* * *
Katherine
* * *
To mock a great opening line, picture this: Gerald standing in front of me, happy all over his beaming, punchable face, hands on his hips, the very picture of a heroic retard.
"Okay, Katherine, I forgive you."
"I... okay wait, what?" I swear, that was so out of nowhere that I can't figure out a way to kick him for it. "Will you just get out of the way? I need to go see the Judge."
"Oh, Daddy's not in his office. Come on, let's go talk." Gerald grabs my hand. I jerk it away.
"I think I can hear and speak perfectly well right here." Right here is in the hallway that leads up to 'Sy's office suites. Not very private, mind you, but the Armed Hall isn't very populated right now anyway. Besides, I really don't want to talk to him right now, so I'd rather get it done with fast. By the look of his pouting face, I'm going to guess it won't. Fuck. "Look, why don't we just have this talk in his office? It's empty, and it'll give Benny some peace." I lead the way and don't wait for an answer.
After settling down in two of the chairs in front of 'Sy's desk, I realize that not only is this positioning really strange without the Judge behind the desk, but we're repeating a scene from earlier in the day. Except Benny's not here, she's in my office. So without her or the Judge here, I'm missing all the buffer that I'd like to have between Gerald and I.
Great.
"...Well?" I cross my eyes, fixing him in my vision.
He shakes his head. "Sorry. It's just been a long day, and I've had a lot of revelations. Look, I wanted to put the issues between you and I to rest."
I raise an eyebrow. "Hence the sudden talk of forgiving me?"
He grins and nods. "Yeah. It's all in the past, Kathe. I'm okay with you picking Dad over me."
"I... wha?" In the past is an understatement. That's literally a lifetime ago for him. I didn't even know he was still thinking about it.
"I understand that it definitely looked like I was dead."
I look at him in stupor. It's like somebody just smacked me in the face with a fish. "Gerald? You were dead."
"Yes, but I was gonna come back." His face looks comically pained. I'd feel bad for laughing, really I would, but-- "Kathe, don't laugh!" He's laughing too, though. Dammit. Now we're both going off, and I don't know if we can even stop.
"Okay, fine, you died. Then you came back. What does that have to do with me deciding who I want in my life?" I pin him with a glare. He deflates a bit, but only so much.
"Well I um..." He looks off to the side, unable to meet my gaze. A little sheepish, and... I don't really want to notice that he looks hurt, but he does. "I came back and my girlfriend was suddenly with my Dad, Katherine."
"Oh." I'd never really thought about that. To tell the truth, I'd never really given much thought to Gerald after I left him. Not in the romantic way, at least. I was just glad to see him alive, and I'd found who I wanted to be with then, so what was the point? In retrospect, it does seem very callous. Only... "I wasn't your girlfriend."
"What?" Gerald jumps in his seat, a glare sliding onto his face. "What the hell does that mean?"
I roll my eyes. "You remember how you died? In a war? In a city that was being infiltrated by Nul's forces? And how we triggered that war whenever we rode into that place without any caution or discretion whatsoever, and everyone started attacking us and then fighting with each other? And how the reason we were so indiscreet was because we were riding pell-mell into and through the city, firing our Arms at each other, because we were going to kill each other? And that we were fighting because of a lover's spat turned ugly? Really, Gerald." I can't even look at him.
"Well I..." he sighs. "Damn. I didn't really think about it that way."
"Yeah." I run my hands through my bangs, neatening them. "You didn't think much, then."
"But I don't think that counts as a break-up, does it? It was just a fight. We tried to kill each other all the time back then." He's so smug and self-assured. "Katherine? Something wrong?"
My head is in my hands, face hidden from view. He's just so dumb. "Nothing. I'm tired."
"Okay. I'm gonna go out. I wanna catch up with everyone. Dad's at home. I bet... I bet you need some rest."
He sounds guilty. "I just need to get my work done. Do you feel better, Gerald?"
