View source for True or False: Sheltered Edition

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==Log Info==

*Title: True or False: Sheltered Edition

*Emitter: Telamon

*Characters: [[Ravenstongue]], [[Telamon]]

*Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

*Summary: There's nothing better than a hot meal in winter, and Telamon's getting better at cooking skewers. He shares the skewers with his wife, Ravenstongue, and her familiar, Pothy, and the trio have a conversation over their meal about all manner of things... And then Pothy challenges Telamon to a little game of embarrassing factoids about Cor'lana's sheltered upbringing.</div>

''Lúpecyll-Atlon home, early evening.''

The day was cold and the evening is no better, with deep clouds hiding the stars and moon and the damp chill clawing at exposed flesh. But inside the Lúpecyll-Atlon home, it's warm and cozy, the fire stoked and the stove glowing merrily as Telamon works there. Over the coals, a dozen skewers are roasting chunks of chicken, vegetables, and mushrooms, while a loaf of bread is warmed. Tel is whistling as he rotates the skewers by hand, checking the contents by eye. "Almost there," he purrs.

Platters start to drift off the shelf, carried by an unseen servant to set the table, as he calls out, "Dinner's almost ready, love!" He checks around to make sure Pothy's not nearby and ready to try some larceny.

Of course, as Telamon goes to do that, a certain feathered bird lands on his head, cream-colored feathers almost matching the color of Telamon's platinum-blond tresses. "SNACKS!" he crows. Ravens. Whatever.

Until, of course, a little ruffle of something cold passes over Telamon's head, resulting in Pothy scrambling off and flying over to his 'timeout' roost of Cor'lana's shoulder. "Mean!" he protests in his boyish voice. "Lana, you almost made my tushy-feathers cold!"

Cor'lana huffs a little as she closes the gap between her and her husband, wearing a longer winter dress in a deep royal blue color that is a more recent acquisition. "Your tushy-feathers are fine, Pothy," she reassures him, and then she turns to Telamon and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "It looks good already, love," she says. "I can't wait."

Telamon starts when Pothy lands on his ''head'', but then Lana rousts the roosting familiar and he chuckles loudly. "We've talked about jumping around too close to the stove, Pothy," he says gently but firmly. "I can take the heat, but I'd hate for you to singe your feathers."

At Lana's kiss, he smiles, and gives her a kiss right back. "It smells wonderful," he says. "I admit I didn't use a lot of seasoning, but I was able to put my hands on some salt and mixed spices a while back. So we can season to taste as needed." He peers down into the stove. "And... I think these are done." A large platter floats over, and Telamon begins transferring skewers onto it. The platter is a steel one, clearly of dwarven make, and once Tel's done it floats to the table. "There'll even be enough for Pothy to have some."

Pothy grumbles some more from his spot on Cor'lana's shoulder, although he is placated when he gets a better look at the skewers. "I just was really excited," he complains. "I get to add another entry to my catalog of Telamon meals."

Cor'lana blinks a couple of times, turning her attention back to Pothy. "You have a catalog of... Dare I ask why?"

"Of course I do," Pothy replies brightly. "I keep track of all of the food I've ever been given by someone, and the someone is also noted down in a separate record so that I can cross-reference them if I need to. The more citations, the more I can account for something being historical record and--"

His yammering is only interrupted when Cor'lana walks over to the table and takes a seat, picking up a skewer and holding it out to Pothy for him to eat. "If he was any more chatty, I'd call him a parrot," Cor'lana remarks with a little smirk.

Forks are laid down next to the plates as well, as Telamon remarks, "He really is quite the glutton. But at least he's got good taste. He's your familiar." Deftly, Telamon picks up a skewer, and neatly strips the roasted chunks of meat and vegetables down its length to land on his platter. "You can eat off the skewer, but I generally like to just pull it off and eat it off the plate."

