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| Living Quarters Greatroom — Blackspyre, Volkan |
| This room, as the entry to the living quarters of the Khournas family, is about as sumptuous as things get in the Blackspyre. The floor is sheathed in black tile, heated from below by veins of magma running through the tower itself. Deep red carpets have been layered over the tile across most of the expanse of the room, softening footfalls and providing a visual sense of warmth to go along with the physical one. One wall of the greatroom is taken up by a large 'fireplace' where one of the heat-proof transparent tubes filled with lava can be seen pulsing and roiling its way up the tower. Around the other walls are a scattering of drakeskins, paintings of battle and hunt, and shelves of holobooks. Several couches and chairs are gathered in clumps around the room, providing seating for twenty or so with ease. Opposite the lift is a corridor that leads back into the actual living quarters and a private drawing room, with the entrance to the corridor guarded by two men-at-arms at all times. |
| 06 September 3013 |
((What I have, missing beginning))
Anabethe frowns slightly as she watches after her sister, taking a sip of the beer without even wiping the bottle off. "I wish I could figure out what the problem is," she says with a shake of her head after. "And I wish I could find a way to make sure she doesn't feel like she doesn't count in this. All she ever wanted was to marry an heir and be his trusted right hand, you know? Being pushed aside…" She lets out a heavy breath. "I don't want it to make her bitter, that's the thing. And I don't know how to fix it." She's lounging on the couch in tank top and drawstring pants, bandages wrapped around her abdomen, with a beer in hand and cheese and crackers and sausage on the table nearby. One of her guilty pleasure teen television shows is paused on the projector, and Flint's making himself a place on the couch.
Oh look, Flint and Bethe are sitting on the couch together. The Ash Knight lets his legs dangle once he gets adjusted on the couch. "Like I've been telling you, you have to let Reena figure this out for herself. Maybe she and Kadmus will end up getting eventually. Maybe they won't, but don't you think she'll take it as an insult if you try to help? As if she couldn't do it herself? Not that you'd mess anything up, but I get the feeling that Reena wants to be able to prove that she can handle the situation, even if that means letting him come to her. To me, that suggests that she's the one in control, and if Kadmus is too stubborn to resign any kind of power to her, than that's his loss, isn't it? Not her's. She'll be fine, but let her find her way through. That's the only way people learn. We can't hold our younger siblings hands, no matter how much we might want to."
Not one but two steps of boots start to ring out from the direction of the lifts. A quiet, murmured conversation is being had that sounds suspiciously like Nitrim and another voice, and as natural, Nitrim is talking most of it. Shrugging off his heavy coat as he turns the corner to view the main room, he slows and glances to Ithaca at his side, nodding in the direction of the sofas. "Hey, let me introduce you to someone." Nitrim comments, and then moseys over into earshot. Coat flung over his forearm, he clasps his hands together and looks up to the two of them. "Hey guys…Anabethe? Did you get my message? Es. Messages."
Rook shuffles in with Nitrim, the diminutive hacker looking better than she did a few days back when she had that cardiac incident in Nitrim's room. Devon has clearly been doing well on helping rehabilitate her. She freezes just for a moment at the sight of strangers, but then Nitrim is moving and she follows. She nods to the pair on the couch, looking a little fidgety in a new skirt and off the shoulder shirt that don't quite seem to mesh with the combat boots on her feet.
"I'm very bad at leaving things alone." Anything else Anabethe might say, though, is interrupted by the sound of others arriving, and she pushes up onto one elbow to see who's there. It gets a bit of a wince out of her, but she manages a small smile for her brother and Rook. "Hey. Yeah, I got your messages. Glad you're sticking around for a bit." She pauses, looking over both of them for a moment. "Are you both doing all right?" That's it. No yelling. No accusations. Just, are you all right.
The paralyzed Ash Knight looks on over when Nitrim and Ithaca strolls in. "When it's something you need to start learning, before I beat it into that thick head of yours." Flint grunts, reaching over he lap from one of her beers, now that he's seen where she's been hiding them. "Hey, Nitrim." he calls over. Everything else he doesn't comment on. Being family stuff an all.
