Difference between revisions of "Logs:Hoping On Nothing"

In the evening, fog is beginning to rise around the island, filling in the low areas first as it rolls off the ocean. The islands nearby are nearly invisible in it, but Exile Island's point remains clear for now at least. Jaques is up there now, sitting on the bench with his elbows on his knees as he studies the water, pensive, though that's hardly uncommon for him.

Tomaeran's foot falls might have been audible, though the fog further down the path has muffled them. Still, he makes no effort to hide his progress, swinging straight down onto the bench beside his cousin as he announces, "Saw your girl down at the settlement. I think she was looking for you." Tom smirks, self-satisfied.

"Evie?" says Jaques, like he has another woman. He sits up straighter so he can look back at Tom, mouth pulled into a frown. "What did she need? Can't be important; she sent you," he dismisses the errand out of hand. "I'll go down in a minute. I was just--Shimana said it's going to rain tomorrow. Wasn't sure I believed her." Now, with the clouds rolling in, he apparently does.

"I'm no one's message-boy," insists Tom, affronted. "I told her I didn't have the faintest idea where you were. It's just luck, finds me here. With you." He turns his attention to the encroaching clouds and laughs. "She's crazy, but she does seem to know her stuff, seems like. And now she's got Rilka going on about the same things. Perfect match, those two."

"They--well, yeah. That's just it; they're right. " Jaques can't seem to think of anything else to add to that summary, though the thought makes him glum, to judge by the purse of his mouth. Eventually, he manages a shrug and moves along. "What are you doing up here, then? Kind of a hike."

"Crazy bitches," is Tom's assessment of them, made with a shake of his head: who knows. Who cares, maybe. he kicks a pebble towards the precipice, evidently aiming to send it hurtling off towards the water beyond; it stops short, a few inches from the edge. "Needed to get away? More bitches. Anyway, it works out, that you're here. I wanted to talk to you."

The kicked pebble, Jaques watches with more attention than it probably deserves, before he scoots over on the bench to make room for Tom to join him. For all the friendless in the gesture, though, his expression is guarded at best. "What do you want to talk about?"

Tomaeran accepts the wordless invitation, draping his long legs out in front of him as he sits. "Doesn't it seem weird to you, that people like you and me ended up married so young, while people like-- oh, say, Emmeline for example, are still unattached? We need unBlooded babies around here as much as we need Blooded ones, surely. It doesn't seem fair."

Jaques does not look reassured at all, when Tom starts to explain. He hesitates, and ends up leaning over again to put his elbows back on his knees. From that position, it's a lot easier to not look at his cousin and pretend he's really considering this. "That's just the way it worked out, Tom," he says. "And I'd say there's not much point in thinking about it, except you apparently got your one great wish, didn't you."

And, smugly, "And I didn't even have to do anything to make it happen." Liar. It doesn't show, though: all that smugness can bury a great deal. Tom wheedles, quietly, "I don't think it is just the way it worked out, though. /I/ think people like Emmeline - who have important skills, skills we need to keep - ought to be getting married and producing children as soon as possible. Seani, too, for that matter, now that she's helping Emmeline out."

Slowly, "I take your point," says Jaques, with a frown as he glances sideways at Tomaeran. "But I don't follow your motive. --Anyway, we all know why you had to get married."

Tomaeran sounds hurt. "Why do I need a motive? I think it's unfair, is all. I think - for the good of the community - they ought to be marrying, making babies, all of that. /I/ did my bit. You're at least married, even if you haven't produced anything." With his eyebrows raised like that, he looks like he's trying to look innocent.

Jaques corrects, "You had one pregnancy five years ago that didn't even make it to birth." He even holds up one finger, in case that will make it clearer for Tom. "There are plenty of them doing their part; just because there's one or two who haven't yet--. There's ones of us that aren't married or breeding yet, and that's both of us there." A beat. "Perhaps you can marry Emmeline, if you're so eager to help her do her part."

It's obvious from Tom's expression that this is not going the way he intended it to. He's known his cousin for how long, and yet-- "I'm not going to marry /Emmeline/. She has barely more Blood than Seani, shells. Anyway, she fell into the fire. She'll probably have scars forever, and that's got to be a turn-off."

