LOG: Safety from the storm
Date: Day 11, Month 10, Turn 25
Location: Caves, Western Island
Synopsis: Islanders escape a storm in the safety of the caves.
Caves, Western Island
The yawning mouth of these caves leads into an increasingly low passage, one that doesn't open out again until it's turned a corner and lost most of the light. Were it not for the occasional, scattered glows, these caverns would be very dark indeed; as it is, there's light enough mostly to keep a person from stubbing a toe, certainly not enough to be able to perform many practical tasks.
The main cavern is a big one, with a high, echoing ceiling and walls that are naturally smooth and dry, and a floor that might be uneven, but is also kept clean of dust and debris. It must have been used extensively once, for there are still scattered furnishings, crudely made but serviceable, but none of them appear to be in current usage.
Passages lead off from the main cavern, though, and some of these lead into smaller caverns that /are/ in use, most of them providing storage for harvested food and other supplies.
It's mid-afternoon, but most of the day's activities have been called to a halt: a storm has come in, wind and rain making normal pursuits trecherous. Most of the community has taken shelter in the caves as a result, clustered around small fires, and working on whatever they can that doesn't require external resources. Tom stands in the passage that leads out to the rest of the world, positioned in such a way as to maximise his view of the outside world - which is limited, thanks to the way the tunnel curves. He looks bored and restless, one foot thudding into the wall behind him over and over again.
Though it's long past time for lessons to end, Emme can still be found weaving amongst the older children helping them find things to do. And attempting to help keep the littles busy with a game requiring pebbles. Not the most exciting way to spend time, but it probably beats thudding one's feet against the wall. An activity that causes the harper's eyes to stray towards the exit every time boot starts scraping against stone once more. "I do hope it lets up soon." she murmurs, finally pausing in her travels.
Near one of the fires, Celadion is hunched over his rainy day project. An arrangement of reeds, wood and rope. Some new and some old. He has been fussing over the monstrosity for several hours and finally has to take a break to let his fingers rest. Stretching out his legs he gets up, rubbing dirt from his backside before going to have a peek at the weather outside. It's Emmeline's remark about the rain that draws his attention after his look outside, "With luck it will blow over soon. I don't like to think about another day of this or what it's doing to my place...."
Tom's head does turn at the sound of Emmeline's voice, though he's rather carefully not meeting her gaze. It's to Celadion that he aims his response, his low tenor reaching across the background noise. "My bet is we'll be sleeping in here; Shimana says it'll die down by dinner, but it'll be /dark/, then." He sounds disgruntled - edgy, even, as though being cooped up in here is doing strange things to his head. Certainly, he's less abrasive than usual. It can't help that, "Kima," his sister, "and some of her friends didn't make it in here."
"Days like this it seems it would have been better to stay in the cave system. But then, most of us go a little stir crazy in here for too long." Probably remembering the comet pass all the while too, if the pensive expressions on some faces around the fires are indicative. "What're you working on, exactly?" Her gaze flicks over to the work in progress, before looking back at Celadion with a bit of curiousity. "And Shimana's nearly always right." Resignation to another good few hours cooped up dominates her expression, though a wary concern replaces it at news that there are some who didn't make it to the caves.
Celadion's dark eyes look from Emmeline to Tomaeran, a small nod of his head to show his acceptance but not without a wry roll of his eyes, "Always something eh? Are you worried about getting around in th dark?" Okay, so there's more than a little humor in the question but it's short lived, "You want to go and have a look around for them? Could be they just don't want to make the run from hut to cave." As for his project, he rubs the back of his neck and looks back at the mess of wood and reeds, "It's a new door....Although more of this rain and much more than the door will need replacing."
Without actually looking at Emmeline, Tom answers one of her comments with an irritated sounding, "If only people actually /listened/ to Shimana, we'd all be in here, and not just most of us." At least, though, his irritation is not aimed at the Harper. He adds, rather more to Celadion this time, "Clearly, I'm afraid the seamonsters will get me, if I go out in the dark." He's not really amused; his tone is snide. "I don't want to get home and find my roof has fallen in when it's too late to get it fixed." Presumably, by someone else. His gaze slides back towards the exit; he does seem to be genuinely concerned for his sister.
