"Nothing to apologize to us about."
Ruarc's voice came softly as he considered the wood of the rocking chair beneath his hand. Perhaps it was the situation as a whole that had got to him, but the exchange between mother and daughter had got to him a bit. With his gramps gone, and Connell putting his own interests ahead of his son, Ruarc's mother Saoirse was the nearest and dearest blood relation. He still remembered when he had told her about being ordered to go to Japan, and how she had been when he came home for the first time after a couple of years. She had put up a strong front, and never lost the stonewalled composure of an Irish matron; but her eyes always looked so sad when he left, and her hugs were extra strong. It took only a little bit of imagination to picture how she would be if Ruarc took off one day like his father had. He felt sympathy for Eleanor, and lowkey began to wonder about the logistics of paying for Eleanor to take a vacation to stay at his mother's inn; but that was little more than being fanciful, and not what the woman needed right now.
"Homecomings can be difficult. Especially after so long. Give her time and the space she needs," Ruarc offered what he could to the matter. Whether the attempt at advice would be welcome was yet to be seen, but as the main person present with a good relationship with his mother despite visiting so infrequently; he figured he would try.
[Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Eryl had almost picked herself up from having made her outbursts with help from Laoise’s appreciation before it all came tumbling down again. Her shoulders became more and more stiff as her emotions rose, and she froze entirely when Eleanor quit the field for the kitchen. Internally, she began to scream, considering the emotional torpor she thought she had summoned. This is why she kept her opinions to herself, she thought… but would she have been happy just letting those insults slide? She knew she looked like a dainty door-mat, but she had honor, damn it. Her mind began to race, arguing with three different versions of herself in her head, until Ruarc began to speak again.
Time… We all just need time.
Still physically tense, she reached over and gripped Jane’s hand. “Ruarc is right. I think your mother… Your mother may need… time to come to terms with the fact that you’re… you’re no longer ten years old.”
Unlike Jane and Ruarc, Eryl’s parents had passed away a long time ago, and, while warm, her relationship with her father had always been distant, and her mother’s love had always been conditional. She only understood the modern family in the way her mentor had described it to her, rather than what it had been. Yet, Eryl had seen that look before, that pained expression that a parent can only know when they’ve missed the most important parts of their child’s life. Every time her father returned from campaigning, he had worn something similar. That pain was unique.
“When we’re children, our parents never change, but to them, we are changing irreversibly. I’ve never understood it, but only known that it hurt the people I loved that could not be there for it. We may be asking a lot of her right now, not just for her hospitality.”
Tears started to form at the edge of her eyes, as her own voice began to crack, “I’m sorry. I chose to needle such a delicate situation, dear. This is my fault.”
Time… We all just need time.
Still physically tense, she reached over and gripped Jane’s hand. “Ruarc is right. I think your mother… Your mother may need… time to come to terms with the fact that you’re… you’re no longer ten years old.”
Unlike Jane and Ruarc, Eryl’s parents had passed away a long time ago, and, while warm, her relationship with her father had always been distant, and her mother’s love had always been conditional. She only understood the modern family in the way her mentor had described it to her, rather than what it had been. Yet, Eryl had seen that look before, that pained expression that a parent can only know when they’ve missed the most important parts of their child’s life. Every time her father returned from campaigning, he had worn something similar. That pain was unique.
“When we’re children, our parents never change, but to them, we are changing irreversibly. I’ve never understood it, but only known that it hurt the people I loved that could not be there for it. We may be asking a lot of her right now, not just for her hospitality.”
Tears started to form at the edge of her eyes, as her own voice began to crack, “I’m sorry. I chose to needle such a delicate situation, dear. This is my fault.”
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Jane groaned as she stood up. "Made a right mess o this," she murmured, irate with herself. A half dozen long strides took her to the front window. She stared out and tried to sort her thoughts.
Greater than her irritation was her resentment of The Director. She knew why she was back now. Sundry Valley was ripe for drama. Thirteen years. What a perfect number for him. Thirteen years abroad- over half her life. She understood her mama's grief, at least at a logical level. She'd never been a mama herself, but the thought recalled a dream, or... Was it a dream? No. No, it had been a future. She had witnessed it in Fate's Loom, staring at the walls. She shook her head to clear it.
Mama also mentioned something about trouble at Gravesbottom. It made Jane uncomfortable; she was certain she'd hazed that hive. True, thirteen years was plenty of time for new pests to swarm, but she had a sick feeling it wasn't that simple.
Eleanor returned to the room with her tray, a second refreshment for her guests, and an accompaniment of carrot cake. Her eyes were red, but the Smiths were hardy Western women; the pair had no difficulty ignoring signs of emotional duress in pleasant company. Life was tough; get up and get on with it.