"I guess I do." There's a long pause. "Katherine, I'm sorry about... stuff."
"I am too."
"You have a good night, now." The door closes, and I'm alone. I give him a few moments to clear the area, remind myself that I really shouldn't destroy parts of 'Sy's office in anger, and for once succeed in not doing that. After a few more moments, I get up and make my way to 'Sy's house.
I'm not sure what the hell the point of that talk was, but at least Gerald stopped and went away. Maybe he's finally got it in his head to leave me alone for the next fifty years and get over it. I can only hope.
I was thinking about important things. I was getting somewhere, dammit! Then Gerald had to go stuff his face in mine and go on about long-dead relationships and his effin' Dad and how he'd forgiven me. Okay, fine, whatever. Time for dinner. I can go talk to 'Sy about all this stuff and we can possibly start to get things straightened out. Time to leave all of today's idiocy behind.
I open the door into the house, then close it. Feels pretty empty in here. Strange. It's pretty dark, too. I walk into the kitchen and am immediately struck with the sense of something being wrong. I realize it's because several bottles are missing from the wine rack. 'Sy always replaces the bottles as they're used, so it's pretty odd to see several empties. Maybe one of his kids got into them for a party--no, that's stupid. The house has very clear wine rules that they've all learned early in life. 'Sy's also protective enough of his wine that nine times out of ten he tells them to go buy their own. (The tenth time is when Stevane and Jenny both make the pleading-kitty-eyes at once.)
It's really strange to see so much of the wine gone at once. That's five bottles. It's not a party's worth of wine, and Theos knows 'Sy's drunk more than that on his own before, but it's up there.
I walk out of the kitchen and hear piano music in the study. Of course. Tesynnodai's own sanctuary, a quiet room where he may sometimes entertain close friends or talk seriously with family, but mostly it's his own to withdraw into. Especially when the children are younger (and more are always coming along, believe me), the house can become more chaotic than my partner would like. The study has always been his private place. Not just a relaxtion room, but his office away from the Armed Hall. Even the younger children knock and wait before entering.
By the sound of his piano, he's had a few bottles of that wine himself. I pause before the door, wondering if I should even come in right now. Then I raise my hand and softly knock.
The playing stops.
* * *
Gerald
* * *
I'm thinking about Katherine. Well, not really about her at all. More about the past, and how much of it I've spent not looking ahead, or giving a thought to the present. How much of it I'd spent still thinking I was with her, to be more clear. It's a huge stretch of time. My whole life since I died that one time, really. How did I not see this? Why didn't I realize? It's like a great weight has finally shifted back and fallen off of my shoulders. A waiter comes up to the table I'm sitting at, breaking me out of my reverie.
"I'm sorry, but kittens aren't... allowed in this bar."
My confused expression must tell him a lot, because the thin, dark-haired man heaves out a pained sigh, brushes his bangs away from his face, and then softly taps the top of my hat. I realize that I really should have felt more of a firm impact from that, and also not heard a 'squeak'. I tip my hat down, causing whatever's on top of it to roll off and onto the table. It squeaks again, looking up at me, a confused flurry of feathers with a fluffy tail attached.
I raise an eyebrow. "Shenanigans?"
The waiter snorts. "That's what the manager would call it."
I laugh. "I'm sorry, I had no idea." ...That it was even on my head. No wonder I got some strange looks as I claimed our table. "I'll deal with as soon as my friends get here."
The waiter nods, that pained expression still on his face. I glance at his nametag. Chuck. He cocks his head. "How big a party are we talking about?"
"Oh, pretty big. About ten people, maybe more. A bunch of us from the Poet Hall are having a celebration of sorts--"
His eyes widen. "Poets? Oh shi--" He cuts himself off. "Right! Poets. We're so happy to have your esteemed patronage here. Allow me to escort you to a bigger table..."
After I'm seated at the new table, I peer down at my shenanigan. I... guess it's mine. Jhe h'Logos did get my signature, after all. "I think your name is Jasper. You look like a Jasper."