"I imagine there'll be a few of us with torches to light the way if enough people wanted to head back to the settlement when it stops raining. I suspect those with children will just spend the night. Once they're aslep..." Emme lifts her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. -Everyone- knows you don't want to rouse a sleeping child! Or so her shrug suggests. And if one were paying attention, it would be easy to see that the harper is doing her best to hold back a few snide comments. It could be the way her jaw clenches a bit, as if she's biting down on her tongue. But, her discipline at the moment keeps her reigned in. That, and there's probably an elder or two close by. Ahem. "That'd be the downside of needing to build with mud and clay." she agrees easily, and ostensibly with both men.
Celadion barks out a laugh at Tomaeran for the seamonster comment, "Oh, you kidder." Even aiming a swat to the man's arm, chuckling to himself as though the tone itself is laughable. "Monsters--" He does nod in agreement with the harper's assesment of torches and it not being a lost cause, "Well, there's plenty enough room in here if we have to stay right? Warmer anyway." He looks ready to withdraw back to his project but hesitates, "Who else hasn't made it in?"
"You listen to some of the fishers sometime," says Tomaeran, despite the twitch of a smile he shows as Celadion swats his arm. "They seem pretty sure of it." His tone seems to find him undecided on the matter. Despite himself, his gaze shifts back towards Emmeline, regarding her levelly for a few moments. Then; "I suppose we'll see." A genreal comment. Followed rather quickly by, "I don't know who else. Kima and a couple of her friends. Some of the fishers, maybe, but they'll have taken cover in some of the caves down by the water, surely."
Emmeline returns Tom's gaze with an entirely bland expression, a brief smile flickering across her face when Celadion jokes about the seamonsters. "You should have been there when we have the camp-out for some of the kids. Riorde and Devaki told a great seamonster story - even had Xoami provide the sound effects. It was funny to see them all running around the fire roaring like they were all big hulking bad guys." Her accompanying chuckle fades when another loud crack of thunder and a streak of lightning zigzags across their field of vision. "If they were out wandering, there are a number of caves to take shelter in at least."
"Oh, I have heard the stories, I also have heard them talk about 'the one that got away'. That's a good one too." Likely a frequest tale when the catch is slim. "Now, if I'd have seen one, I might be concerned. If I'd have been at that camp-out, I might need to sleep with a glow basket right beside me. Were the children upset by the story?" Conversation moves back to the missing people in the caves and he squints out at the lightening dancing in the sky, "Like as not if we send people out looking, one of the search'ers will end up with a twisted leg and they will be tucked away warm and safe."
Tomaeran's 'mmm' probably means he agrees that there's no point sending someone it; it doesn't mean he stops looking concerned, though. "I remember we were all pretty terrified by those stories when /we/ were kids," he remarks, more evenly. "Everything seemed pretty bright and real back then. Like-- I was totally going to befriend a seamonster and ride him around the waves forever." And possibly end up on the mainland? He's not adding that bit, though. And he's ruining it by smirking as he says, "Bet a bunch of those kids /still/ believe that kind of stupid stuff. Probably some adults, too. The rescuer, sweeping in."
"Oh, the got a good fright when the end of the story came up. But then a few seconds later they were tackling us and laughing like a pack of crazy kids." Emmeline replies, smile lifting upwards more. "So I wouldn't say they were upset, no." She nods a simple agreement with Celadion that someone is likely to be injured if they venture out there looking for the missing. "It's not so bad to let them be children for as long as they're able, and enjoy life here such as it is. They'll learn soon enough the truth of it, afterall."
Celadion turns his back on the storm after watching another flash. "I think I recall there being a payment to the monster in the stories I was told as a child. Then again, it could have been a lesson in: 'Nothing comes without a price.'" The memory makes him smile though, "I miss those days, being free to...dream a bit. Hopefully they won't pin too many hopes on a pet seamonster."
