Logs:Crushed Dreams
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| RL Date: 13 October, 2008 |
| Who: Anvori |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Anvori dwells on his sister's warning in regards to Edeline. |
| When: Day 28, Month 12, Turn 17 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Satiet/Mentions, Edeline/Mentions, Riahla/Mentions |
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| It is a winter night, 23:32 of day 28, month 12, turn 17 of Interval 10. It'd long sunk in, years before, that Satiet was no longer his baby sister. Younger, perhaps. Baby or little, no. That her world and his had diverged so completely that neither could completely fathom the other. But tonight was the first time it had actually bothered him. That it had burrowed beneath his skin to dwell there. Dinner had not been as humiliating as it had initially felt -- the benefits of retrospect. Holding a delighted, squirming Riahla in his lap, he'd listened and agreed when she'd made her request, meanwhile writhing within himself. He'd even smiled and laughed a little; convincing himself and her of the ludicrousness of it all, and afterwards-... Afterwards, he'd run a tab at the Snowasis he wasn't entirely sure he could pay. "You can't do anything for her." "We're too base born, not important enough." "You're divorced." "He doesn't think you have the balls to do Ysave in in her sleep." Had he actually meant it? Was that why his sister's far-too-careful careless words bothered him so? Wasn't it all some joke to bring a smile to a pretty girl's sad face? Self-doubt sat ill on his confident features. Dark, the ceiling above his bed was just starting to become more clear in its varied nooks and ridges as his eyes adjusted. He shifted, turning away to curl up on an elbow and found, instead, the view of the door. Outside, he heard steps and the rustling of skirts and involuntarily, his attention perked, head lifted. Then, the steps faded in the distance, further than the few doors down to her chambers. Despite himself, self-mocking curved his mouth and his head lowered to his elbow once more. "Hopeless," he said aloud, if only to fill the silence of his room. 'Tomorrow,' he promised himself, 'Things would be different.' |
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