Tyara slides her arms around Pyrene, slumping to cry into the other nanny's shoulder. "I d-don't care," comes the muffled reply.
Alfi steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.
And the question is posed:" Then, what /is/ it?" Visian of course wants to know.
Alfi looks at Tyara as she walks in. Hmm. Not good. "Erm, hi?" Best to be cautious.
Confusin flickers in Visian's gaze, and he shifts, almost restlessly. "So What..is this about, Tyara?" He's pragmatic, is Visian.
Alfi is pretty confused herself. It's not normal to see a nanny crying like a brat in the bowl. She stands, biting her lip. "Erm, should I leave?"
Pyrene half-glares at Visian from over Tya's head. "I'd guess it was your comments about fathers..." she hisses, trying not to let Tya hear her. She shakes her head silently to Alfi's question, only now noticing the girl.
Tyara sniffs and pulls back from Pyrene, shaking her head at Alfi. "No, it's ok Alfi," she says, turning her gaze to Visian. "Sorry I yelled at you," she mumbles, her shoulders still trembling with sobs.
Alfi mouths the word "stay?" to Pyrene, wondering why. This is pretty clearly not her business. Whatever.
"He's a big boy, Tya." Pyrene assures her lightly, heartily relieved to see her friend getting herself together again. "I'm sure he can take it."
A sigh. "Look -- I'm sorry about that, Tyara." Awkwardly, he pats her shoulder. "Just..stop crying, okay? Wasn't /your/ fault your dfather didn't have the guts to stay, right? He's missed out on a lot." A lot of what, Visian doesn't know. But that sounds like the best thing to say. Right?
Tyara wipes her eyes, grimacing a smile at Visian. "It's not about my father," she says quietly, eyes getting distant as they stare out over the bowl for a moment. "Anyway," she says briskly, "we should go inside before we get sick."
Alfi shakes her head, a bit sorry for Tyara but still completely confused. "Father?" she mouths, barely keeping from saying it aloud. Might offend Tyara more or something.
Pyrene glances over at Tya, "Sick? It's not that cold. Not considering the time of year... just as well too after that long winter..." Smiling weakly at Alfi, she waves one hand at the other girl, mouthing back "I'll explain later.." Or try to. She doesn't know the whole story herself.
Again, faint confusion registers in Visian's gaze. "I suppose it's one of those things I should infer from thin air?" He mutters to himself.
Alfi nods slowly. "Later's good. If you don't mind." The words escape her mouth, and she wonders if they sound too lighthearted.
Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Tucked into a glowlit niche are Kallai, Fyurie, Kate, Spur, Sin, Pollina, Satu, Ceinwen, Kelpie, Tirone, Aria Moon, Yum-Yum, Artu, Infinity, Primavera, Tremayne, Mosfet, Cray, Yolk, Tigger, Zali, Brannt, Psychedelic, and Fandango.
You see Pooky, Mika, Colorful Rainbow Egg, and Kali here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Kitchens Inner Caverns Crafting Area
Alfi walks in from the Central Bowl.
Visian slouches in from the Central Bowl.
Pyrene wanders distractedly in from the Central Bowl.
Tyara slides into the nearest seat, her eyes staring at the opposite wall.
Alfi paces over to the table and holds out a klah mug. "Want..." she stops. 'Cold' was mentioned, but this may not be the time for klah.
Persistence, if nothing else, usually pays off, right? Visian wanders over, then touches Tyara's shoulder gently. "Am I really as bad as all that?"
As Alfi returns to a seat with a mug of klah for herself, she scans over what she's seen. Hmmm...Tyara's upset, something about father, and Visian apologising. Cause sighted, she thinks as she sips.
Tyara jumps as someone touches her shoulder. She stares upwards, into Visian's face. "No," she sighs, "you were just saying the wrong things at the wrong time.."
Psychedelic hops around, feet still shuffling about. People! His eyes whirl a bright tint of red, a sign of hunger. Geez, it's not that fun being with a kidlet that usually only tries to feed him bubblies. Where's the /real/ food?
Pyrene settles quietly into her own seat, preferring not to say anything for the moment.
Visian says, "Then what am I /supposed/ to say? I've never enncountered very many men who didn't provide for their children. And I've never known any male in my family to be uncaring."
Tyara shakes her head slightly. "Me neither, but the few that I knew make up for all those who did care.."
Visian almost growls something, but bites it back. barely. "Well, I suppose you would think that,." he mutters instead.
Tyara smiles wryly. "This doesn't mean that I think all men don't care. Far from."
Visian snorts. "Only men who do not want to become mothers."
Alfi sighs and sinks down deep into the chair. How in Faranth's name did she get involved in this?! She was in a good mood, but that was dampened.
Pyrene frowns unhappily and slips off, still depressed.
Tyara turns her head away, her body tensing. "I don't want to discuss this anymore," she says, voice flat.
Pyrene goes home.
[There was more, but I've left off here. If you're desperate to know how it ended, I suggest you track down Tyara.]