Tomaeran shifts his position, leaning his back flat against the wall so that he can consider Emmeline and Celadion more directly. "I suppose so," he allows, after a few moments. "It doesn't last. And then--" his expression has turned deeply moody again; he's clearly dwelling over something else, something more personal, rather than just all of this. "Then there's nothing else. Just /this/."
Emmeline grins, almost as if she knows a little secret. "There usually is a lesson to go with the story." she agrees, settling her hands on the shoulders of one of the children who come running up to the entrance to look outside. "Sorry litle one, you can't be by the entrance. Let's go find that game..." she suggests, giving the other two men a brief nod before she's suddenly drawn back into her duties and fades into the shadows between the small spots of fire.
Once Emmeline has withdrawn with the children, Celadion can give Tomaeran and his musing some consideration. "I wonder how good it is to...stretch out make-believe for the children. Ah well, can't do any real harm right? You and I had our tales. Right?" The question pitched like he's fishing for an in to ask something else.
Tomaeran has to think before answering that one, weighing up both sides with a wrinkle of his brow and a shake of his head. "I don't know, to be honest," he allows, eventually. "We had our tales - but how far did our dreams fall? But maybe it's worse because of Raum. I didn't think as much about, you know, the /rest/ of the world. Before him." Which makes him grimace. It's probably a good thing Raum isn't around to defend himself. "It's all a bit useless, really. All of it. Just bullshit."
Celadion rubs a hand up his face, scratching at his jaw, "How many of our fellows are still up on the cliffs waiting to see something? I bet you more now that these new stories are flapping around." The jaw tightens as his hand drops away, "I agree with you though, I can't bring myself to talk with the man myself. I don't think I want to hear about the other place. It might as well be fantasy stories."
"Rilka keeps saying she's seen sails," reports Tom, with a wrinkle of his nose, frustration writ large over his expression. "But she hasn't. I /heard/ it gives her nightmares. Jaques is depressed. I'm--" he waves a hand, uneasy. He's not entirely sure, it seems, what he is. "I don't think it helps anything. Knowing. Hearing. It's just-- useless. All of it. We're here, not there, and I can't see that changing. Stupid dreamers. Have they no grasp of reality?"
Celadion rolls his eyes, "Sails? She also says that the crabs talk to her. I don't know about you but I don't trust the bones or the signs much these days. Not after the last time I took them to heart." Around the time of his wife's death. "The worst part about all this change is...people wanting things that are not here. There are still good things here. What if those stories about our parents and grandparents being criminals is true? Wouldn't those people not be too pleased to see any of us? That's been on my mind a lot to be honest." Perhaps not the most popular of the stories being whispered about but if people talk of seamonsters, this is worth some reflection.
It's a good thing Rilka isn't in earshot, because Tom's agreement is pretty stark: "She's nuts. And getting worse, I think. Since we were kids. I think-- Shimana's weather stuff is mostly pretty accurate. But that's just... reading the sky? I think?" Thought furrows Tom's brow, and since heavy thinking is not exactly his forte, it takes him a few seconds more before he can add, "They must've sent us out here and left us for a reason. Supposed to die and all that. That's why no one has ever come. And no one ever will."
Celadion makes a face, "I haven't seen Rilka lately." He's real good at ducking out of spiritual hookus-pookus conversations since the last time. "Frightening. I imagine she's scared to death of the what-ifs." When Tom spells out their past and likely future he nods his head in agreement, "Wonder if Raum was sent to check on our 'condition'. Maybe they have those...monsters. The ones from the stories." He chuckles, "You know, I think I'd be happier with a new wife and some children. I hear most of the girls are rejecting any idea of marriage now. All because of these new stories I wager."
"Lucky you," Tom remarks, of Rilka, shaking his head as he rolls his eyes. "If they sent him for that, they'd have to rescue him at some point. Could be dangerous. Bunch of us-- you know, swarmining, or whatever, to get rescued, too." He doesn't have a lot to say on marriage, having oh-so-recently managed to escape his own; all he says, after a beat is, "Seani's single, if you're interested. Not Blooded, though, of course. And /I/ think Emmeline could use a husband. Someone with skills like that." Never mind that it's common knowledge he and the harper don't much get along.
