Logs:Why?
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| RL Date: 7 June, 2011 |
| Who: Xavior |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Xavior gets convinced to go. |
| Where: Western Islands |
| When: Day 17, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
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| Xavior ducks in through the door of his family's hut looking harried and wild eyed. Inside is his uncle Evian and young cousin Errson, who are furiously stuffing a pair of sacks with belongings. Errson snatches a bag from the floor and flings it at Xavior. "Pack /fast/." The sack wraps itself around the bearded man's face so that he has to tear it away before speaking as he stares incredulously at the older man. "I thought we weren't going! We agreed! We'd go deep in and wait it out!" Errson's head shoots up in surprise as his typically quiet cousin raises his voice. He just stares in shock until his father thumps him on the head to get him going again. "Things change!" Evian grumps at his nephew who is a whole head taller than him. It always rankles the man that he has to look up at his sister's son. Xavior shoots back, "Why?" coming further into the dwelling, dripping water all over the floor and whatever he has to step across. Evian starts to chide the man for that dripping, and then realizes it just doesn't really matter anymore. This thought makes the older man sigh as he looks around. Tired and strained by the stress that has been plaguing them all, his worn voice barely lifts above a harsh whisper when he replies. "You know their sea monsters talk to them?" This is a topic that the young boy is incredibly eager to partake in, so his packing becomes sidelined by his eager interest, "Yea, and they can go places in a blink! Like all the way to... to... shells, /somewhere/ else!" He really doesn't know of anywhere else, and then he remembers the other chunks of rock that are out of their reach. "Like to the distant islands! Just a /blink/!" Evian feels far older than his 50 odd turns today and sighs exhaustively. "Errson, get back to packing. You can tell him about that later!" He too gets back to packing while he speaks. "They talk to them and they /know/ things, and they can speak to people who can read the weather even better than /her/." The old coot doesn't mention her name, but everyone knows exactly who he is talking about. Xavior tries to decide if his uncle has gone insane as well - everyone else he comes across today seems to have! "They don't come from the sea," he schools, "and I listened... I never heard them say a word!" The evidence is clear to him! Of course Errson can't help but correct, "No, they speak to them in their heads!" A stiff finger stabs at his skull. The hirsute man curls his lips into a disbelieving frown. "Likely story. So those... those /people/ tell you these crazy things and you just believe them?" Disappointment clouds his clear blue eyes. Evian is growing impatient with both of them! "Shush!" He levels a glare at his nephew, "Humor me... /pack/." A pile of things set aside for him to bring is gestured to. "Fine," Xavior spits and he starts packing, while demanding, "Tell me why we're going." Satisfied, the old man rattles on. "They speak to people who can read the weather and the stars and know the future!" Watch how the yarn begins to stretch reality. Evian shakes his head, "And the future of the island isn't good." Xavior snorts, but says nothing else as he shoves things into the sack. "The storm is bad. Bad bad, like the one where we lost your father." Evian is careful not to look at the younger man. "They swear it's true." All of the sudden Xavior freezes, his skin taking on a grey/green tinge. "They lie." Even if they don't, he thinks they have ulterior motives and this he doesn't like at all. "No, and if they are, so be it. We can come back," Evian assures with confidence. Then he plays his trump card, "I can't lose you too, boy." He even makes a show of sniffing away emotion. Errson turns the other way so his grin is hidden from his cousin. In the process he spies something beloved that he almost left! His mother's nearly beaten to death pounding rock. It's shoved into the bag so quickly his father couldn't possibly see. Xavior's spine tingles, sending a shiver down his back. Emotions such as this are a difficult thing for the man to swallow, and his uncle knows it. He won't even look at Evian now as he throws random crap into the sack. Then all the sudden he realizes what he is doing and stares into the mouth of the bag. "Why am I packing your things, uncle?" Errson smothers the humor that tries to escape through his nose. The old man glances up from what he is doing to spy the youthful man. "You don't have anything!" Xavior upends the bag and dumps the contents out, then flies for the door. "Yes I do." Out into the storm he goes, fighting against the wind and rain to save what he can before he's taken away to the prison he knows awaits them. His uncle wins - for now. Both Erron and Evian are stunned motionless as they watch him go, then they turn to one another and the old man says, "He has things? What does he have?" The boy shrugs, perplexed, but only for a moment, and then he's grabbing some of the things dumped out and starts shoving it into his bag, stuffing every nook and cranny. Evian nods to the boy and does the same. It isn't long before all three are standing in line waiting to be ferried away from the only home they know with bags stuffed so completely full that the seams bulge. |
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