Logs:A Turnday Luncheon
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| RL Date: 11 September, 2014 |
| Who: B'ghero, Baeli, Baera, G'laer, Gaela, Gaelan, Gallania, Ghena, Leara, Nieri, Raleri, Riola |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The B'gherio-Gallania clan are gathered for Ghena's 18th turnday luncheon. G'laer tactfully delivers bad news. |
| Where: The Family Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 10, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aleghra/Mentions, Gheara/Mentions, Laghnei/Mentions, Laneri/Mentions, Oliwer/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Way back-dated. Collab vig/scene. Family by G'laer. I like icons. Shh. |
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| "Gran is dead." G'laer's voice was even, for all that the woman raised him after his twelfth turnday and gave him every ounce of kindness that he still possesses. Yet another perfectly predictable family get together ruined by G'laer. Arguably, this news wasn't really his fault like some of the other times he's put a screeching halt to good cheer and family friendliness. It had begun normally enough. Kozeranth was sprawled across the large family ledge with his usual feline dedication to taking up as much of the sunny thing as possible and simultaneously making it as difficult as possible for everyone else attending Ghena's eighteenth turnday lunch to land. But there's comfort in familiarity. It took B'gherio bringing the bucket, always on hand for such occasions, and a few flicks of the water at the brown to finally convince him the sun wasn't worth that kind of annoyance. B'gherio, as per typical, earned a vexed hiss for his efforts. Once the ledge was clear enough for the other dragons to land, they came and deposited their passengers before circling long enough to wait to play musical ledge spots. Only Kozeranth didn't deign to move. Baeli is first-born and first to arrive, besides the youngest three and Baera, who despite her twenty turns, was still content to live at home, and her mother was only too glad to let her. Baeli's skin is tanned and has nothing but good things to tell of her life at Southern Weyr since the last time she was here. Riola was late, as usual, the bone-thin Cekath alighting only long enough to let her leap from his neck before winging off again; he never was the social type. Riola had no new broken bones this time, so that was something, but had news of the happenings of Telgar where she makes her home. Laghnei, never one for politics, would be glad that she missed that, at least. If G'laer had told her the nature of the news, she likely would've found a way out of her afternoon sweeps with Avalanche, but as was, he would tell her later. Neither of their crafter sisters, Laneri at Healer or Aleghra at Harper were able to attend, but, not for the first time, the twins, Leara and Gaelan had elected to join the family affair. For all that they cared nothing for their father, their grandmother had charmed them and Nieri was of an age with them. All three had spent the better part of the meal discussing their future plans. Nieri had been invited to Southern Weyr to spend the turn with Baeli and would be leaving later that month, but was still thinking she might apprentice with the Smiths in another turn or two. Why rush out of childhood? Gaelan was of a mind to rush, but kept his plans quiet. Leara chattered brightly about Healer and her prospects for an apprenticeship there. So that much and more had passed between them all as 'happy family' before turnday girl Ghena's favorite fruit had been served as dessert. It was after that, just as Riola began to beg her leave from their mother that G'laer had stood and with no more warning than, "There is news," delivered the sad tidings to a then-stunned audience. There were tears of course and G'laer delivered the letter given to him solemnly into his father's hands. For those that were looking, there was a brief but distinctly pained look when B'gherio, who had once been Bagherio of Crom, but who had always been and would always be Gheara's boy, excused himself and took flight with his Kozeranth, who did not fight him when he came to the ledge but rubbed his nose against his lifemate's head before the man mounted up. Gallania was obviously torn between being there for her weyrmate of over thirty-five turns who had lost his mother, and her children, who had lost their grandmother. G'laer turned more than one head when he stiffly wrapped her in an embrace and quietly murmured, "Go." She went, leaving G'laer to hold down the emotional fort and mind the little ones. These were extraordinary circumstances. The sisters splintered into smaller knots for quieter conversation, and G'laer sat at the large table, expression free of emotion but eyes watchful. A few turns ago Ghena might have gotten irritated with his choice of location for divulging such news, but it wasn't as if he could help the timing, as the normalcy dissolves. She just sighs, "Hopefully it was painless at least." Having all the emotion of a potato, as she glances about for the twins, and those who were all closer to the woman than she had been. Plopping somewhere between her brother and the twins she tilts her head at him. "You going to be Ok?" Knowing he was the one who had been the closest. The twins are engaged in quiet conversation with Nieri, knotted at the childrens' end of the table, and the bunch, which includes an annoying Gaela, who, at two turns younger, just wants to be included in the discussion those two important turns beyond her, and eight turn old