Jaques lifts his shoulders. "You'll marry her if Da and the elders say so, same as with Seani. But don't worry, cousin; I doubt they'll shackle someone so undeserving to you again," he tells Tom dryly. "Who would you marry her to, then?"

"I didn't mind being married," remarks Tom, placidly, apropos of nothing in particular. "I wouldn't mind being married again, as long as she was the right kind of person." Blooded, primarily. "Anyway, I hadn't thought that far. I don't care, really. I just think she ought to be. It's the principle of the thing."

"You were awful happy to /not/ be married." Jaques doesn't push that point, though, instead falling silent for a moment and just watching Tom, in that occasionally disconcerting way of staring he sometimes has.

It's clearly making Tom uncomfortable. "Quit that," he complains, after a few seconds of it. "Yeah. I was awful happy to /not/ be married to Seani. For good reason. Can you honestly tell me you don't get why I would be? That in the same situation, you wouldn't be? Fishbones."

There's another long pause, where Jaques looks like he's about to say something and then the words don't really come out. Finally, he settles on, "Is my situation different?" like he's not quite sure himself after all this time.

"Would you be happy to not be married anymore? To Evie?" Tom counters that without pausing, brows raising in a way that suggests he expects he knows what the answer is.

At least this time, Jaques directs his dark eyes back at the misty ocean while he purses his lips and thinks. Then he admits, "I don't rightly know."

"You," says Tom, with a snort. "Lack imagination. I mean... you're obviously soooooo happy with Evie. Look at the two of you; the perfect couple. Two ki-- well, maybe not that. But a happy, cheerful family. Right? Right?" Beat. "Not right. Why the shells wouldn't you be happier, cousin-o-mine?"

"We're friends," answers Jaques. "Or we were. We were always close. Putting everything else into it is what messes it up. It's like fucking your sister. But isn't that what we're all doing, out here, by now? --D'you think Shimana's right about the Other One, too?"

Tomaeran doesn't have an answer for all of that, though by the way he nods without seeming to notice that he's doing so, he can't disagree. "Which bit? Seems like she's always opening her mouth to say /something/ about /someone/."

"About the world. Out there." Jaques jerks his chin toward the vast sea before them.

"I think..." Tom pauses, scrunching up his face in thought, his gaze seeking out the furthest points he can see through the fog. "I think some of what he says is probably bullshit; I think he probably exaggerates, because he can get away with it, and we're all too stupid to know. I reckon there /are/ deserts, though. It seems like... sometimes, the elders are too focused on preserving our way of life, but if there's something else out there... I want that instead. If it were possible. If someone wanted to come and find us." He falls silent after this speech, mouth pursed.

Jaques snorts. "Don't let Shimana hear that," he drawls, with a faint shake of his head. He sits back up, stretching his stiffened muscles awkwardly. "But that's it. It's them finding us. We have to hope on nothing, and wait. I'd rather he hadn't come here, come down to it. It's easier to bear that way."

"I try and avoid her whenever I can." Just in case, Tom glances around, as though the weather-woman might have snuck up behind them at some point. Thankfully, she hasn't. "Mm," he adds. "It's frustrating. It's unfair. Anyway," he sounds unhappy, "who's to say that they'd want to find us. Probably, they hoped we all died."

"There's that." Falling silent, the younger Blood ponders that a moment. "There's nobody left who knew us. Maybe none of them who know of us--can't see the Lord wanting the world to know we nearly took him out. He's dead, surely, but if whoever followed him wanted to come after us, they would have already."

Tomaeran makes a noncommittal sound, as though he'd like to believe otherwise, but after a moment more he has to admit, "They've probably forgotten us entirely. It's the most likely explanation. Mother says that her father used to tell stories about his older sister, who didn't come to the island with them. You'd think /she/ would have found a way to save us."

"I expect," says Jaques, "they're happy enough to have escaped our fate once, without risking it a second time." He stands then, stamping his feet a moment to warm them up from the chill that's set in while they rest. He doesn't bother much with goodbyes, but instead, as he starts for the path down, he notes, "This is why I'll stay with Evie."

Tomaeran's take on that is simple: "Bastards." He turns on the bench, swivelling his body around so that he can consider Jaques as he makes for the path. He doesn't seem to have a rejoiner to that last comment; instead, he shakes his head, once, twice, and then a third. "See you later, kid."