Stymied Vacation

Log Info

• Title: Stymied Vacation

• Emitter: Aryia

• Characters: Aryia, Aya

• Place: Alexandrian Shipyard

• Summary: Aryia's ship is impounded, throwing vacation plans up in the air. Her sister, Aya, and her happily catch up, only for more developments to make those plans further delayed.

Alexandrian Shipyards, Late Morning

"As you can see here, Miss Aryia, your ship's paperwork is outta order," the dockmaster informs, dressed functionally over form with a spyglass dangling from a lanyard as he thumbs through a sheaf of papers. The day is overcast and hot, but the waters calm on the docks. "I'm afraid it's going to be impounded here until you get it cleared up wit' the naval courts."

A scarred mul'neissa blinks owlishly at the dockmaster. "... what the fuck? I was gone for /two weeks/. I paid for the quarter!" she motions in frustration.

"Prorated until the end of the quarter," he elucidates with a raised finger.

A heavy slap echoes from Aryia, her dragging her hand down her face. "... fucking.... fine," she gestures to them.

Finishing up some minor legalese, she gives a halfhearted wave in departure as she turns to her sloop, it bouncing idly in the dock, the paint of The Balance looking a tinge unkempt. She furrows her brows. Stupid legal technicalities. A quick hop lands her on the deck, the captain aboard as she rummages around for a broom stowed away. Minor hissing and under breath cursing readily and easily heard.

There are fewer and fewer places that Aya might go within the city and the most likely are also the most... uncomfortable. Thus, despite the haze and heat (or perhaps to mitigate it), she walks along the pierway. It is cooler, at the least, along the water, and the docks are far less filled with jubilant (and noisy) children than the Tornmawr banks.

She is in no great hurry at present, nor does she appear focused upon any one external thing. Of all the bustling noises about, it is the sharp stacotto slap that draws her attention. It is the sight of the familiar craft, and her caption aboard, though, that keeps her attention there. A new course is set to intercept.

Captain Aryia seems to be venting her frustration out on the deck, sweeping away buildup and debris from idle storms and knocking the broom on the edge to clear the bristles out. She looks up and over to give one final glare to the retreating dockmaster, but instead she finds someone else.

She blinks.

The broom is tossed over shoulder (but thankfully not overboard), Aryia scrambling out of the boat and approaches Aya at speed, arms outstretched and looking to latch on. Or to toss. Probably the former. Probably.

Aya must assume the former, or is not disinclined to the latter, as she does not make herself a difficult target. Despite her prior perturbed introspection, the sight of the incoming sister curls one half of her lips upwards. This is not to say she does not prepare at all for the impending impact; she does shift one foot rearwards to brace and opens her own arms.

It is good that Aya prepared herself. As Aryia makes no effort to slow herself, the mute all but leaping and crashing into open arms. She whole heartedly latches on.

A long moment passes before she pulls enough away to look at her sister, shiny eyes gaining a mist to them. "W- d-d -t!" she hisses, grinning in a warbled manner.

• THUD*

It is not sparring, nor striking stone, but it is still a signifcant impact. Aya does not let her sister rebound (not that she needed any assistance in that regard) as she catches. After the moment and Aryia meets her gaze and whispers, Aya nods in agreement.

"We did." The half-smile remains, and there is joy in it, though it is not as fully reflected in her eyes as Aryia's is.

Aryia bobs her head briskly, it quite clear that despite whatever was going on at the docks was insignificant in the grand scheme. She looks quite... how does one put it? Less angry? Impossible. Perhaps more at peace? Perhaps that, the constant scowl wasn't present, shoulders lax, smile easier and more forthcoming.

But it droops a tinge. Extracting herself from the embrace, she motions and signs in a relaxed manner. "I certainly am fucking glad that shit is over. Obviously not... over over. How are you feeling, after all of that?" <Handspeech>

Aya exhales a sigh with the release. "I am glad it is gone. Elated..." though her tone doesn't match the claim, "... but there is still so much to ... finish it all. I don't know if I can, sister, or how to even start."

A wave of perplexion crosses Aryia's face. "Finish what? It's dead. The celestial task is done. Daed still needs... time of course- actually, I have more clothes for him, but that's not here nor there- but he'll come around."