A bottle of wine lofts over next along with glasses, the wine bottle uncorking itself. "Remember the first time I showed you that trick?" he says with a smile, as the servitor pours the wine. "Almost a year ago, when we first moved in here." Now that the servant is done moving things, Tel hms. "If you want, I can have the servant hold the skewer for Pothy."

"That would be wonderful," Cor'lana comments, letting the unseen servant take care of Pothy as she takes her own skewer and follows Telamon's suggested directions, taking the meal off the skewer and onto a plate. She smirks a little as she adds, "Knowing my luck, I'd probably just pierce the roof of my mouth by accident."

She takes up her glass of wine and holds it out to Telamon, the smirk turning into a warm smile. Her violet eyes twinkle as she looks at him. "More importantly," she says, "it's been nearly a year since we began courting. Only two weeks and a few days away. And--now we are married. I'll happily drink to the fact you don't appear to have 'buyer's remorse' yet." A little giggle to accompany her tiny tease.

Telamon clinks his glass to hers. "Shockingly enough, no remorse. Actually... do you know what I feel most? Curiousity, Excitement. I want to see what happens next. It's like a good book, where you turn the pages eagerly, except I'm ''living'' it." 

The servant patiently holds the skewer for Pothy, as Tel continues, "What was it father said to me? Nothing will change and everything will change. We both feel the same way we did before, but now... it's even more intense and real. Tangible. And nothing will separate us." He takes a bite of his meal, and chews thoughtfully. "Could use a little salt, but turned out all right."

"So long as we manage to keep returning from our individual adventures," Cor'lana remarks with a little grin, "I think we'll be able to write a rather happy little book together. Maybe even an actual book, if you and I amass enough poems between the two of us that are about a particular topic."

She takes a sip of her wine and also tries the food, nodding a little. "A tad bit more salt, yes, but otherwise it's quite good, Tel," she remarks. "Pothy, what's your opinion--?"

Of course, she stops mid-sentence as she looks over and Pothy's already done. "It was a passable effort," he says. "Telamon is certainly no lady Liandra Branfeax, but then again, nobody else is." Oof.

Telamon grins. "I'm looking forward to writing that book. Metaphorically, of course, but literally too if we can manage it." He picks up the salt shaker, adding some to his meal before sliding it over to Lana. "Honestly, I was kind of worried about over seasoning it. You can always ''add'' seasoning, but removing it is a bit of a challenge."

He looks over at Lana's inquiry to Pothy, and then... blinks in turn. How... nevermind, it's Pothy. "...Well, in my defense: first time trying something like this. I mean... soup isn't that hard, compared to skewer-roasting. I don't expect to be trying to do cooking duels with Liandra anytime soon."

"I think the only one that might stand a chance against Liandra would be Grandfather," Cor'lana comments. "Or... Maybe Addy. I suppose that's not really a fair duel if you're pitting mother and daughter against each other, is it? It'd be like making me fight my mother at the height of her power. Neither of us would want to win, because it'd make the other person sad."

She looks at Telamon with a little smile. "That being said, we should probably make our way to the Rosalian Rose again soon. Hopefully we don't make a reservation on the one night we can't really leave the house due to a whiteout again."

"A cook-off between Grandfather and Liandra would be interesting, if nothing else -- Liandra's no-nonsense style against Grandfather's fey experience." Telamon mulls it over, sipping his wine. "I'll be honest, Liandra's reputation is -not- undeserved -- it is entirely possible Grandfather might -lose-. Which would certainly be a novel experience for him," 

"And, as you say, it wouldn't be much fun for either to pit Addy against Liandra. I'm sure Addy has her own ...competitions with her mother, but I'm sure they're friendly enough." Tel offers Lana another skewer politely, with a grin. "Another serving, dear? I know you don't need to eat, but still." Once that's done, he claims another skewer for himself.

Cor'lana takes the skewer that Telamon offers, grinning back at him. "Now that I don't have to deal with Aryia threatening me if I gain even half an inch on my waistline, sure," she replies. "I'll have to ask Addy next time when I see her again about if it ever gets tense between the two on account of their shared professions... I bet it's a friendly rivalry, though."