Greater than her irritation was her resentment of The Director. She knew why she was back now. Sundry Valley was ripe for drama. Thirteen years. What a perfect number for him. Thirteen years abroad- over half her life. She understood her mama's grief, at least at a logical level. She'd never been a mama herself, but the thought recalled a dream, or... Was it a dream? No. No, it had been a future. She had witnessed it in Fate's Loom, staring at the walls. She shook her head to clear it.
Mama also mentioned something about trouble at Gravesbottom. It made Jane uncomfortable; she was certain she'd hazed that hive. True, thirteen years was plenty of time for new pests to swarm, but she had a sick feeling it wasn't that simple.
Eleanor returned to the room with her tray, a second refreshment for her guests, and an accompaniment of carrot cake. Her eyes were red, but the Smiths were hardy Western women; the pair had no difficulty ignoring signs of emotional duress in pleasant company. Life was tough; get up and get on with it.
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Silence was normally a welcome reprieve from the noise of life, but now it was a sort of damning fate for Eryl. In trying to defend people she cared about, at an inopportune time, she had managed to tender an immense amount of emotional turmoil. She empathized, as Maelgwyns were wont to do, with Eleanor and her struggles, but she understood better being a daughter who had never come home. The only thing she never understood was why Jane never came home. The triclops dismissed it as something that was not her place to ask, but that same thought put not just her, but Ruarc and Laoise in an awkward position.
They couldn’t pretend the situation hadn’t happened.
Well, they could, in fact, that’s likely what most people would do.
So, Eryl looked down at the carrot cake, and realized she was actually pretty hungry. There had been a lot of talk of chili before the alarms rang out, and she felt her tummy churn every time she thought about the food lost. Eryl didn’t want cake, she wanted a meal, but it would be rude to demand any more than she already had.
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith,” Eryl broke the silence, stiff as a board, no longer feeling very brave. She approached the carrot cake cautiously, before settling off a slice for herself and taking a bite. “Mmm, I will say, it’s very good. Not just because I’m starving. Haven’t eaten since yesterday, honestly. Mm. Yes. Very good.”
Eryl cut off a much larger piece, and occupied her mouth with it.
They couldn’t pretend the situation hadn’t happened.
Well, they could, in fact, that’s likely what most people would do.
So, Eryl looked down at the carrot cake, and realized she was actually pretty hungry. There had been a lot of talk of chili before the alarms rang out, and she felt her tummy churn every time she thought about the food lost. Eryl didn’t want cake, she wanted a meal, but it would be rude to demand any more than she already had.
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith,” Eryl broke the silence, stiff as a board, no longer feeling very brave. She approached the carrot cake cautiously, before settling off a slice for herself and taking a bite. “Mmm, I will say, it’s very good. Not just because I’m starving. Haven’t eaten since yesterday, honestly. Mm. Yes. Very good.”
Eryl cut off a much larger piece, and occupied her mouth with it.
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
“The offer is appreciated ma’am, but I’ve not much of an appetite for sweets,” Ruarc began to say to the Smith matriarch. At the same time, Laoise stood and went over to stand by Jane at the window. Even in the perspective of the current situation, the familiar was an outsider. It was easy enough to identify Eryl’s feelings for Jane, at least for her it was. Perhaps it was due to not being able to speak with others for several years that allowed her to focus on observing body language and subtextual feelings; or perhaps it was something to do with being a bird and having a sense for awkward situations. Furthermore, Ruarc was guilty of it as well. Admittedly it was more noticeable before he had entered into the yet unapproved by Laoise relationship with Caoranach, but even still she could read the signs in her brother. Personally, she had been rooting for the Cottagecore Couple. For right now though, she was outside of the issue and felt her being the one to comfort Jane a bit would be the least obtrusive.
“Messes happen, Jane,” Laoise spoke softly, her voice comforting. There were dark clouds on her horizon. She could see the woman’s eyes flitting distractedly around the vista pictured through the window. A gentle hand came to rest briefly on Jane’s shoulder accompanied by a genuine smile. “You can either wallow in the mess; or take a step back, roll up your sleeves, and figure out where to start cleaning.”
“Messes happen, Jane,” Laoise spoke softly, her voice comforting. There were dark clouds on her horizon. She could see the woman’s eyes flitting distractedly around the vista pictured through the window. A gentle hand came to rest briefly on Jane’s shoulder accompanied by a genuine smile. “You can either wallow in the mess; or take a step back, roll up your sleeves, and figure out where to start cleaning.”