Celadion sniffs softly, "Imagine how we would 'swam' them in hopes of getting rescued. Haven't heard anyone who'd say they'd raise a fuss if His kind," Off-Islanders, "Showed up. Seems fishy is all. Real fishy." He smiles suddenly, "But, we might as well consider those seabeasts coming to carry us off too while we're tossing out ideas. Just can't lead to any good." With a glance back out at the rain he actually gives Tom's ex-wife some thought and shrugs, "I would like a nice, agreeable wife. And I think Emmeline's got some radical ideas about marriage that wouldn't work for me. I've had the wild willful one, no thank you. If I ever make to rank of Elder, I'm going to work hard on making some good matches."
Tomaeran, not a deep thinker, not really, just laughs, tone inclined slightly towards ruefulness. "Yeah. They're all-- it's all a waste of time. We've got to just keep living our lives, the way they are. No time to waste on dreams." He crosses his arms, tipping his head backwards against the wall, and sighs. "Probably. She's definitely not someone I'd want to end up shackled to. Well. One of the others then. Not Rilka, not Seani, not Emmeline. Probably not Rhaelyn, for that matter, if you want an /agreeable/ wife. Iolene?" He shrugs. "Or ask the elders to /make/ you a good match."
Celadion chuckles, "Right. Unless you have dreams of sails right? Or you commune with the fish, then it's completely reasonable." He glances around to make sure that no one overhears him being so rotten and then grins at Tomaeran, "Anyway, dreams don't keep the food on the table or the roof's over our heads." As the women are listed he shakes his head. And another shake and at last he just looks skyward and sighs, "I'm better off letting the elders try their selection again. What about you? Going to let them or you going to keep your head low?"
Tomaeran smirks, his expression far from pleasant as he considers that. "Exactly. Shells." The latter word is said with vehemence, as the young man shakes his head. "Me? No, I'm definitely going to try and keep my head low for a bit. I've had enough of marriage-- for now, anyway. I think my uncle's upset with me over something, so it seems like he'd probably stick me with Rilka just to spite me. Eventually. I'll get married again /eventually/. For now, though, I'm rather enjoying being free."
Celadion sputters and then laughs, "Oh, if you end up with Rilka, I'll never let you hear the end of it." Though he is finding a bounty of amusement in the idea, something sobers him, "No, that's not even good to joke about, what if they did force that on you? Or someone." He shakes his head to dismiss the idea, "Eh, you'r not wrong about that, enjoying being free. Eh, but what do you do with your freedom? Stand around waiting for your sister? Do you want to go looking for her?"
"Hey!" says Tom, feigning offense-- though the whole idea sobers him, too. Finally; "I'm pretty sure they're not going to have her get married at all. I mean, everyone knows there's always been weirdness in her family line. And she's /so/ weird... seems like it's bad blood, for all that she's Blood." Following on from that idea, barely a pause between remarks, he adds, "You could marry my sister. She'd be a good match." Beat. "Guess I stay out late, and flirt with girls, and don't have to worry about keeping someone else happy. Small things. Big happiness. I-- Kima'll be fine. Just fine." For all he's still staring at the lightning-filled sky, off and on.
Celadion nods firmly about the bad blood, "At least she doesn't seem over eager about being hitched up." A little shudder at the thought of the crazy girl and a baby. His lips twitch, at the prospect of having to make a woman happy and snorts, "Funny how the women don't ever think about what makes 'us' happy, or," At the other young man offering his sister, he looses track of his tangent to fix Tom with a meaningful look, "Kima?" His tongue comes unglued after a moment and his grin turns sly, "Don't try and trick me. She's a bit green."
Tomaeran gives a meaningful shrug: "She's /nineteen/. Old enough. It's worth a try." He's all dimples and amusement after that, as the conversation continues-- however long it does.
