Family Dinner

Log Info

• Title: Family Dinner
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Verna, NPCs
• Place: The TarRaCe
• Time: December 15th, 2021
• Summary: On the reserved floor of the TarRaCe, Aryia is having dinner with two 'dawn elves' that have been following her around as of late. Verna arrives, and is invited up to the private party of three. Conversation takes place, light at first, but turns more of questioning uncertain family relations, as well as one's slight envy of what the three had. In the end, it is determined that family is what you make of it, and it need not be by blood. The dawn elves proceed to see how red-faced Aryia can get, and dinner goes on...

The TarRaCe, Evening.

It's another busy day in the TarRaCe, the icy grounds and frigid air making the place packed, and the recent news having folks more willing to have risky ventures into cups and coin.

Pulling some favors to reserve a private table on the open second floor, Aryia sits with two dawn elves with various plates of half finished food. The mute is imbibing a beer of some kind, while the other two daintily sip on glasses of red wine. They eye the mul'neissa woman with... minor disapproval. The mute raises a brow, catching their look, but they quickly go back to pretending to mull on their drinks.

Verna has not visited the TarRaCe often, though her visits were memorable and pleasant. As well, it is warm, dry, and, unlike the library, offers food and drink. Thus she enters the establishment, taking a pause to look over the available seating in order to choose one for herself.

"You... frequent this establishment often..." the woman dawn elf tests the waters.

The mute nods, casting her gaze out and settles on the door labeled for the bathhouse. They join in her gaze.

"Ah. That would make sense. You've always had a fondness for pampering."

Aryia squints at the older woman before a familiar grey moves across her peripheral. Her brows raise, and she rises to lean over the railing. A sharp, two note whistle rips across the TarRaCe to get attention. Ambience drops a notch, some looking to the balconies in confusion. But the mute ignores them, and once Verna looks up, she makes eye contact and beckons her on up.

Verna's hood cants up at the whistle, and the eyes and gesture she notes as a result explain all. She gestures a brief "Hello, and thank you." to the invitation before she moves to climb the stairs and subsquently approach the table. Once near, she offers a polite, "Good eve to you all. I trust that you are enjoying your visit?"

Aryia pushes out a chair for Verna as she approaches, the mute giving a light smile and a nod.

"Good eve, Mistress Verna," both the 'dawn elves' reply politely in unison. Then, it is Xarann that speaks for them. "Thus far. Z-.." he clears his throat, "Aryia has been showing us around the city as of late."

"Surprise to find out that she frequents..." Khalees trails off, looking for a proper word.

Aryia fills it in for her, "The Colloseum," she signs. "They weren't aware of what I do until I had to explain it to them." <Handspeech>

The father nods. "Yes. We must apologize for the way we acted before, Mistress Verna. Being called out as such is no safe bet these past years."

Verna doffs her hood and nods her gratitude to Aryia before taking a seat. "Ah, yes. That seems an appropriate location in which to train. As I understand, Aryia is quite the pugilist." Concerning the apologies, she lifts a gloved hand somewhat to halt or wave off the apology. "Your reaction was wholly understood. The intent behind my blatant statement was not to cause threat nor upset, but attempt to brook reaction to confirm the presumption. As well," she gestures the hand to Aryia, "for her benefit. I wished to make her aware, yet also leave her the decision of whether to reveal her own identity."

Khalees raises a brow, looking to Aryia. "... yes. She has yet to demonstrate anything to us. Yet it is certainly not the refined swordsmanship I taught her."

The mute's face scrunches slightly in pain.

Both parents make a faint 'ah' sound. "Sorry dear," the mother croons, then turns to Verna. "We are doing are best to not dwell on the past. Yet it is all we have."

For a moment, a faint crack in the noble poise shows between the two, gaze going distant before they shake it off.

Xarann speaks. "But, we have the now. Regardless, that was witful of you, Mourner. Wine?" he offers, picking up the bottle and hovering it over an empty, untouched glass.

Verna considers a comment, yet one parent, then the other, appear to make such unnecessary. When the wine is offered, her considerations shift. There is a briefest and sparest of glance given to Aryia as Verna recalls her prior offering of drink in the mul's presence before she nods to Xarann. "Yes, thank you." One glass shall not be an issue.

As she lets him pour, she offers in the pause, perhaps to all three. "I can imagine that this situation is quite ... novel to all of you, and perhaps difficult. I hope that none will take offense that I am pleased at this outcome, as opposed to the alternative.