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
"...I've not much of an appetite for sweets." The Smith women both shot Ruarc a hard look; and both immediately softened when they realized who they were glaring at.
Eleanor softened to a smile. "That's cuz ye ain't been eatin the South Beach Diet," she joked, and chuckled softly at her own humor. She groaned as she settled into her rocking chair and watched Eryl for a few quiet moments. "Yeah, we'll get some meat on yer bones, ladies. Assumin y'all don run off fore I can feed ye gain." The humorous intent was as clear as the stain of resentment in her voice. She wanted to make light, but it was still a freshly broken scar. "City girls, always runnin round without proper cookin. That's why yer all chicken-legged an bird-handed."
Jane's eyes jumped to Laoise as she approached. A smile was attempted, but her frown merely rose into a firm line. Then her eyes fled out the window once more. Laoise's words successfully summoned a weak smile to the American's face. "Yer right. I been standin under the spigot an cryin bout the wet." She plucked off a glove and rubbed at her face as if she'd been crying, but there were no tears. Her eyes resumed their roaming.
Where to start? Best place is here; best time is now; the future ain't clear, only god knows how; Take the reins and steer, and to yer path avow. She didn't remember who said it. Traveler? Carmichael? Didn't matter. It was a functional saying. Very grounded. That's what she needed: to stay grounded. Don get stracted by lofty abstractions bout gods an the Callin an Fate. Focus on home an mama an the valley. An your frens. They done pulled ye out the fire plenny, an you them.
Jane took a deep breath and nodded to Laoise. "Thankee, sai. Needed that. Let's go sit. Enjoy the peace while it lasts."
She sat, plated a slice of cake, settled back beside Eryl, and took a bite of the best damn carrot cake she'd ever had. "This is the best damn carrot cake I ever had, mama."
"Yer damn right it is," Eleanor answered, digging into her own.
Eleanor softened to a smile. "That's cuz ye ain't been eatin the South Beach Diet," she joked, and chuckled softly at her own humor. She groaned as she settled into her rocking chair and watched Eryl for a few quiet moments. "Yeah, we'll get some meat on yer bones, ladies. Assumin y'all don run off fore I can feed ye gain." The humorous intent was as clear as the stain of resentment in her voice. She wanted to make light, but it was still a freshly broken scar. "City girls, always runnin round without proper cookin. That's why yer all chicken-legged an bird-handed."
Jane's eyes jumped to Laoise as she approached. A smile was attempted, but her frown merely rose into a firm line. Then her eyes fled out the window once more. Laoise's words successfully summoned a weak smile to the American's face. "Yer right. I been standin under the spigot an cryin bout the wet." She plucked off a glove and rubbed at her face as if she'd been crying, but there were no tears. Her eyes resumed their roaming.
Where to start? Best place is here; best time is now; the future ain't clear, only god knows how; Take the reins and steer, and to yer path avow. She didn't remember who said it. Traveler? Carmichael? Didn't matter. It was a functional saying. Very grounded. That's what she needed: to stay grounded. Don get stracted by lofty abstractions bout gods an the Callin an Fate. Focus on home an mama an the valley. An your frens. They done pulled ye out the fire plenny, an you them.
Jane took a deep breath and nodded to Laoise. "Thankee, sai. Needed that. Let's go sit. Enjoy the peace while it lasts."
She sat, plated a slice of cake, settled back beside Eryl, and took a bite of the best damn carrot cake she'd ever had. "This is the best damn carrot cake I ever had, mama."
"Yer damn right it is," Eleanor answered, digging into her own.
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
With everyone back in their places, Eryl felt a bit better about the situation. There were a lot of emotions floating around the room, and it made the air pretty thick. She had been so preoccupied at being a good guest that she had missed the chance to be comforting to Jane. Laoise had swooped in before she had worked up the thought, and, moreover, the courage. Intimate moments like these seemed important, and she was missing all her chances.
No time to be depressed, she thought, as there were more important feelings in the room. Perhaps she could carry on the conversation about her thin limbs with Eleanor? No. That would get droll, no one wanted to hear about hollow triclops bones. Eryl was not that interesting, Eryl thought of herself. Perhaps she could spearhead the issue? Smith women seemed to like action, after all.
"Mm." Eryl motioned, with her mouth full before clearing the breach, "this place, Gravesbottom. You had mentioned issues out there. The four of us are rather good at issues. You know. I won't speak for everyone, but I wouldn't mind offering some help. Provided it is supernatural or natural, and not some civil disturbance."
It seemed presumptuous, to dive in on a problem instead of getting back to the matter at hand, but lingering softly opened haunted minds to fierce introspection.