Her head tilts to the side, hair shifting to droop over a shoulder. "What else do you still have to do? Save for our Aknorill trackdown, I figured you're... done." <Handspeech>

Aya's half-smile fades to a more grim line and she nods. "Daed," she confirms quietly as she meets Aryia's gaze before hers lowers. "I have yet to tell him. I do not know how to tell him. Whether I should be the one to tell him. He still believes..." Her words trail off and a breath is take to replenish them with replacements, "He may not believe me."

Aryia raises a brow and crosses her arms. "... this is what's getting you hung up?" she gestures in her usual blunt manner. "He still believes what? The thing that held him in Hell is still around? Sister, we just fucking killed it. Dead. Done. Ash. If he doesn't believe you, then he doesn't believe you."

She shrugs her shoulders. "It's going to take a lot for you two to get back to where you two were. Shit, it won't be the same, that's a given, trauma does that. But you two can still work through it." <Handspeech>

Aryia's choice of words (as they are) pushes Aya's expression fully to scowl. While her response is now empathic with ire, that isn't the only emotion behind it. "He isn't convinced that I am -me- and not the fiend Cor'lana destroyed. That I am a trick, a lie..." Her volume is low for that despite the emphasis. "The fiend that held him is still out there. It wasn't the same one! They passed him around like some ..." her hand waves, not in gesture, but anger and frustration, "fiend marketplace! He spoke of his mother being tortured. I don't know if it was real or some illusion, but..." That she isn't keen on taking that change isn't said aloud.

"The fiend that held him is still-"

Aryia steeples her hands together, closing her eyes as her relaxed demeanor shifts to a more familiar tension. Her jaw flexes. She breathes deeply In. Out. Her hands splay out, like she was dropping something. "-k-y," she simply huffs before murmuring and pushing an empty bucket over beside her with a boot. "F-g-r-d w-'d b- d-n- w-t- th-s -nd c-n g- -n - b-t v-c-t-n..."

She refocuses back on her sister. "That changes, well, fucking everything," she dryly admits. A moment to take in everything, then, "Unfortunately I don't think him believing you will be fixed without anything but patience. I cannot... remember if his mother and him are on good relations?" <Handspeech>

Aya eyes the bucket only briefly before accepting it (and taking it) as the offered seat that it is. Her hands rest on her lap before her, wringing each other absently as she speaks. "I tried to find her at that manor... but I have never met her." She realizes what she is doing with her hands and forces them to stop, focusing on Aryia. "The home he, we, had in the city was his mother's, a gift to him. She is llyranesi. His grandmother drove her away, exiled her. His mother is the only family he is close to... but I do not know when he last visited or spoke with her."

Aryia's idle attention has shifted to the sloop that gently bobs beside the dock, gaze tracing the name painted on the hull in eggshell white. It's clear she's listening, were her twitching ear anything to go by. "So we do that same song and dance again," she gestures. "But I guess, if someone has her and she's not dead, then they're going to expect the Scry, Pry, and Fly tactic."

She rubs her face. "At least your demon isn't around anymore, so the more targeted things should abate. Now it's just finding the pieces." <Handspeech>

Aya simply nods in response, with a wince at the possibity of dead mothers. Her eyes are somewhere between the pierboards and the lapping water and she is quiet for long moments as she ponders the pieces. So many of them. Finally, she looks back up to her sister. "I must tell him, and ask more of his mother, so that we might find her."

There is another pause before her gaze focuses more upon Aryia. "Or I might. You don't need do more if you don't wish to."

Aryia bobs her head along in agreement with Aya, the course of action given a thumbs-up of approval. "Up to him if he believes you, but I think speaking of his mother may get him out of that shell of disbelief."

A pause. One that Aryia uses to take a step onto the edge of the boat and delicately balance herself to step along it. One foot in front of the other before she plods down to sit, feet dangling off over the waters.

The cop-out is met with a stern look. "As much as I tire of demons and their bullshit, I am with you through it all. You and Daed deserve peace. I /was/ in fact planning a trip to the Jade Isles, and was going to invite the two of you. But-" She shrugs. "There is apparently more shit to do." <Handspeech>

Aya's brows lift at that. She did not miss the half-mention of a boating vacation, before, but did not realize it was such an all-inclusive offer. This thought softens her scowl back to half-smile. "All the more reason, then, to get shit done. We are all overdue for time for ourselves and a change of scenery." Especially Daed.

