Logs:All Is Forgiven
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| RL Date: 11 August, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Ghena |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Brother and sister catch up. |
| Where: Bookworm's Paradise Weyr (G'laer & Oliwer's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 7, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, B'gherio/Mentions, Baeli/Mentions, Gallania/Mentions, Gheara/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Laghnei/Mentions, Oliwer/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Rh'mis/Mentions, Riola/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, U'by/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| It speaks to their relationship and perhaps to the character of each sibling individually that after months of not seeing one another, Ghena showing up at his weyr one evening while Oliwer is on duty in the infirmary to announce that she'd forgiven him because "she's the bigger person" didn't even warrant him asking what he'd done to first displease her or to then be forgiven. He just invited her in and offered her a drink. That's what you're supposed to do with sisters, right? The weyr has changed since her last visit. It's a little more homey with a tapestry depicting the Healer Hall over the mantel and framed drawings of herbs with the labels in Gran's hand to either side. There's more, simpler tapestries hanging off the ends if the bookshelves that create the rows in his weyr and a single stuffed armchair by the hearth. Now, sitting across the table from his sister in awkward silence after the drinks were in their hands, he must be prompted to ask, "How are you, Ghena? And Knioth?" Family has a purpose after all, even if it makes life awkward and unpredictable (and if we are all being honest G'laer and Ghena's tends to be more so due to sheer size) so naturally Ghena is absurdly at ease despite months of estrangement, as though they'd never stopped talking to each other. "Same as ever, " her reply comes, "Chasing and wooing when he's not chasing, and writing sonnets when he's not chasing or wooing, and of course giving bronzes a complex when it comes to his hue." The shoulder roll comes easily. "You know the usual, How is Ollie and Teisyth and being stuck back home with no escape from Mom or Dad still treating you?" "Some days I think you're worse off." As though it's a competition. Isn't it always sort of with siblings? "At least I don't ever have to worry about her wooing. She hates it when she's proddy and hides out til she files and then it's over with only a few death threats or a dislocated shoulder to be shown for it." Not that it was ever public knowledge that G'laer's dislocated shoulder was a result of his last flight. But she's family, right? And she wanted him, once upon a time, to volunteer things. Wish granted! "Oli's well." Simple, direct. "At work just now." The greenrider twists his mug on the tabletop, "He inadvertently banished Mother. I haven't had to see her since. At least not here." Publicly is a different story. He can hardly run out of the living cavern at meal time without attracting notice, for example. "Teisyth's..." He purses his lips a moment. "We could be better. We're becoming better." In theory, anyway. Ghena winces, "I am not sure I can argue with you there," And since they are sharing, and he's opened the can of worms. "I can't say any of Knioth's flights have been that violent, then again, I think I gave a rider an ulcer. Does gran have anything stronger than what the healers provide for prevention?" Of ulcers or other things she doesn't specify because better topics await. "He did - I wondered why she's been pestering me more lately. I like this guy, you should definitely keep him. So what's wrong with Teisyth, she isn't sick or something is she?" "Not prevention." G'laer's answer is grim. "Since the twins she's developed something that seems to terminate an unwanted pregnancy." He uses such clinically clean words. "Are you?" Knocked up. His eyes are level on her, serious but not accusatory. To be fair, he's probably the kind of brother who would understand if she were and didn't want to be. "Ulcers are better than stabbings." He notes, "I'd rather you give the former if anything at all. Being on the other side, it pretty much sucks." Well, maybe for him because all of his flights have been... well. "I have every intention of keeping Oliwer." It's delivered blandly, for all that it's a statement unto its own. "The same thing that's always been. She's just sometimes not very good at certain dragon-y things." Like flaming. And simple wing formations. "Only now it matters more." For pregnancy, she's frowning, the likeness is uncanny between the two sometimes when she does that. "No, at least I don't think I am, I take the herbs, we between but - well." She manages after a minute or two. "You have the twins and Mom had all of us. I don't want that kind of responsibility yet if I can keep from it, but Knoith doesn't take gender preferences into consideration when he chases, he just does it, I just didn't think the first catch would be a male a decade my senior" The tone is confessional. "I promised Telavi a thank you card with glitter, saying thank you for the awesome dragon sex if Knioth ever caught her green." The attempt at humor pushing away the discomfort with the topic of pregnancies. "Maybe we could help, with the flaming bit, though drills - Is it just that she has trouble remembering positions?" The way G'laer asks, "Was he an ass?" of the greenrider in question has the sound of 'do I need to beat him up?' without those words being said, and maybe he wouldn't offer at all. "You can always foster any children out. Or, Gran's herbs." He shrugs. "Mom seemed to enjoy being pregnant enough." There are eleven of them after all. "Mom would probably even offer to foster if you didn't want to be a parent. You know she wants more even though the healers have said she can't." Isn't eleven enough? "Glitter." The single word is said as if it tastes bad. "If it makes you feel better, Teisyth doesn't take gender preference into account either. Only men, so far. And Rh'mis three times." His look is momentarily sour. No glitter for Rh'mis' awesome dragon sex, that's for sure! "Maybe. Do you think Knioth has the patience for helping her? She can be a challenge." As for drills, "The positions are fixed in my head. She just... struggles. Give her something complex and she'll be the first to do it and do it perfectly, but the simple stuff..." He shrugs helplessly. Who can say why a person, or a dragon in this case, has certain talents and not others? Ghena turns bright red. "If anything I was the ass, he felt bad because it was Knoith's first catch and well - I warned him about our families tendency to be absurdly fertile." She doesn't elaborate. "I guess that would be an option, fostering - it's just