Xarann pours a glass for the Mourner, him having to put the bottle down before handing the glass over. Aryia shares the look with Verna, a light, knowing smile twitching onto her lips.

That gets a sigh out of all three of them. "It is... certainly least expected of an outcome. We figured we would have been all the way in Rune before we got anywhere," Khalees explains. But, she gives a light smirk. "No offense taken. Z-" The mother stops, her having to close her eyes and take a breath. Hard to break a century of a habit. "... Aryia. Speaks highly of you. You two must be good friends."

"Thank you," Verna takes the glass from Xarann, belatedly making a note to keep his limb in mind in the future, as a courtesy. She takes a sips of the wine, perhaps for similar reason, before she nods to Khalees. "I consider us such, and think highly of her. I am not alone, and aware of a number of individuals whom I expect would consider her close friends."

Khalees raises both her brows at that last bit. "Oh? A social butterfly now, are we?"

Aryia pouts.

"You were one to be quite outgoing. To an excessive extent."

That seemed to spark some memory within the mute, her looking off to the side. Her eyes widen slightly, and her face burns.

The matron chuckles lowly. "Regardless. We appreciate that you find friendship with her despite all that has happened. And that you still speak with us despite... all that has happened." She purses her lips at that.

Verna does not comment upon the pout, the hue, nor a mother's comments that spark them. Instead, she addresses the latter comments. "Her past limits neither her nor my willingness to associate with her. Neither do I presume to know your full past. I know only of two who sought out their child across a span of decades. Is there some reason that I should shun parental prerogative?"

The two parents are silent for a spell. Gathering their thoughts. A very sildanyari thing to do, take as much time as needed to formulate a response. "Your admittance to helping restore some of her memories belie you being aware of our origins. And as such, our... unsureness of your disposition towards us," Xarann says to break the silence. He gives a deep sigh, and runs a hand through his crimson hair. His other shoulder moves too, yet no arm comes forth to complete the burying of his face into it. "Since the Lady left us... everything has been so uncertain."

It is now Verna's turn to take a spell to gather her thoughts. Perhaps a spell and a half, despite (or due to) her partial sildanyari heritage. "I am not aware of all, though neither do I find such especially relevant. Whatever your past and other interests or concerns may be, you are here, now. -For- her, perhaps." Her head nods to the side at Aryia. "Many families cannot do the same, or do not wish to, for various reasons. Thus I consider this a blessed opportunity for you all."

Both parents scowl faintly. "Of course we're here for her," they say in tandem, before Khalees simply shakes her head and smooths back her hair. The illusion breaks somewhat as a leather strap is adjusted on the side of her head out of no where, but it vanishes just as quickly. "Despite our... previous affiliations, family is still something dear to us."

It's rather clear that they were trying to not sneer or belittle, having been humbled a few pegs over the decades. "Though, we thank you for your kind considerations," Xarann admits, taking a small sip of his drink.

Khalees takes a moment to study Aryia, the mute's glowing gaze watching her father in an almost detached way. It really hasn't sunk in for her yet. Or... any of them. "Aryia, dear. We are curious. Has the shadows manifested within you yet?"

The pugilist blinks, her attention wheeling over to her mother. Her brows pinch tight, and she gives an uncertain nod.

This makes ruby painted lips split into a smirk. "Wonderful, it should be rather straightforward to help you with that, now that your father and I are here to-"

Aryia shakes her head, gesturing some. "I can't do what you two can. Not anymore at least," she elaborates. Mother glances to father for a translation, and his expression turns worried. <Handspeech>

"... ah..." he lightly sighs, looking into his glass.

Verna nods to Khalees at the statement of family. "Indeed, and I respect that. There are others for whom 'family' is barely a word." Her tone remains flat at that, or very nearly so, though she leaves it at that. With the continuing familial back and forth, she remains quiet; attentive, yet uncertain whether she should, or has place to offer comment, much less advice.

The two 'dawn elves' stare at each other for a few moments. Subtle movements between them: a twitch of a brow, a faint shift of gaze, a shoulder moving, all things that seemingly carry out a full conversation without any conversation in the slightest.

What seemed to be the straw was Aryia lightly rubbing the side of her head.