"I've broad studies on monsters and all things that go bump in the night," explained Eryl, settling her plate down, "In fact, I am a Lodge Witch for the Hexers, if that means anything. If not; I am the academic resource for the foremost group of monster slayers on this Earth. Beasts, necrophages, spirits, hemophages, insectoids, floranids, arachnids, elementals, ogroids, ancients and golems."
Eryl sipped her coffee, finishing with, "Whatever ghost story, cautionary tale or campfire narrative you've heard of the dark, my sort have either killed, reasoned, or pacified it at one point or another."
No time to be depressed, she thought, as there were more important feelings in the room. Perhaps she could carry on the conversation about her thin limbs with Eleanor? No. That would get droll, no one wanted to hear about hollow triclops bones. Eryl was not that interesting, Eryl thought of herself. Perhaps she could spearhead the issue? Smith women seemed to like action, after all.
"Mm." Eryl motioned, with her mouth full before clearing the breach, "this place, Gravesbottom. You had mentioned issues out there. The four of us are rather good at issues. You know. I won't speak for everyone, but I wouldn't mind offering some help. Provided it is supernatural or natural, and not some civil disturbance."
It seemed presumptuous, to dive in on a problem instead of getting back to the matter at hand, but lingering softly opened haunted minds to fierce introspection.
"I've broad studies on monsters and all things that go bump in the night," explained Eryl, settling her plate down, "In fact, I am a Lodge Witch for the Hexers, if that means anything. If not; I am the academic resource for the foremost group of monster slayers on this Earth. Beasts, necrophages, spirits, hemophages, insectoids, floranids, arachnids, elementals, ogroids, ancients and golems."
Eryl sipped her coffee, finishing with, "Whatever ghost story, cautionary tale or campfire narrative you've heard of the dark, my sort have either killed, reasoned, or pacified it at one point or another."
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Ruarc froze mid-sip of coffee at the almost immediate feeling of daggers being stared into him. Apparently not partaking in sweets was a faux pa in Texas; a matter that he made a point of remembering as he relented and grabbed as small of a portion as he could. He was sure it was tasty, but he’d found himself less interested in sugary food lately. If it weren’t for the fact that he was also fairly hungry he would have probably continued to avoid the cake; after all, he needed to make sure he kept his strength up. Before long, Laoise and Jane returned to their seats.
”Everything good?” Ruarc asked Laoise.
”Yes. Now eat your cake,” Laoise responded.
”Was…”
”Cake. Now.”
Rocking back in his seat, Ruarc sank with slight indignation as he wondered if other druid familiars strong armed their druids the way Laoise did. At least Maeve was overall kind to him, if not distinctly Scottish about everything. He wondered as to her wellbeing, but knew little beyond the fact that she hadn’t perished. While he was comforted knowing she was safe at Carneath, having been instructed by Ruarc to take the portal the Keepers had come through, Ruarc found himself chafing at the distance limitation keeping him from speaking with her. Although, with the supposed magical disruption that occurred here, who’s to say he would have been able to contact her in the first place. To that extent, he was grateful for Laoise's presence. Returning his attention to the conversation, he noted Eryl finishing her professional pitch. He’d never paid much attention to the Hexers, but was somewhat familiar with their exploits due to briefings from the Keepers’ information network.
“What is the nature of the problem, ma’am?” Ruarc asked as the floor seemed to be open for questions.
”Everything good?” Ruarc asked Laoise.
”Yes. Now eat your cake,” Laoise responded.
”Was…”
”Cake. Now.”
Rocking back in his seat, Ruarc sank with slight indignation as he wondered if other druid familiars strong armed their druids the way Laoise did. At least Maeve was overall kind to him, if not distinctly Scottish about everything. He wondered as to her wellbeing, but knew little beyond the fact that she hadn’t perished. While he was comforted knowing she was safe at Carneath, having been instructed by Ruarc to take the portal the Keepers had come through, Ruarc found himself chafing at the distance limitation keeping him from speaking with her. Although, with the supposed magical disruption that occurred here, who’s to say he would have been able to contact her in the first place. To that extent, he was grateful for Laoise's presence. Returning his attention to the conversation, he noted Eryl finishing her professional pitch. He’d never paid much attention to the Hexers, but was somewhat familiar with their exploits due to briefings from the Keepers’ information network.
“What is the nature of the problem, ma’am?” Ruarc asked as the floor seemed to be open for questions.
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Eleanor listened intently to Eryl's elevator pitch. "Shoulda known," she told herself with a shake of the head and leaned forward to take her coffee in both hands. Before she could begin, Jane tried to get ahead of the issue.
