Logs:Family Meeting
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| RL Date: 30 June, 2013 |
| Who: Various traders and heads of families |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: With all that's been happening, those residents of Pern that don't necessarily belong to Hold or Weyr discuss what might happen if they need to choose a side. |
| Where: The cellar of a cothold. |
| When: Day 14, Month 2, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: This is just to add a little color and flesh out another part of society as best I could. I have this idea of traders being kind of their own faction, so it might be interesting if they weighed in. This isn't a decision for the entire trader society, only the Renai part, so the others might still have a choice to make. |
| There is a room where they all meet, the heads of the families, when necessity dictates. It's a cellar room beneath a small cothold owned by a cousin. The room is cool and earthen, with wooden planking underneath and a large table set up in the middle with lots of chairs around it. In those chairs, and standing around them, are armed, seasoned men having a very serious discussion. They aren't all here, this winter night, just some of the smaller families, but the room is small and thick with bodies. "You heard what's happening, they're going to start wondering." "So let 'em. A little guessing game, keep 'em on their toes." "Not so good if they start deciding that who we back matters so far as keeping us safe and giving us haven. Those filthy poachers out there are getting bolder." "What care do we have for the Weyr, or the Holds. Thread doesn't fall, we live off our own." "Food has to come from somewhere, Shain. You want to be a farmer now?" Some of the men laugh at this, as if to be a farmer is some big joke to them. In the midst of that laughter, one strange voice says, "Gentleman." The voice is strange because it belongs to a woman, a woman with red hair she wears free to hang straight and do what it wants. Siobhan is ever the only woman to attend these meetings as head of her family, as she's always been since her father passed. The only woman that is other than her escort, her sister Harys, the quiet one with the dark hair and the ready hands. As she descends the stairs she continues, "Are we now the scornful people? People of scorn?" Her voice is calm but her dark eyes move sharply from one face to the other. One of the men pulls a chair free from the table for her but she dismisses it with a gesture. "Siobhan," the man at the head of the table greets her. "We're discussing the current state of the Weyr, specifically the sorta delicate situation they've gotten themselves into with the Holds, what that might mean for us." She lifts an eyebrow. "And I imagine it's come up how my son just so happens to be of the Weyr now." A tense silence settles. Siobhan smiles, not unkindly, but it's quick and then it's gone. "The Renais stand with the Weyr." "Siobhan-" "Was I not clear enough Gregor or are your old ears gone deaf? We stand with the Weyr." She begins to turn, to take her leave, when one of the men asks, "What about the Holds? What if they don't like us choosin' sides?" "Or the side we chose," another adds, with a chorus of murmured agreement and seconds, some of the men seeking for guidance, some of them who have already made their decision maybe now not feeling so confident. And Siobhan pauses, one hand lingering on the back of the chair, and replies, "Then fuck 'em." As if it's so obvious. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 01 Jul 2013 21:40:09 GMT.
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Damn. That is one tough lady. Go Siobhan!
It was really easy to picture the cramped little cellar, and fun to imagine trader faces to the words. I really enjoyed this. ^^
Zian (Zian (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 01 Jul 2013 22:10:44 GMT.
< "Then fuck 'em." As if it's so obvious.
Love it.
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