Raleri who just-- wants to do something other than talking, which is just so boring. Of the lot, they, and Raleri seem the least affected, but then did any of them really know Gran beyond turnover presents that were never quite what they wanted to receive? G'laer's eyes flick toward them only briefly; they're not getting into mischief and that's all he needs to worry about while Baeli, speaking quietly with Riola some distance away and Baera? Who knows if she even heard him make the announcement with the way she's still slouched in her chair, gazing dreamily at the weyr's ceiling. When Ghena sits, G'laer turns his head slightly to regard her. "I'm fine." Of course he is. His impassive look is really one of his best; no knowing what's going on behind it, of course. Right which basically is G'laer speek for like hell, or at least that is how Ghena choses to interpret the stoicism. "She raised you." brows furrowing as she tries to say something useful. Hazel eyes drift to the others in the room, "Thought she was going to live forever." She seemed the sort after all to out stubborn death. Looking back to her brother she shrugs, "So you always seem to be." "No one lives forever. Most of us are fortunate to have survived this long," G'laer says with his usual cuddly grace. The bluntness has Gaelan's head turning away from the knot of kids, an act which pulls his attention and he raises his brows challenging at the twelve turn old. It's no secret that while G'laer and Leara share a tense but semi-functional relationship as father and daughter, Gaelan and G'laer's is beyond broken and fucked up. This is normally the point where Gallania would sweep in to distract and deter unpleasantness, especially now, but Gaelan is likely too young and stupid to know his danger. He pushes his chair back and approaches father and only-a-handful-of-turns-older-than-him aunt. "I want you to get me into the guard." Like his father, Gaelan is painfully direct at times. He's not looking at Ghena, but the words are shocking enough that it shows on G'laer's face as he sits up - perhaps intending to rise, and his expression darkens. "No." A promising beginning to yet another lovely father-son chat! It's Gaelan who breaks the track of whatever she'd been about to say. "Come on you don't want to be a guard, that is what you get when you become a guard. No fun face. Permanently." Gesturing to G'laer, generally. "Come on, we'll go find something to do." Something more fun than possible pending violent outburst from G'laer. "Dragonridings more fun anyway." "Joining the guard is an honor," Gaelan snaps at Ghena and her argument with all the fervor a twelve turn old boy can offer. "I want to join. You can get me in," he looks accusingly at G'laer. Can, and it seems, won't. "You're an idiot. You don't know what you're asking for, boy." The greenrider's voice is harsh. So much paternal love in this room! Leara. Nieri and the others have gone silent and are staring. Baeli is moving over to lay a hand on her little brother's shoulder. "Gal," it's a steadying word. Azurite eyes jerk up to the eldest's calm face. He grunts and rises. "This isn't over!" Gaelan half-shouts at his father. "Yes, it is." And there's threat in G'laer's response. Baeli squeezes his shoulder. "I'll stay, you go," her words are quiet but insistent. Without another look at Gaelan or Ghena, G'laer is stalking toward the ledge and the landing Teisyth. Baeli sighs and drops into the seat G'laer just vacated, using a boot to knock out the seat across from Ghena for her nephew. "Gaelan, why don't you sit down. Ghena, why don't you tell Gaelan why you like being a dragonrider." Really, Laneri, their healer sister, is the true peacemaker in this family, but Baeli does a decent impression of giving a shit despite her life being so far removed from the rest by both her thirty-six turns and her life existing so solely and happily, it seems, in Southern Weyr. Gaelan bridles a moment but Aunt Baeli wins the staredown and he sits, not looking at Aunt Ghena. "Or we could just tell him the truth. That the guard is why his dad is - not quite right." Looking over at Baeli as words fail her. "Why do you want to be a guard Gaelan, I mean really is it something you've thought about?" focusing her attention on the twelve turn old. If her mother ever wondered why Ghena didn't want children, this was it right here, she simply isn't cut out for parenting or aunting as the case may be. Still anything's worth a shot once, and it's with a sort of puzzled expression that her attention is focused. Baeli regards her much younger sister with raised brows. Unlike G'laer, Ghena didn't grow up with Baeli as she was already out of the weyr and Impressed to Hezalth by the time the younger girl was born. "Well, aren't you just an expert on the subject. Do tell." She invites the bluerider to dig her-- er, elaborate. This, just as Gaelan is rolling his eyes at his aunt. "Being in the guard is just about the best job a boy could get," when a boy hates dragonriders as much as he does. The way he says it suggests everyone knows that to be the case. Rather than elaborate or anything else, and with a definite eye roll for Gaelan, Ghena just sighs. "Well he can't have been born that cold, is all I mean." She frowns, standing to dust herself off. "Right well kid, thing is being a guard makes you harder, colder. Every guard I've ever met has had something of a sour or surly disposition. If you want to be that, by all means run off when you are old enough and join on your own." Best kind of advice here, Ghena advice, which is undoubtedly not good advice. "Don't