Like throwing a bag of groceries, Nitrim two-arm tosses the black coat onto the back of a chair to free his hands. Fingertips flexing, he reaches to the side of his head to scritch at his temple and then crosses over to the back of the sofa. "I'm feeling pretty good, yeah, fuck it's so good to be home." Nitrim admits, leaning over the back of the sofa to pull his sister into a wookiee of a hug, planting a kiss to the top of her head as he squeezes a bit longer than normal. A rough week indeed. Freeing his sister, he slides a hand into the back pocket of his trousers and motions to Ithaca. "Flint? Bethe? This is Rook. Rook? This is Sir Flint Grantham and Young Lady Anabethe Khournas, my sister."
Rook watches Anabethe and Flint from beneath a fall of dark hair. She has an infirmary bracelet around one wrist, the sort that you need sharp scissors to cut through, so she is clearly a patient from somewhere. At the introductions to people that sound very important she dips her head and her eyes hit the floor. What would Lyrienne tell her to do? Um… "Hello," she manages.
"Where's my kiss?" Flint pouts. "Asshole."
"I've got your kiss right here." Nitrim grumps over to Flint, offering him a pair of knuckles while he points to his crotch.
"You can try," Anabethe snorts at Flint, though she returns Nitrim's hug as well, grip firm even if it causes another slight wince. "Nice to meet you, Rook," she adds when she sinks back to the couch, offering a small smile. "If you're hungry, we've got some snacks," she offers, gesturing to the tray on the table. "And I've got beers. Reena only licked mine so far, so they should be safe," she adds, rolling her eyes at the boys.
"I'm not kissing that, I -know- where that's been." Flint grins back. "And not even a drink beforehand? Tch, -please-. Gotta work on you stlye, kid." After stealing one of Bethe's beers, he twists off the cap. "Evenin' Rook. How's it goin." the Grantham greets easily. "If you don't, I will. Gonna soak up the Khournas hospitality before I get thrown out on my ass. Before my chair's thrown at me after."
Clapping a hand down over Flint's shoulder as Nitrim passes, he reaches out towards Rook and shoulder-bumps her, nudging his head towards the tray of food. "They're cool, it's cool. Flint pulled my ass out of that mine when my collarbone was broken and Anabethe…pulled me out of a lot of other things." WARNING. CODE SPEAK. With a trot over to the other sofa, Nitrim leaves room for Ithaca as he props a boot against the coffee table and reaches out for a sandwich. "So we've got fucking Hostile in the factories now, huh? Do you think you can talk Father into pulling me back a bit so I can help you guys sniff them out? Landing's been really quiet lately."
Food? Is there food? Rook makes a beeline for the cheese and crackers and sausage and begins to nosh. She looks like she could stand to be force-fed a few dozen cheeseburgers by the thin appearance of her frame. This is the good shit. She gets the uber processed crap for meals in the Barrens of the Ring. She's mostly lived off frozen pizzas until she met Nitrim. She passes on the beer for the moment. She's still on weird meds for the small heart attack. She barks out a tiny laugh at the banter between the men before shoving snacks in her mouth. Flint addressing her has her freezing again, before swallowing down a maw full of crackers. "Going good?" she replies, sort of.
Anabethe discreetly taps something into the remote that controls the television, summoning up more food once Rook starts to go to town. She may not be the best at etiquette, but at least she knows the basics of feed the guests. "I can talk to Dad," she muses at Nitrim's question. "But given recent events, I'm not sure how he's going to feel about it. You know how he gets when he thinks people are shirking." Which seems to remind her to twist enough to look around the room, as if he's going to show up. "You think I'd be here like this if I didn't have the excuse of being injured?"
Since this appears and sounds a lot like family talking about stuff and whatnot, Flint is more or less going to shut up for the time being, content to drink his beer. "At least you have a legitimate excuse now." he points out, then drinking.
Nitrim points to Flint, then nudges his head to Anabethe and where he's pointing. "That's what I'm saying. I'm not shirking. I don't shirk like I used to but things at Landing have been quiet and a couple of days of padding the Khourni numbers with a reserve Awakened badass could do us some good. Fuck I bet even Rook would want to hunt some Hostile." Nitrim nods towards Rook before easing back onto the sofa and bracing his arms on the back of it, reclining. "So how are you two sweethearts doing anyway? Flint, you totally came to check up on my sister after she got hurt, didn't you?"
Realizing she may be hogging the snacks, Rook sidles over to sit beside Nitrim, wiping the crumbs from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. Classy. She grins a little though at the mention of hunting Hostiles. "Boom." That's her commentary on that subject.