".... another time then," Khalees surrenders the topic. And with the grace of some centuries at playing politics, she expertly pivots to Verna. "I am sorry you are familiar with those that barely consider its existence. It is a hope that your time here has allowed you to garner your own definition for it."

"Indeed, it has," Verna nods to Khalees, regardless of whether the offering is genuine or simply out of politeness. "thank you. Aryia contributed, as well, regardless that she is not my own blood relation."

Aryia blinks owlishly at that, her looking over at Verna with a bewildered expression. ".... really?" she asks with a hand. The parents seem... amused by this.<Handspeech>

Verna turns to address Aryia directly, and does so with her hands. "You know more of my family than any other. That was the norm as I observed, though I did realize that such was not the norm here. The moment you and I shared your first recollection of yours..." She pauses a moment, then resumes. "You immediately wished to know more, and, I believe, wished to seek them out. It was ... not what I expected. I am rather ... envious of your position."

Aryia is busy parsing through the gestures Verna brings forth, her lips parting a few times to mention something or another, but it dies quickly on nonexistent cords as the mute's expression softens. One that Xarann picks up, as he too relaxes, seemingly allaying some latent worries.

The pugilist gestures slowly, "Family is... what you make it," she starts. "I guess that's why I felt like I needed to know more. And despite how much of I bitch I kind of was-" <Handspeech>

She glances to her father. He puts his hand up. "Your words, not mine."

The daughter snickers silently, and resumes, "-I guess I still missed them, or an old part of me did. Does. I hope that who ever you surround yourself with nowadays can help you sate that envy. Brothers and sister, mothers and fathers need not be by blood. I've... learned this." Her eyes gleam. <Handspeech>

Khalees leans in towards Xarann, brows knitted together in confusion. "... I am lost."

"Shhh..." the man softly hushes her, holding back a light smirk on his lips.

"Was?" Verna asks with a single gesture, though perhaps rhetorically; she continues without awaiting an answer. Instead, she nods at the logic, which she then expounds upon, "Nor does blood necessarily make one family in the most true sense. As well, yes, I believe that I now work to ... build my family. I am grateful for your part in that."

The rhetorical question is met with an answer of Aryia rubbing the side of her head. A blurring of memories. Perhaps a confusion of now-self and past-self. She does smile, however, giving a slow nod. "You are most welcome, Verna," she motions slowly, ending with putting a hand on the Mourner's shoulder. <Handspeech>

Xarann clears his throat, gaze downcast some. "Perhaps we should take similar advice. We strived to get our daughter back. Yet... it is not the same person. It will take... time. And desire, if she wishes to be brought into our fold once more. And... for us to do similar."

Khalees shakes her head, tutting with a little smirk. "Meet her all over again, to put it simply."

Verna returns with a hand to shoulder, giving Aryia's a pat before lowering it and turning to her parents. "When Aryia began to explore her memories, I advised that she is, now, who she is, regardless of who she was, then. Time and events have changed her, and yourselves, as they do us all. If I may, I believe that you both may be surprised, yet also quite pleased, to become familiar with Aryia."

The mother rests her chin in a hand, nodding to the Mourner with a slow dip. "Yes... that is something we will have to strive to work on. We shall keep your wisdom in mind."

A shadow rises slightly from the table, and falls against the wine bottle, shoving it across the table and into Xarann's waiting hand. "That being said," he smiles, blowing a stray crimson hair out of his face. "Let us take the time to get to know one another. Mistress Verna, you are more than welcome to join. The food here is...."

"Different," they both say, but the mother picks it up, "yet the company is quite well."

"Indeed, it is," Vern concurs (though she does not clarify whether it is for food, company, or both), retaking her wineglass and lifting it in a slight salute for emphasis before taking another sip.

Xarann's glass floats up on a rising shadow, Khalees with her own hand, and Aryia belatedly lifting her beer. "To new friends," the mother toasts before all take a sip.

She sets her glass down, then looks over at Aryia. "So. Aryia. Have you been... outgoing, with anyone in particular?" she asks, the tone having a couple layers of questions loaded in it.

The mute blinks, her face grows scarlet, and she stares into her almost empty bottle.

"... oh my. We must meet this person. I wonder what kin you wooshed up this time."

Her face grows redder.

"... wait. Who exactly..."

The mute starts to slide down into her chair, attempting to hide under the table.

"... Aryia..!"

Xarann breaks out into laughter.

-End Scene-