She goes about plating the food on the skewer as she remarks, "That's also a fun idea to consider... Grandfather losing at a contest. Honestly, I think he has before? You don't live as long as he does without losing at some sort of challenge."

Telamon shakes his head. "Grandfather has had a ''long'' time to practice. There's an interesting saying I heard from father once: an amateur practices until he gets it right, and a professional practices until they can't get it wrong. And I think Grandfather is very much a professional."

Another sip of wine. "However, he's also had years to become... hmmm... distracted. While Liandra is very much devoted to her craft at this moment. I'm not discounting Grandfather, but at the same time... Liandra strikes me as the sort who would pull out ''all'' the wands if she knew she was competing with a fey lord."

"She probably would," Cor'lana replies with a little grin. "I mean, we both met her. That woman is pretty tough--I'm sure if anyone's ever had the notion of elf women being dainty as they come, their minds change as soon as they meet Aryia or Liandra. Maybe both."

Pothy... burps. That gets a blink out of Cor'lana. "I take it that means you like it," she replies.

"Oh, that wasn't a real burp," Pothy replies with a little boyish giggle. "I just was bored."

His tail wags up and down as he looks at Telamon. "Hey. Wanna play a game?" There's a mischievous tone in his voice.

Telamon chews on a roasted mushroom, before responding. "Hah! Maybe not ''every'' elf woman is as tough as those two, but I know at least one who's quite tough in her own way." He gives Lana a pointed look, and a twinkle in his eyes as he grins at her. "Sometimes you have to play the angles a little differently, but still."

At Pothy's belch, Telamon snickers. "Complimenting the cook, are we Pothy? That's what I always heard it was called." He tilts his head, eyeballing the familiar askance. "A game? I really hope it doesn't involve making a mess, my friend."

There's a legitimate sort of joy in Cor'lana's eyes--of course, there was before, but it swells just a little more now as Telamon refers to her as an elf. "I'd normally make some sort of joke about only having half the toughness," she says, "but... I have to remind myself I am just as legitimately an elf as I am a human--no, just as ''we'' are."

She reaches across the table, presenting her hand for Telamon to hold. "I mean--I won't lie, Tel. That's sort of how our whole friendship began. Just running into someone who was more like me than I ever thought I'd ever find. I found your presence such a comfort that it was no surprise when I caught feelings only two months into knowing you..."

Then she looks at Pothy. "Oh, sorry, am I delaying your little game?"

Pothy just snorts. "Yes, but I'm going to make it even more painful now because you delayed it," he says, before he looks back to Telamon. "I get to tell you a fact about Cor'lana from before she met you, and you get to tell me if you think it's true or false. Lana is ''not'' allowed to influence your decision."

"The best of both worlds," Telamon points out with a smile, as his hand closes on hers. "Although I did make that terrible joke once about only being half able to be 'all ears'." His expression is merry and cheerful, as he lightly squeezes Lana's hand. "But yes. We are very, very much similar, despite our different beginnings."

He smirks at Pothy's slightly frustrated sound, but then he arches a brow at this new twist. "Oh, this should be interesting. How good of a liar are you when you're not holding a hand of cards, Pothy?" He steeples his fingers. "Alright, show me what you have."

Pothy looks at Telamon for a long moment, followed by a long look at Cor'lana, and then he says, "Okay. Here's a fun one. How many crushes has Cor'lana had on fictional men?"

Cor'lana immediately squirms a little in her chair, a blush coming to her face. "Oh, no, please," she groans. "He could have gone his whole life without knowing that...!"

Pothy looks at Telamon. "The number's in the hundreds," he says. "That's the only clue I'll give you."

Telamon gives Pothy a somewhat quelling look. "I'm sure, but that sort of number is impossible to just ''guess''. Remember, she told me she read a lot of books, and, well... you know this as well as I do."

He sits back, shaking his head. "So no, I know this is true. I'm just happy to be the man she found out here in the world, and married." He flicks a grin at Lana. "More wine, dear?"