"Right. Badass," Anabethe smirks at Nitrim. "Actually, Devon was pretty badass, to be fair. Five Hostiles, three of us. I'd say we did pretty well." She reaches for a pillow to chuck at her brother at the talk of sweethearts, though. "You start throwing that word around and I can come up with some stories to tell about you, you know," she drawls, smirking as she takes another swallow of beer. "I can pull out the baby bath rub pictures."
"Hey, I'm not saying you shouldn't be out there. I think you're wasted just doing busy work. If I could be, I would. But what can I do to Hostiles right now? Break my legs at them?" Flint notes in return to Nitrim. The comment about him visiting Bethe, just gets a non-verbal grunt in initial response. "That's exactly right. Don't see any harm in dropping by to make sure she's alright, do you? Mean, she can to visit me when I was laid up in the hospital." Then the pillow gets thrown, chuckling. "Save that blackmail for when it counts, Bethe."
"What's a bath-rub Bethe? Is that something You and Flint do in a bath tub?" Nitrim laughs, catching the pillow, but the weight of it sends the pillow back to bonk into Ithaca. Thump. Nitrim offers Ithaca the pillow and reaches for his cigarette case. "Fuck you guys both know I wanted my rites. Busy work has its place but when we've got Hostile on our doorstep I want to be here. It's as simple as that."
Rook is not used to being in a skirt, which is made apparent when seems to be trying to figure out how to sit properly so as not to advertise her new underwear. She grabs the pillow, smacks Nitrim upside the head with it, then puts it in her lap to conceal any accidental panty shots. "I like baths."
"No, we fuck in the shower, thanks." Flint clarifies dryly. Is he being honest or sarcastic? Hard to tell. But there's that topic of rites again. "Are you going to make me say I'm sorry again, Nitrim? Because I really don't want to. Already got enough guilt from that, I don't like remembering. And if there was way to make that up, I would. But I don't know how. There's better things you could be doing than sitting behind a desk. It's a damn shame."
"Pain meds!" Bethe replies to Nitrim by way of excuse, falling back again with a slight wince and holding a hand to her side. "The threat stands. But I'll talk to Dad about pulling you back for a little bit." Just then, a servant arrives from the kitchens with a tray of mini burgers, dropping it off for the group. Bethe thanks the woman by name, smile flickering, before she claims one of them. "Besides, I need guests while I recover. Otherwise I'll watch entire seasons of The Bold and the Dangerous."
"Oh shit. Rook's been watching that the last few days." Nitrim laughs as he's bapped by the pillow. Eyes flashing over into white, he lights his cigarette with the palm of his hand and snuggles up against the arm of the sofa, crossing one leg over his knee. "I might have to try to get that show canceled or get Jane Wyre to try to get onto it or something. That shit is horrible." He muses, leaning forward to look to Flint. "No apologizing man. World works the way that it does. Just give it time."
Rook opens her mouth to say something about Flint's shower comment, then thinks better of it and clamps her mouth shut again. Then Beth goes and mentions daytime TV which Ithaca has been forced to watch in the infirmary for DAYS. "Oliver is a douche to Donna," she quips, as commentary. She looks longingly at the burgers.
"If you could come back, I'd agree in a heartbeat." Flint states. "I thought you and Ashleigh were working something like that out." he asks, trying to remember the last time they spoke over stuff. Bethe gets a nod. "I'm here for everyone else's benefit. Because if she had no one to keep her company, she'd be losing her goddamn mind and driving everyone crazy. I take the hit, so you all don't have to. You're welcome."
"Right?" Bethe agrees with Rook. "And he's not hot enough for her to put up with it, either. Granted, he ought to be with Lauren, and he knows it, so maybe that's his problem." Because they're real people, you know. Or something. She tilts her head to arch a brow at Flint, smirking. "What, because you're suffering here?" she drawls. "I mean, you know, if I'm hurting you with my sitting here in pain, you just let me know."
"Donna's super hot, though, which is why he's with her. I think?" Nitrim chimes in. "Donna's the one that killed that guy that duck-lips all of the time, right? FUCK ME WHY DO I KNOW THIS?" Nitrim suddenly blurts out, planting his hand into his forehead as he slumps back to the sofa and rests an elbow on Ithaca's bare knee. Bare knee? That's new. "Flint? Ashleigh offered to train me but I have to keep dropping in and out, and I've been here helping Rook. I swear if there were six of me I'd be fine."