"We were sent here. By magic. To see you-- and to help, we think."
"O course ye were sent here. Couldna came on yer own--"
"Mama! I'm tryin here, real hard. Meet me in the middle. Please." Pleading wasn't something the others had ever seen from Jane. It was a soft moment in her otherwise hard features, a tenderness in her voice so often stern or fierce.
Eleanor flinched, then nodded after a moment's hesitation. "Go on, girl."
"Gravesbottom. What happened since... Since I left." Jane had never spoken harder words.
"Everythin got worse, Janey. That damn sorcerer got em all riled up. Started forcin people inta his dark church. Threatenin folk. Scarin folks off. They don come out this far much, an they gimme space after what ye did, but Janey..." She shook her head. "Sundry Valley used to be quiet. We liked it that way. But she's dyin. Ain't gon be no Valley if that dark man an his goons have they way. Gon be all dried up, dust n bones an devils."
Jane couldn't understand what she was hearing. "Mama, that cain't be. I killed him, mama. Shot him dead."
Eleanor nodded. "Oh, he's got a right nice set o scars. Made it part o his persona. Them goons what still hang round started callin him Prophet of Twin Stars on account o them." She drew a line from her left cheek to her chin and a second from her left temple over the top of her scalp. "Burned im up good, ain't got no hair but the right side o his head."
Only Eryl could hear Jane's gloves creaking as her fists balled up. All this time. All this time she thought she'd saved her hometown, but she'd merely abandoned it. Left her mama and neighbors at the whims of a devil and his cadre. She'd never felt a rage like the one boiling up just then. She dipped her head, staring at her hands and forcing them to relax. "I'll kill em," she murmured. "Properly."
"We were sent here. By magic. To see you-- and to help, we think."
"O course ye were sent here. Couldna came on yer own--"
"Mama! I'm tryin here, real hard. Meet me in the middle. Please." Pleading wasn't something the others had ever seen from Jane. It was a soft moment in her otherwise hard features, a tenderness in her voice so often stern or fierce.
Eleanor flinched, then nodded after a moment's hesitation. "Go on, girl."
"Gravesbottom. What happened since... Since I left." Jane had never spoken harder words.
"Everythin got worse, Janey. That damn sorcerer got em all riled up. Started forcin people inta his dark church. Threatenin folk. Scarin folks off. They don come out this far much, an they gimme space after what ye did, but Janey..." She shook her head. "Sundry Valley used to be quiet. We liked it that way. But she's dyin. Ain't gon be no Valley if that dark man an his goons have they way. Gon be all dried up, dust n bones an devils."
Jane couldn't understand what she was hearing. "Mama, that cain't be. I killed him, mama. Shot him dead."
Eleanor nodded. "Oh, he's got a right nice set o scars. Made it part o his persona. Them goons what still hang round started callin him Prophet of Twin Stars on account o them." She drew a line from her left cheek to her chin and a second from her left temple over the top of her scalp. "Burned im up good, ain't got no hair but the right side o his head."
Only Eryl could hear Jane's gloves creaking as her fists balled up. All this time. All this time she thought she'd saved her hometown, but she'd merely abandoned it. Left her mama and neighbors at the whims of a devil and his cadre. She'd never felt a rage like the one boiling up just then. She dipped her head, staring at her hands and forcing them to relax. "I'll kill em," she murmured. "Properly."
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Oddly enough, the mention of an evil sorcerer put Ruarc at ease a bit; a fact that concerned him, so he decided to not think about it. Evil mages were, technically speaking, a clearly defined part of his job description. Sure he was a little bit outside of his jurisdiction, but that hadn’t stopped some of his jobs in the past. Besides, if the local Keeper wanted to step in then they were welcome too. Although he was still fuzzy on how the American druids divided up territory, he still got a kick out of imagining a druid in a cowboy hat. The cherry on top was that it was to help a dying valley. That was pretty much the entire checklist for druids. The only thing that could make it better was for this Prophet to somehow be connected to what happened to Safeholme.
“Fire’s a specialty of mine, I’d be more than happy to even that out for him,” Ruarc offered as he gestured lightly with his mug. It was a bit more brutal than he would usually be, but a one-liner felt appropriate. “Do you know where he might be located? And Jane, anything we should know about what he can throw at us?”
“Fire’s a specialty of mine, I’d be more than happy to even that out for him,” Ruarc offered as he gestured lightly with his mug. It was a bit more brutal than he would usually be, but a one-liner felt appropriate. “Do you know where he might be located? And Jane, anything we should know about what he can throw at us?”