There is a further bemused twist to her smile as she looks over the craft more fully. "Is there room enough for two separate cabins? There is such a case as seeing too much new scenery..."

Aryia gives a deep bow of her head in a nod. "I have a list of places to sail to," she informs. "Alexandria is nice, but despite as much time at sea as I have been, I really haven't sailed to many places."

The mute looks back at the sloop behind her. It doesn't have much, the trapdoor behind the mast leading to a single room in the hold that as at most five hammocks in a cramped space where supplies are squirreled away. She snorts, turning back to Aya. "Best I can do is run a curtain down the middle in the hold. But that's cutting an already cramped space in half. The Balance will get us there, it is no luxury cruise. Extra scenery is going to happen, but please leave extra, non-boat activities for land," she gestures, sticking her tongue out at her sister. <Handspeech>

There. That actually sparks a laugh from Aya; brief but also cathartic. "I will do what I can, but I make no promises, -Admiral.-" After reminder of the cramped spave, she admits, "I think Daed would prefer the sun and fresh air above deck, at any rate." It is an innocent statement, until reality creeps back in; not to refute it, but more sober reasons to make it more valid.

Aryia smiles, getting a laugh from sister was something she missed dearly. She rolls her eyes at the title, letting her boot droop down to lazily kick sea water in Aya's direction. She nods once. "I can move a hammock to be on deck, easy enough to do," she signs easily. "Might need an umbrella though, unless you like your man crispy from the sun." <Handspeech>

Aya snorts, more at the comment than the splash; one could be taken as insult while the other is mildly refreshing. Her hands lift to reply silently, "I faced his grandmother and demons... I'll not let him be harmed by something as simple as the sun, sister." As it was refreshing, she extends her toes down to catch some of the watch to flick in Aryia's direction. She is only sharing.

"I'll just punch the sun for you two," Aryia jokes, taking the retaliatory splash with a chuckle. She looks up towards the burning ball, pushing her shades closer to her face. "That's a fucking joke, Daeus." Despite her stance on such things, ever since her discussion with Vardama themselves, she's more keen on covering her rear.

She sighs, letting her shoulders drop and lightly smiling. Not as much as before, but feeling like progress is being made. "Perhaps we find his mother and take her on vacation too. That would certainly guarantee my sanity," she half teases before getting up to stand on the edge of her boat. "Jokes aside, I am with you. As I always have, and always will be. I may bitch, I may moan, but I love you, and I want you to be happy," she signs, finishing with her hands on her hips. <Handspeech>

Aya rises up after, eyeing her standing on the edge of her ship. Not that she would ever believe there is any danger of her falling, or that doing so into the water would be any danger. No, that isn't the reason she steps up to wrap her arms around Aryia. "I know, Aryia... and I would not prefer you any other way. Just know that it is same in both directions. You will need to stop carrying me some day... or does holding that over me make you happy?" Self-deprecating humor? That is a bit new, but the rest of her words are no less earnest for it.

Aryia blinks as arms reach forward to hug, the mute leaning forward to keep her balance she readily returns the embrace. She gives her sister a firm squeeze in the hold before pulling back enough to speak. Well, she snorts, then motions in the space between them, "As appealing as holding that over you is, no, I hold nothing over you. We are equals."

She pauses. "I like to think I am not carrying you. But rather, I am there to catch you if you fall, stumble, look back. There will be a day where that won't be a thing, we both are young still. But until that day, we build and support each other to be the best self we can be." <Handspeech>

"Then we carry each other," Aya affirms, her smile growing wide as she snugs up the semi-separated hug they share. It is genuine, but there is also a familiar twist of wry. Which might be related to her taking upon herself to do more of the carrying at the moment with a step or two aft along the edge. Once where there is more gap between boat and pier, she begins to pitch backwards; mostly parallel to the hull with her back tipping towards the gap and water below. A test to see whom supports whom? Sororital solidarity? Sacrificial soaking? Whatever it is, there is also a wink.

Aryia nods, warmly returning the genuine hug. There's some shifting, her adjusting as well. She tries to pull back, but only gets far enough to see the wryness. The wink.

The mute blinks.

Thus now begins the flailing. "-h y-u f-ck-ng- s-st-r-!" she hisses as the tipping goes full tilt.

• SPLASH*

-End Scene-