mind me though I'm just the resident idiot." Her gaze goes somewhat distant, the kind of distance that comes with having a dragon no doubt. Baeli might have been about to comment on the first when Gaelan's derisive snort cuts in for Ghena's words. "Shows what you know, dragonrider," the way he sneers is enough to make it sound like a dirty word. "The Crom Guard is the best," so sayeth the twelve turn old who came from a tiny holding that raises porcine. "They don't take just anyone. You have to be recruited, to get recruited you have to know someone. He's an asshole, but he's someone with them." And that's it, Baeli is rising and her fingers reach out to pincer the boy's ear and haul him up from his chair by it. "Apologize to your aunt," is her grim instruction. Maybe G'laer was cold and hard before he joined the guard; Baeli doesn't seem to be showing much warmth and affection just now. "Baeli let the poor kid's ear go. An apology made on point of pain isn't much of an apology. Although that language. I'm amazed he doesn't have a mouth full of soapsand." Grimacing at the wicked ear pinch, as though she's speaking from personal experience. "Yeah kid, sure. Whatever. At least I get to go anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. Oh yeah and I have a giant firebreathing menace to back me up. Knioth can roast a crom guard at 30 paces, and leave grass unscorched on either side." Surely Knioth isn't a menace except when he's wooing fair maidens. "People wonder why I don't want to have kids. Geesh." Probably because Ghena still is very much one. Baeli has never been governed by her siblings; maybe it's a thing that comes with being first, and she doesn't now, holding Gaelan's ear firmly. "Sorry, Aunt Ghena," comes through gritted teeth while wincing. The brownrider release him with a final exertion of pressure. The not-quite-teen looks like he'd like to say something in answer, but Baeli's right there, and he knows better than instigate a repeat. So he just stalks off toward the others, who have all carefully averted their gazes, such smart girls! This leaves Baeli to look at Ghena, "If you ask me," which she didn't, "we ought to fly him over to Crom ourselves and drop him on the guard's doorstep. They'll straighten him out without soapsand. And really, would you want a wingmate like him?" That she says this loud enough to make Gaelan's cheeks color in spite of himself can be no mistake. Isn't public embarrassment a good way to encourage good behavior? Maybe there's a reason Baeli doesn't have kids either. That none of them do, save G'laer. "Probably wouldn't be a half bad idea except G'laer might murder me in my sleep for it." Ghena sighs, "You are right of course, kid couldn't cut it." She scrubs the back of her neck anxious. Not exactly the way she expected Turnday dinner to go. "Think Dad will be ok?" Ignoring the 12 turn own completely now, scuffing the stone floor with her boot, awkward as ever. "G'laer never really was very good at delivering bad news." Like she's been around him enough to know... yeah no. "I'll take the blame, if you like," Baeli offers. Not that G'laer couldn't find her in Southern, but perhaps she has less fear of 'little Gal' than the younger sister. Her gaze strays toward the ledge where B'gherio was last seen. "In time. But, would you be? Right away? If Mom kicked it?" She shrugs her shoulders. "Probably worst for G'laer and Dad since they knew her best." Though Baeli had her tears when the news was fresh, along with many of the others. "At least he's direct," she says with a sigh, reaching to rub fingertips across her brow. "Is there ever a good way to break the news? Even if it were expected..." And it wasn't; there was no lead up, no slow decline that they were aware of. She was just gone. "I don't know, never really thought about them just suddenly not being there." rubbing the back of her neck, with a deep sigh. "I'm more worried about the immediate ok. Grief does funny things to people Dad's got Mom to get him through it, I guess G'laer has Ollie, but I don't know if that's going to be enough." She frowns, "I thought she was getting pretty up there in years?" It's with a sigh that Baeli nods. "She was." The eldest sister looks down the table to the younger ones. "Well, one heck of a turnday present anyway." She shakes her head. "Want to take the younger ones--" she probably doesn't mean Gaelan who probably wouldn't want to come anyway, "And head down to Southern to the beach for the rest of the afternoon?" A beach with lots of sun has to be better than sticking around the weyr now that the true owners of it have taken their leave. Ghena frowns. "To be honest Baeli, I want to go get plastered in the riders lounge and forget about the whole thing." She frowns, "But I can help keep the younglings in order if you like, and Knioth wouldn't mind someplace warm." Baeli's smile is there, if sedate. "Nah." It warms a touch, "Go get shitfaced. It's your turnday." She'll even shift to place her hands on Ghena's shoulders as she sits and give what might be described as an affectionate squeeze. "Don't forget your gifts." The small pile set on a table off to one side. Then she's moving to herd the rest toward the ledge, recruiting Riola and Cekath in Ghena and Knioth's stead for the southern expedition. Soon enough, they're loaded up and away. Gaelan is convinced by Leara to come along, and perhaps Baeli hopes he'll meet a hungry jungle cat, but who can say. They're soon between, leaving the big family weyr strangely empty, save the turnday girl herself. |
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