Location: Caves, Western Island
Synopsis: Islanders escape a storm in the safety of the caves.
Caves, Western Island
The yawning mouth of these caves leads into an increasingly low passage, one that doesn't open out again until it's turned a corner and lost most of the light. Were it not for the occasional, scattered glows, these caverns would be very dark indeed; as it is, there's light enough mostly to keep a person from stubbing a toe, certainly not enough to be able to perform many practical tasks.
The main cavern is a big one, with a high, echoing ceiling and walls that are naturally smooth and dry, and a floor that might be uneven, but is also kept clean of dust and debris. It must have been used extensively once, for there are still scattered furnishings, crudely made but serviceable, but none of them appear to be in current usage.
Passages lead off from the main cavern, though, and some of these lead into smaller caverns that /are/ in use, most of them providing storage for harvested food and other supplies.
It's mid-afternoon, but most of the day's activities have been called to a halt: a storm has come in, wind and rain making normal pursuits trecherous. Most of the community has taken shelter in the caves as a result, clustered around small fires, and working on whatever they can that doesn't require external resources. Tom stands in the passage that leads out to the rest of the world, positioned in such a way as to maximise his view of the outside world - which is limited, thanks to the way the tunnel curves. He looks bored and restless, one foot thudding into the wall behind him over and over again.
Though it's long past time for lessons to end, Emme can still be found weaving amongst the older children helping them find things to do. And attempting to help keep the littles busy with a game requiring pebbles. Not the most exciting way to spend time, but it probably beats thudding one's feet against the wall. An activity that causes the harper's eyes to stray towards the exit every time boot starts scraping against stone once more. "I do hope it lets up soon." she murmurs, finally pausing in her travels.
Near one of the fires, Celadion is hunched over his rainy day project. An arrangement of reeds, wood and rope. Some new and some old. He has been fussing over the monstrosity for several hours and finally has to take a break to let his fingers rest. Stretching out his legs he gets up, rubbing dirt from his backside before going to have a peek at the weather outside. It's Emmeline's remark about the rain that draws his attention after his look outside, "With luck it will blow over soon. I don't like to think about another day of this or what it's doing to my place...."
Tom's head does turn at the sound of Emmeline's voice, though he's rather carefully not meeting her gaze. It's to Celadion that he aims his response, his low tenor reaching across the background noise. "My bet is we'll be sleeping in here; Shimana says it'll die down by dinner, but it'll be /dark/, then." He sounds disgruntled - edgy, even, as though being cooped up in here is doing strange things to his head. Certainly, he's less abrasive than usual. It can't help that, "Kima," his sister, "and some of her friends didn't make it in here."
"Days like this it seems it would have been better to stay in the cave system. But then, most of us go a little stir crazy in here for too long." Probably remembering the comet pass all the while too, if the pensive expressions on some faces around the fires are indicative. "What're you working on, exactly?" Her gaze flicks over to the work in progress, before looking back at Celadion with a bit of curiousity. "And Shimana's nearly always right." Resignation to another good few hours cooped up dominates her expression, though a wary concern replaces it at news that there are some who didn't make it to the caves.
Celadion's dark eyes look from Emmeline to Tomaeran, a small nod of his head to show his acceptance but not without a wry roll of his eyes, "Always something eh? Are you worried about getting around in th dark?" Okay, so there's more than a little humor in the question but it's short lived, "You want to go and have a look around for them? Could be they just don't want to make the run from hut to cave." As for his project, he rubs the back of his neck and looks back at the mess of wood and reeds, "It's a new door....Although more of this rain and much more than the door will need replacing."
Without actually looking at Emmeline, Tom answers one of her comments with an irritated sounding, "If only people actually /listened/ to Shimana, we'd all be in here, and not just most of us." At least, though, his irritation is not aimed at the Harper. He adds, rather more to Celadion this time, "Clearly, I'm afraid the seamonsters will get me, if I go out in the dark." He's not really amused; his tone is snide. "I don't want to get home and find my roof has fallen in when it's too late to get it fixed." Presumably, by someone else. His gaze slides back towards the exit; he does seem to be genuinely concerned for his sister.