The black-furred kitten raises one rust-colored eyebrow, the matching tip on its tail flashing like copper as it lashes back and forth. It ruffles its chocolate-colored wings, then settles against my forearms, tucking its rusty paws underneath its chest. Funny. It's colored more like a dog that a cat. Well, winged-cat-thing. A soft purr rumbles up in its chest. Jasper will do.
"'Ey! Gerald! Nice table you grabbed for us!" Erynn looks around inside the pub. "Huh. They're wising up to us, seating us away from all the other patrons. Might have to start looking for a new venue..."
I notice the shenanigan peeking over his shoulder. "Yeah, and they've got a strict 'no kittens' policy. That one your fault too?"
Erynn spit-takes. "Oh, that's rich. Don't worry, I'll talk to the manager if it comes to that." He grins down at Jasper. "You got one too? Good! Stevane should have a couple, is she gonna come?"
I look away. "She had some duties at the Hall--"
"Always working, that girl is! Deplorable."
I move away from that topic. "Anyway, where's everyone else?"
Erynn looks back over his shoulder. "Hm. Good question! They were following me in... looks like they got held up at the door. Here, let me go finesse the management a little." He walks off, and I'm left alone with my shenanigan. After a bit of a wait, he arrives back at the table again, alone, and looking fidgety. "So yeah, uh... they really meant it about that kittens thing. And... animals in general, I guess... something about this place not being a zoo. Plus some disparaging side-comment about Poets belonging in a zoo. So we're all gonna party in my room." He grins. "Plenty of booze there anyway. Come on!"
I chuckle, then get up and follow him. With Erynn, it's always something. There's a bit of a crowd outside waiting for us - and at the sight of me, some grinning faces. Well, this is a bit larger of a gang than I expected. Gerude came as a given, but I haven't seen Amanda in quite awhile - and what's that thing she's carrying? Some sort of round case with a cloth draped over it. Rachella's showing a keen interest in it, whatever it is. Mikhal's with us too. Then there's--
"Jax? Why are you looking so down? Want to be back out in the field again?" I pat him on the back. He just looks up at me, a hint of terror lingering in his eyes.
"Huh, the field? Man, I've had more than enough of that for now, let me tell ya." He sighs, his shoulders slumping. "No, it's a girl."
I blink. A girl? Oh. "...Huh. Well, maybe it's not all lost. Did she uh... come with you to Radia? Or did she stay home?"
Jax's face turns sour. "She's staying in my Dad's suite."
"Oh." I pat him on the back a bit more heartily this time. "Man, I know exactly how ya feel. Next time we get allowed into a real bar again, your drinks are on me for the night."
* * *
I don't know why Erynn even bothers going out. His suite pretty much is a bar in itself. I think this as I sway towards a chair near the corner, trying not to bump into anybody in the room. The room is, by now, awfully full.
A pair of hands gently push my back, guiding me. "Watch out now, honey, you just got back. No need to plaster yourself all over the floor." The voice has a drawl to it that indicates she's just as inebriated, if not moreso, than I am. I turn, as unwise as that is while being guided to a seat.
"Amanda Cee?" I kinda lost track of her in the haze of the party. Where have all these people come from?
She grins. "The one and only. Now sit yer petard down and share a drink on me." Wow, her grammar is really disintegrating. If she were a Poet as well as an Armed, she'd probably be speaking in some other language by this point. We each have a seat, after sorting out which chair is whose in a confusing knot of giggles.
Another voice joins in the laughter, and when I look up to its source I'm faced with the prettiest blue eyes I ever did see. They fade into a honey brown that's even prettier. I cock my head, regarding Rachella Hawksgard and wondering just what Poetry I caught her working just now. We gain our Poet King's eyes when performing that art sometimes, hence the change in color. It's either that, or I really am that drunk. But I don't think I am. Amanda is sloshed, I'm just dizzy and happy.