"Right!" Rook exclaims in total agreement with Beth. Wow, she's almost a real girl today. She leans against Nitrim like he's some sort of security blanket. "Helping me. A lot," she adds to his words. She flits a half-lidded glance at Nitrim. "World can barely handle one."
"No no, it's okay." Flint pats Bethe's knee. "There are just some things you for those you give a damn about. Your suffering isn't nearly as bad as my mental anguish. But, I shall soldier on." Such a large cross to bear for him, isn't it. He gives an 'ah' expression to Nitrim. "So that was it. I'd say you should take her up on it, just as an excuse to be around the Pit more often but…you seem to be pretty busy as it stands."
"Six of you would be more than we could possibly keep track of," Anabethe shudders dramatically at Nitrim, though there's a grin to go with it too. And Flint gets punched in the knee. "Whatever. Careful, or we'll find something for you to do around here. It might be hard, since you can't reach the high shelves, but we'll figure something out."
Not like Flint can actually feel her punch his knee. "That is so damn weird." he notes, watching. "Still not used to that. Anyways, I should probably get some kind of sleep before you all put me to work. So I'm going to go find one of your guest rooms to go pass out in." Apparently, he's gotten good at moving from furniture to his chair, because he's able to lift himself up and then drop into the wheelchair. "Nitrim, good seeing you again. Don't be a stranger at the Pit. We miss you. Rook, good to meet you. Bethe, put a bra on. Night all."
Nitrim glances down the plane of his shoulder to the girl on his arm, and in a moment of absolute scandal he rests a hand on her bared knee for a squeeze. "I'll get my training in, Flint, I promise. It's what I want for myself, I'm not going to miss it. I just have to come and go in waves." He calls out to the man as he starts to leave. Turning his attention to Anabethe, he smirks broadly to her and lowers his voice. "Bethe? I thought you should know…Rook's been helping me keep off of the stuff when I'm not where you can kick me into line."
Rook seems to be fascinated, watching the interaction between the siblings and their friend. It's something she's not accustomed to, people acting like friends and family. She raises a hand to give Flint a jerky little wave of farewell. At the squeeze to her knee she gives Nitrim a small smile, and nods at his words. "How I wound up," she holds up her wrist with the infirmary bracelet. "Flushed mine, so he couldn't get to it. Mom was addict. Before I was born. Getting off now though. Devon helping."
"Good," Anabethe nods to Nitrim, then grins at Rook. "You have my full permission to kick his ass when he needs it. I'll even help." She shifts enough to let Flint go, nodding to the knight. "I'll make sure someone comes in and sees to it you've got everything you need. And I'll see you in the morning."
"No more bullshit, Anabethe, I mean it. I'm going to info-mail you both, Reena too, when I need to get talked down." Nitrim tosses out the mission statement as he pats Ithaca's knee and starts to stand. "You're going to be hearing from me every week and I've already given Rook permission to kick me in the face. This is my goddamned family and this hoping shit has got to go. I need to step in and be a drake."
"Should head down. Staying infirmary nights. Reduced doses. Weaning," Rook notes. Devon's been slowly easing her off the Red Eye. Going cold turkey, like she did last week, is apt to kill her after a full lifetime of reliance on it. She pauses, reflecting on what Lyri would do here. "Nice to meet you," she says to Beth.
"Glad to hear that, Nitrim," Anabethe nods soberly to her brother. "If we work together, we can do this. And nice to meet you too, Rook," she adds with a small smile. "If you want to stick around a while longer, I've got more episodes to watch," she adds, dipping her chin toward the projector. "But no pressure either way."
"My projects." Nitrim murmurs quietly to Anabethe as he leans into Rook for a snug before guiding her by the small of her back towards the lift. "She's my lifeline on them. My best friend." Nitrim adds, giving his sister a look before he leans out and pulls her into a soft hug. "Breakfast tomorrow, Bethe? You're a good sister. I'll cook it, even."
"Tomorrow?" Rook offers to Beth. She can't miss her dose or things go badly. She hugs Nitrim briefly, before she heads into the lift and out.
"Sounds good," Anabethe says to Nitrim and Rook alike, smile quirking as she returns her brother's hug. "You two take care. I'll see you in the morning."