"I imagine there'll be a few of us with torches to light the way if enough people wanted to head back to the settlement when it stops raining. I suspect those with children will just spend the night. Once they're aslep..." Emme lifts her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. -Everyone- knows you don't want to rouse a sleeping child! Or so her shrug suggests. And if one were paying attention, it would be easy to see that the harper is doing her best to hold back a few snide comments. It could be the way her jaw clenches a bit, as if she's biting down on her tongue. But, her discipline at the moment keeps her reigned in. That, and there's probably an elder or two close by. Ahem. "That'd be the downside of needing to build with mud and clay." she agrees easily, and ostensibly with both men.
Celadion barks out a laugh at Tomaeran for the seamonster comment, "Oh, you kidder." Even aiming a swat to the man's arm, chuckling to himself as though the tone itself is laughable. "Monsters--" He does nod in agreement with the harper's assesment of torches and it not being a lost cause, "Well, there's plenty enough room in here if we have to stay right? Warmer anyway." He looks ready to withdraw back to his project but hesitates, "Who else hasn't made it in?"
"You listen to some of the fishers sometime," says Tomaeran, despite the twitch of a smile he shows as Celadion swats his arm. "They seem pretty sure of it." His tone seems to find him undecided on the matter. Despite himself, his gaze shifts back towards Emmeline, regarding her levelly for a few moments. Then; "I suppose we'll see." A genreal comment. Followed rather quickly by, "I don't know who else. Kima and a couple of her friends. Some of the fishers, maybe, but they'll have taken cover in some of the caves down by the water, surely."
Emmeline returns Tom's gaze with an entirely bland expression, a brief smile flickering across her face when Celadion jokes about the seamonsters. "You should have been there when we have the camp-out for some of the kids. Riorde and Devaki told a great seamonster story - even had Xoami provide the sound effects. It was funny to see them all running around the fire roaring like they were all big hulking bad guys." Her accompanying chuckle fades when another loud crack of thunder and a streak of lightning zigzags across their field of vision. "If they were out wandering, there are a number of caves to take shelter in at least."
"Oh, I have heard the stories, I also have heard them talk about 'the one that got away'. That's a good one too." Likely a frequest tale when the catch is slim. "Now, if I'd have seen one, I might be concerned. If I'd have been at that camp-out, I might need to sleep with a glow basket right beside me. Were the children upset by the story?" Conversation moves back to the missing people in the caves and he squints out at the lightening dancing in the sky, "Like as not if we send people out looking, one of the search'ers will end up with a twisted leg and they will be tucked away warm and safe."
Tomaeran's 'mmm' probably means he agrees that there's no point sending someone it; it doesn't mean he stops looking concerned, though. "I remember we were all pretty terrified by those stories when /we/ were kids," he remarks, more evenly. "Everything seemed pretty bright and real back then. Like-- I was totally going to befriend a seamonster and ride him around the waves forever." And possibly end up on the mainland? He's not adding that bit, though. And he's ruining it by smirking as he says, "Bet a bunch of those kids /still/ believe that kind of stupid stuff. Probably some adults, too. The rescuer, sweeping in."
"Oh, the got a good fright when the end of the story came up. But then a few seconds later they were tackling us and laughing like a pack of crazy kids." Emmeline replies, smile lifting upwards more. "So I wouldn't say they were upset, no." She nods a simple agreement with Celadion that someone is likely to be injured if they venture out there looking for the missing. "It's not so bad to let them be children for as long as they're able, and enjoy life here such as it is. They'll learn soon enough the truth of it, afterall."
Celadion turns his back on the storm after watching another flash. "I think I recall there being a payment to the monster in the stories I was told as a child. Then again, it could have been a lesson in: 'Nothing comes without a price.'" The memory makes him smile though, "I miss those days, being free to...dream a bit. Hopefully they won't pin too many hopes on a pet seamonster."