the whole ten month thing and the - bleh. If it happens I guess I can worry about it then." She scrunches her nose at mention of the brownrider, "I am truly sorry, I should have bought you a consolation present." Before taking a long drag from her cup, "Sure - he writes sonnets if that doesn't inspire patience I don't know what will." She leans forward a moment thinking about the situation. "So make the simple things more complex - instead of using physical things though use mental ones like naming all the dragons in the wing, or counting backwards. Shells, you helped me get through the harper part of weyrlinghood the least I can do is help you with this." "Best not. Nothing you can do about it now except take long trips between." G'laer takes a long sip and swallow before saying. "No need. Since then there's been A'rist and H'vier. As you might imagine, I am so looking forward to her next flight." Not. Then onto better topics, "He's not cared for her much at times before and I don't need her confidence shaken." He gives his sister a long meaningful look. Finally, he admits, "I hadn't thought of that." She gives her brother a look. "Really we should both be thankful that she isn't his type. He should be fine, so long as you and I don't start arguing. Even then, I could even see if one of the greens them would mind watching. He'd never behave poorly in front of one of them." As for that look she just shrugs, "Out of the minds of us simpletons something brilliant does occasionally come forth." "You'd not let that happen." G'laer answers with confidence. "Just like Baeli, Riola, and Laghnei, and Dad won't ever let Hezalth, Cekath, Cerzoth, or Kozeranth do anything stupid like try to chase." Because that's just how it is. "Don't be stupid and we won't have to argue." The greenrider says simply, because that's totally a peaceable thing to say. "How are you finding Taiga?" He asks next though, so perhaps they can breeze right through that middle thing. "Well no, it helps that you're - " Drunk, out of character, bizzare? "Well, I can always tell when Teisyth getting ready to rise at any rate, and make a point to be well away during that time." Capable of diplomacy she can be at times, maybe that's why she only gives him a severe glare at mention of the word stupid. See maturity happens, albeit slowly. She's used to being the bigger person at this point. "It's Taiga. Always some kind of bizarre mess. Not as bad as Polaris but - well." Shoulders lift noncommittally. "How's wrangling weyrlings?" "Proddy." G'laer fills in the word for her. The accurate word. "Oliwer can let you know if you're not keeping tabs." As might be expected, surely the healer can recognize by now the signs before anyone else has Proddy G'laer inflicted upon them. The glare is ignored, unsurprisingly. He nods for the words about Taiga and then says simply, "I quit." And swallows more of his drink. Ghena rolls her eyes for the word proddy, but it's the two word reply that garners her attention. "Because you wanted to, or because you had your pride bruised?" Were it anyone else maybe she wouldn't have added the last, but she knows her brother well enough by now. There's no accusation in the tone however, she simply waits calmly for the reply. G'laer is silent, staring at his sister. Possibly he's thinking of kicking her out, but perhaps her many-time professes wish to know him better combined with her lack of understanding of his character is what finally prompts him to say, "Pride is a fool's weakness. I am many things, but I am no fool." He take a sip of his beverage, expression and tone quite even. His voice has grown quiet, reflective by the time he says, "No, little sister. Not pride. If you are looking for my great sin, it is wrath. And that surely played its part." He raises his blue gaze from the drink and to meet hers unflinchingly as he lays bare his greatest fault. "I will not stay where Teisyth isn't wanted. She is too enthusiastic for what Olveraeth and Quinlys want. And they did not want us. I had to beg for the opportunity and though she accepted me on a trial basis, we were not wanted there. Teisyth deserves better. I am a dragonman and my duty is first to her." Though, as ever, restrained, there is strength of conviction and a sort of finality to the way he says these things. Ghena sits in silence listening, the furrows in her brow deepening. "Yeah she does." If Ghena considers any other angle, it isn't spoken. "I'm sorry, that it worked out that way." The words come finally, a drain from her cup accompanying them. "Teisyth has plenty of strengths, I'm fairly sure she's still the only dragon capable of flying with her tail end first. Give it some time I'm sure they will see it too." It's with a frown that G'laer says, "Icicle is the right place for her." Aerial acrobatics and all. "But can you imagine me being wingmates with Mother?" He raises a hand to briefly pinch the bridge of his nose for the thought. When it drops away he adds, "Really I'm just fortunate that Faelaerith is too sweet a dragon to dig for information in the way Mother would like, or my life would inadvertently be an open book to her. You know how Teisyth can..." He sighs at his drink, "...slip." Alas for his secrets. "Family does make things difficult. I don't think the wing leader could handle you both in the same wing, someone is bound to lose a limb." Then the blue rider grins, "Teisyth is a good match for you, her cheerfulness contrasts your grumpy nature perfectly. It's good that she doesn't do well with secrets, makes it easier for the rest of us." The drink is finished off, the cup still held in her hands. G'laer sighs, heavily, as if the weight of the world were borne solely on his shoulders. Then, oh-so-patiently, he explains, "I am not grumpy, Ghena. One has to care to be grumpy." It must be a joke, though there's no smile of course. "The rest of you," he says, more seriously(?), "would do well to stay well away from my secrets if you know what's good for you." But at least he doesn't say it like a threat, just fair warning. She does look like she's pouting at the last but there's something mischievous in that smile. "Exactly what a grumpy old man would say of secrets." The cup is set to the table, "What would I know though, I'm just a silly teenager. I need to get going, but let me know when you want to start flaming practice." "I believe thirty," his recent turnday accounted for, "is enough turns to say what I like about my secrets without being named grumpy for it. You want to see grumpy," G'laer shifts, rising smoothly and moving to -- yes, that's a walking stick he's plucking from the end-cap of one of the bookcases. Then, without warning, he's twisting back toward his sister, raising it and chasing her out as though he means to do her ill. But if a grumpy old man is what she'd have him be... well, he's probably joking, right? |
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