It takes me a few moments to realize that the girl is smiling back, and that confuses me. After dwelling on my past with Katherine, I'm a little unused to the idea of girls smiling at me that much. I notice that the strange little case is next to her, still covered with a cloth. She breaks away to peer inside after tugging the cloth away on her side. A charmed smile creeps up on her face, and she giggles again.
"Lemme see!" shouts Amanda, and I'm elbowed to the side, right in the ribs even. I let the girl at the case, no fight from me. "I wanna see em one last time."
Rachella sighs. "You know, if you really wanted the dears, you should have gone out and looked for Lyric, same as all of us."
Amanda snorts. "This is a Poet thing. Armed bounty was the sandwich. I'm pretty relieved that Mikhal took that bullet for Gerald, come to think. Guy's walkin' around like he's fine tonight, and if he pukes now it'll probably only be from drinkin'. There's a stomach of iron on him. Gerald's a more delicate man than that, bein' a Poet and all. Ain't that right?" She pats me on the back repeatedly, cackling. It's not so much pounding as patting, really. Damn is she wasted! I just grin and nod, trying to follow this conversation. Amanda drags the cage close to her, parts the curtains just a tad, and then sticks her nose in there and peers with the most serious of expressions. One precisely-groomed eyebrow raises in a deadly hook, and then her expression softens. She sighs, sits up, and scoots the cage away. "Alright." She turns to me. "You can have 'em, you bastard. Treat 'em right, or I'll shoot you. Stick my gun right up in your mouth and pull the trigger." Her expression is deadly serious. I keep nodding. "Okay." She scoots the cage over to me.
Rachella watches it eagerly, her excited gaze skirting up to my face every few seconds, waiting. I scrunch my eyebrows, then uncover the cage. Inside is a pair of tiny sparrows. Rachella squees.
"Aha! You gave him the bounty!" I'm almost knocked over from the blow against my back. Erynn gave it a pat. He's wasted too, very much so. "Congrats, 'Rude!"
"That's Gerald, you brain-stewed idiot." Gerude's voice rises up from behind Erynn.
"I can teach you how to take care of them," whispers Rachella over the table. She gives me a wink.
I return it. "I think I'd like that," I say.
There's a bit of a blur after that, which is when I do share that drink with Amanda, who ends up passed out on the floor after going into a drunken, sputtering confession about how she's worried for her brother Cary, who's out on yet another dangerous mission, and she's so glad I came back in one piece, and she loves those damn birds so much. I think they must remind her of her brother. I also think that I'll give them to her when it's proper - after Rachella teaches me how to care for them, for instance.
The other part of the night is spent making fun of Gerude's ridiculous goggles, after which we have to prevent Erynn from trying to replace that missing eye right then and there while drunk as a skunk. I like laughing at my twin brother, but in the state Erynn's in, 'Rude'd probably wind up with an eyeball on his ankle.
After all that, Rachella and I find a place to go talk, which results in us falling asleep on top of each other in a drunkling, giggling heap.
* * *
Camden
* * *
"Are you sure you don't want to go to your brother's welcome back party?" I say, easing Jenny's shoulders back onto the bed.
Her nose scrunches up, pert, her mouth curling as she tries to hold back a laugh. She raises an eyebrow at me. (Her Daddy's eyebrow. Do you know how much the resemblance makes me shiver when it shows so strongly? If she were anyone else, the effect would make me lose my immediate drive to conquer.) She raises her hands, covering the round swells of her bare breasts. My heart pangs with dismay at the obscuration of two splendid artifacts of beauty. "I'd have to get back into my clothes right after you went through so much trouble taking them off for me."
Well, that settles that. I sink down into the pleasures of the evening, both of us taking such pains to keep the act quiet and concealed that, were Julia here, she'd qualify both of us for her division. After all, Jenny and I both have appetites that even the Advocate might not pardon me for sating.