Tomaeran shifts his position, leaning his back flat against the wall so that he can consider Emmeline and Celadion more directly. "I suppose so," he allows, after a few moments. "It doesn't last. And then--" his expression has turned deeply moody again; he's clearly dwelling over something else, something more personal, rather than just all of this. "Then there's nothing else. Just /this/."
Emmeline grins, almost as if she knows a little secret. "There usually is a lesson to go with the story." she agrees, settling her hands on the shoulders of one of the children who come running up to the entrance to look outside. "Sorry litle one, you can't be by the entrance. Let's go find that game..." she suggests, giving the other two men a brief nod before she's suddenly drawn back into her duties and fades into the shadows between the small spots of fire.
Once Emmeline has withdrawn with the children, Celadion can give Tomaeran and his musing some consideration. "I wonder how good it is to...stretch out make-believe for the children. Ah well, can't do any real harm right? You and I had our tales. Right?" The question pitched like he's fishing for an in to ask something else.
Tomaeran has to think before answering that one, weighing up both sides with a wrinkle of his brow and a shake of his head. "I don't know, to be honest," he allows, eventually. "We had our tales - but how far did our dreams fall? But maybe it's worse because of Raum. I didn't think as much about, you know, the /rest/ of the world. Before him." Which makes him grimace. It's probably a good thing Raum isn't around to defend himself. "It's all a bit useless, really. All of it. Just bullshit."
Celadion rubs a hand up his face, scratching at his jaw, "How many of our fellows are still up on the cliffs waiting to see something? I bet you more now that these new stories are flapping around." The jaw tightens as his hand drops away, "I agree with you though, I can't bring myself to talk with the man myself. I don't think I want to hear about the other place. It might as well be fantasy stories."
"Rilka keeps saying she's seen sails," reports Tom, with a wrinkle of his nose, frustration writ large over his expression. "But she hasn't. I /heard/ it gives her nightmares. Jaques is depressed. I'm--" he waves a hand, uneasy. He's not entirely sure, it seems, what he is. "I don't think it helps anything. Knowing. Hearing. It's just-- useless. All of it. We're here, not there, and I can't see that changing. Stupid dreamers. Have they no grasp of reality?"
Celadion rolls his eyes, "Sails? She also says that the crabs talk to her. I don't know about you but I don't trust the bones or the signs much these days. Not after the last time I took them to heart." Around the time of his wife's death. "The worst part about all this change is...people wanting things that are not here. There are still good things here. What if those stories about our parents and grandparents being criminals is true? Wouldn't those people not be too pleased to see any of us? That's been on my mind a lot to be honest." Perhaps not the most popular of the stories being whispered about but if people talk of seamonsters, this is worth some reflection.
It's a good thing Rilka isn't in earshot, because Tom's agreement is pretty stark: "She's nuts. And getting worse, I think. Since we were kids. I think-- Shimana's weather stuff is mostly pretty accurate. But that's just... reading the sky? I think?" Thought furrows Tom's brow, and since heavy thinking is not exactly his forte, it takes him a few seconds more before he can add, "They must've sent us out here and left us for a reason. Supposed to die and all that. That's why no one has ever come. And no one ever will."
Celadion makes a face, "I haven't seen Rilka lately." He's real good at ducking out of spiritual hookus-pookus conversations since the last time. "Frightening. I imagine she's scared to death of the what-ifs." When Tom spells out their past and likely future he nods his head in agreement, "Wonder if Raum was sent to check on our 'condition'. Maybe they have those...monsters. The ones from the stories." He chuckles, "You know, I think I'd be happier with a new wife and some children. I hear most of the girls are rejecting any idea of marriage now. All because of these new stories I wager."
"Lucky you," Tom remarks, of Rilka, shaking his head as he rolls his eyes. "If they sent him for that, they'd have to rescue him at some point. Could be dangerous. Bunch of us-- you know, swarmining, or whatever, to get rescued, too." He doesn't have a lot to say on marriage, having oh-so-recently managed to escape his own; all he says, after a beat is, "Seani's single, if you're interested. Not Blooded, though, of course. And /I/ think Emmeline could use a husband. Someone with skills like that." Never mind that it's common knowledge he and the harper don't much get along.