"Wait a minute, that's right!" Cor'lana points out. "The rules of the game was for Telamon only to say true or false to a statement. There was ''nothing'' about guessing how many fictional men I've had crushes on!"

Pothy... stares at Cor'lana. "Oh," he says. "I guess I got ahead of myself. WELL... For the record, I do know. She had crushes on one-hundred and twelve fictional boys... To a variety of degrees. She liked some more than others."

Cor'lana rolls her eyes. "I don't think I can even remember all of them off the top of my head now," she says, before she looks back to Telamon with a grin. "You've done a very good job of putting all of them out of my mind--except for the one book about the mer-man, but that's because it was more ''ridiculous'' than anything else. I will happily have more wine, love."

Pothy grumbles for a moment--and then he fans his wings out. "Oooh. I have another statement," he says. "Lana was 17 when she ''finally'' learned about the birds and the bees. True or false?"

<pre><OOC> Telamon says, "Sense Motive on Pothy :)"
GAME: Telamon rolls detectBS: aliased to sense motive+3: (14)+20+3: 37
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Bluff: (7)+20: 27</pre>

Telamon finishes refilling Lana's wineglass, before topping off his own. "So she read a lot of books. Why make an issue of it? She was young. We all have childhood crushes and roads not taken." His lips curl up faintly. "For better or for worse, they make us who we are."

At this juncture, and Pothy's declaration, Tel fixes the bird with an inscrutable stare. Lifting his wineglass, he watches over the rim, before finally responding. "False. Nadina would not have sheltered Lana ''that'' much. She was a bit of an earthy soul, and I imagine the lessons were... somewhat discomfiting for Lana."

"That is right," Cor'lana says with a little nod, "although Mother and I didn't talk much in depth about it, other than that she told me not to rush it. She did tell me... one day, I'd get to live out in the world and be free, and when I got to that day, she hoped I'd be smarter than she was and pick people who were good for me. And not to accept drinks from strange men, but also advised that drinks from strange women had a fifty-fifty chance of being a good time or a really bad time."

She smirks a little at Telamon. "Of course, when I told her the only people I had interest in at that moment were fictional boys, she said, 'Oh, good, then there was no point in having that conversation.' And we went about the rest of our day."

Pothy snickers a little. "Nadi could be a little brutal when she wanted to be," he says. "Of course, she ''did'' say that with a smile."

"I'm just glad I measured up to... whatever fictional competition I had rattling around." Telamon grins back at Lana. "I can't imagine having to try and compete with some textual apparition who lacks any flaws at all." He finishes the last of his wine, and regards the meal's remains; not much, thanks to his own appetite, Lana's, and of course Pothy's. "Well. I've learned some things, at least. I'll look at seasoning the bits a little more next time. Everything was cooked through, though, which is what's important."

He gestures casually, and the unseen servant begins to tidy up, floating platters and skewers away to be cleaned. "And so, while we let my conjured helper do the dishes, we can discuss what kind of advice Nadina gave you, Lana." His smile is a touch mischievous, eyes twinkling.

Pothy snickers a bit. "Okay, I can take a hint!" he says, flapping on cream-colored wings into the study.

Meanwhile, Cor'lana grins at Telamon, taking his hand. "Hardly a competition, my love," she says. "After all, you can only read so many impossibly perfect men before you think, 'Nobody is out there like that. It's just a fantasy. Love isn't like that.' And... then you do meet someone who proves... Yes, the fictional men are fantasies, but only in that having your soulmate is so much more incredible than the books can say."

She plants a kiss on his cheek, followed by a deeper kiss to his lips, and she pulls back just long enough to say, "Well, Mother never gave me any advice, but I'll admit the books I read as a teenager were somewhat helpful in the 'advice' category..."

Thankfully for Telamon, it quickly becomes apparent that she didn't mean that he'd play the part of a mer-man. At least... Not tonight.

[[Category:Logs]]