Celadion sniffs softly, "Imagine how we would 'swam' them in hopes of getting rescued. Haven't heard anyone who'd say they'd raise a fuss if His kind," Off-Islanders, "Showed up. Seems fishy is all. Real fishy." He smiles suddenly, "But, we might as well consider those seabeasts coming to carry us off too while we're tossing out ideas. Just can't lead to any good." With a glance back out at the rain he actually gives Tom's ex-wife some thought and shrugs, "I would like a nice, agreeable wife. And I think Emmeline's got some radical ideas about marriage that wouldn't work for me. I've had the wild willful one, no thank you. If I ever make to rank of Elder, I'm going to work hard on making some good matches."
Tomaeran, not a deep thinker, not really, just laughs, tone inclined slightly towards ruefulness. "Yeah. They're all-- it's all a waste of time. We've got to just keep living our lives, the way they are. No time to waste on dreams." He crosses his arms, tipping his head backwards against the wall, and sighs. "Probably. She's definitely not someone I'd want to end up shackled to. Well. One of the others then. Not Rilka, not Seani, not Emmeline. Probably not Rhaelyn, for that matter, if you want an /agreeable/ wife. Iolene?" He shrugs. "Or ask the elders to /make/ you a good match."
Celadion chuckles, "Right. Unless you have dreams of sails right? Or you commune with the fish, then it's completely reasonable." He glances around to make sure that no one overhears him being so rotten and then grins at Tomaeran, "Anyway, dreams don't keep the food on the table or the roof's over our heads." As the women are listed he shakes his head. And another shake and at last he just looks skyward and sighs, "I'm better off letting the elders try their selection again. What about you? Going to let them or you going to keep your head low?"
Tomaeran smirks, his expression far from pleasant as he considers that. "Exactly. Shells." The latter word is said with vehemence, as the young man shakes his head. "Me? No, I'm definitely going to try and keep my head low for a bit. I've had enough of marriage-- for now, anyway. I think my uncle's upset with me over something, so it seems like he'd probably stick me with Rilka just to spite me. Eventually. I'll get married again /eventually/. For now, though, I'm rather enjoying being free."
Celadion sputters and then laughs, "Oh, if you end up with Rilka, I'll never let you hear the end of it." Though he is finding a bounty of amusement in the idea, something sobers him, "No, that's not even good to joke about, what if they did force that on you? Or someone." He shakes his head to dismiss the idea, "Eh, you'r not wrong about that, enjoying being free. Eh, but what do you do with your freedom? Stand around waiting for your sister? Do you want to go looking for her?"
"Hey!" says Tom, feigning offense-- though the whole idea sobers him, too. Finally; "I'm pretty sure they're not going to have her get married at all. I mean, everyone knows there's always been weirdness in her family line. And she's /so/ weird... seems like it's bad blood, for all that she's Blood." Following on from that idea, barely a pause between remarks, he adds, "You could marry my sister. She'd be a good match." Beat. "Guess I stay out late, and flirt with girls, and don't have to worry about keeping someone else happy. Small things. Big happiness. I-- Kima'll be fine. Just fine." For all he's still staring at the lightning-filled sky, off and on.
Celadion nods firmly about the bad blood, "At least she doesn't seem over eager about being hitched up." A little shudder at the thought of the crazy girl and a baby. His lips twitch, at the prospect of having to make a woman happy and snorts, "Funny how the women don't ever think about what makes 'us' happy, or," At the other young man offering his sister, he looses track of his tangent to fix Tom with a meaningful look, "Kima?" His tongue comes unglued after a moment and his grin turns sly, "Don't try and trick me. She's a bit green."
Tomaeran gives a meaningful shrug: "She's /nineteen/. Old enough. It's worth a try." He's all dimples and amusement after that, as the conversation continues-- however long it does.