Rosestein Stone (stone_solid) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-08-18 15:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, rosestein stone |
Takes so long for these wounds to heal—tell me it's not really real.
Who: Stone & Ari
What: Serious conversation. A request.
Where: Coffee shop in the Commoners’ District
When: This afternoon
Rating: PG-13?
TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of child abuse
Status: Complete
It had seemed like the best night of her life. The morning she came back from The Snuggly Duckling from her slumber party was a peaceful one, and she’d even returned her neighbors’ greetings with a little smile. She had entered her dumpy little house in the Tenements just in time to see her mother throw an empty wine bottle at her brother’s head. He’d been in tears prior to this, she could see, and was holding his head, trying his hardest not to wail, now, and the color on Stone’s face paled to be replaced with an unearthly red of rage. She didn’t remember what happened after that—Did I really rush Mom?—and the next thing she knew, she was right next door at Old Tilda’s, Audren’s head wound getting tended to by the crone with what little white magicks she knew in her more charitable days, and sending a message Ari via the network. Stone hadn’t known why the bard was the first person who came to mind, but nonetheless she was. They were arranged to meet in the small café they’d gone to sometime earlier, when the thief had tried to grill the older woman about her relationship with Aspel. Aspel, oh Faram, she couldn’t be taken into account for this decision. The dark-haired youth knew she needed to do this before she managed to talk herself out of it. Ari approached, now, and it seemed Stone’s body visibly calmed in relief. She told herself everything could wait, though, until she was actually here, and resisted the urge to start calling out to Ari. They had worked together off and on, so being contacted by Stone hadn’t seemed strange — but the urgency of the summons, now that had been the thing which had Ari rearranging her schedule to meet the young woman the very same day. Thief Stone was tough. And she hadn’t called Aspel — whom she surely knew better — but Ari, which meant the issue was probably related to guild business. The Spymaster’s challenge for the ball? It hardly seemed worth this sort of panic... And Stone’s expression was far too grave for it to be something so simple, though Ari smiled anyway, played the part of a carefree friend as she took the girl by the elbow and steered her to a table in the corner, as far away from other patrons as possible. Most people sat outside in this weather, so as long as they kept their voices down, they would not be heard over the hum of coffee-making equipment. “Wait,” Ari cautioned softly, then smiled brightly at the waiter, made her order and waited for Stone to do the same. Only when the boy in the black apron had departed did she ask, quietly, “What happened?” Taking a moment to sigh deeply, Stone made a conscious effort to blink back the tears that were welling up. It’d been a few months now since she’d actually cried, and while she had no reservations about it, in front of a friend? That wouldn’t do at all, even for someone as ‘down-home,’ to put it politely, as the thief was. “You know my mom?” she finally spit out. “She’s... she gets drunk a lot, you know? That’s why I don’t... really like the stuff. But like, big deal, right, everyone drinks, no need to get so high-and-mighty about it and I—oh, hell. Ari, she hit my little brother. She threw a damn bottle at his fucking face. I don’t... something happened, and—and she... I just—he’s with the laundry lady because he got hurt, and—I... I just can’t do this anymore.” It was refreshing for her to finally admit it, a cool relief not unlike the feeling of one of Ari’s songs washed over her. Perhaps the truth in and of itself was a kind of magick. “I can’t go off on my own, hunting relics and treasures in some magickal cave off the coast of Faram’s Rosy Ass, or hunting in Sir Richington Gilsalot’s manor on a rumor I heard some prissy brat spew out of their mouth, all the while not knowing if I’ll come back alive, leaving the best thing of my life with an—an abusive piece of shit that claims to have given birth to us.” Closing her eyes, another deep breath was taken, sucking in air through her teeth. Stone, at first, thought she’d leave them closed, escape the commitment to her words by removing herself from the scene. Putting her hands to her damp cheeks—when did she start crying?—Stone opened her eyes, staring directly into Ari’s. “Ari,” she began, “I can’t stay in Emillion anymore. Mom’s gone so far past the line, she erased it. And couple that with everything that’s been going down, and I just—staying here’s not—going to be a thing anymore.” It was a terrible way to end a sentence, Stone knew, even with what was, in her view, a limited grasp on the Common Tongue, but it would do. “Can... can you help me?” Stone finished. It seemed to be an impossibly enormous task for anyone to undertake, but if anyone could do it, it’s Ari. Or at least, that’s what Stone hoped. Ari listened, quietly, as Stone explained the situation. She was unsurprised then the tears started, and said nothing, only unfolding and offering her napkin as a makeshift handkerchief. She had known, to some extent, that Stone’s home life was... not ideal. But she hadn’t had specifics, had in fact never bothered asking for them. Thieves’ Guilders stuck together but asked as few questions as possible of their fellows. It was just safer for everyone that way in an organization that throve on secrets and subterfuge. This though... she had very little concept of true familial hardship, really. She knew, in a vague sort of way that many of her comrades came from households that were troubled in one way or another, but her parents, at their very worst had always loved and protected her, even if her mother’s methods were somewhat misguided. It was hard to imagine why a mother would hit her own child, but... It happened, she knew. She didn’t have to understand it to know. But she was so ill-equipped to handle something like this — a crying girl, a broken family... Well, she had been the one Stone called, so she supposed, ill-equipped or not, she had to try. She put on another smile, slightly sheepish, as if to say, please do excuse my friend, when the waiter came back with their drinks. Fortunately, in the way of most males, he retreated quickly at the sight of female tears. Once he was out of earshot, Ari spoke again. “I take it finding a place of your own and taking your brother out of your current house isn’t an option?” she asked, finally. “I know things in Emillion are troubled right now, but surely it cannot last forever, and.... that isn’t what you’re asking at all,” she finished, answering her own question. “Where do you want to go?” Supposing she could call in a favor or work out a barter — Stone wasn’t useless — it was a big world. And, she thought, letting out a sigh, there was still the question of the boy. “How old is your brother? Can he work? Can you two support yourselves on your own?” Drying her face with the napkin offered, “He just turned eleven,” Stone relayed. “I think we could do stuff on our own, he listens and he’s a good boy... Faram, I just—why? Why did she hit him? What the hell could’ve possibly—ugh, I don’t need to do this right now,” she cut herself off before she could resume the tangent. “Yeah, I think we could do it if we tried. I don’t want him blaming himself for what happened, whatever it was, so going home isn’t an option. I’d need to go for my stuff, Faram Himself knows that bitch would probably pawn it off if I didn’t come back for it in a week.” “He I wanted to try and be some kinda healer. I think he likes the idea a lot—helping people and peacefulness were always one of the best things about Audren... He’s just such a good little boy, even when I don’t come home for a few days, I just—” And at that, she forced herself to shut her mouth again, lest she launch into another sobbing tirade. It was bad enough that her voice was unsteady yet from the crying a few seconds ago. “A bit young for the mages,” Ari said with a sigh. Not that they’d take him anyway without a hefty tuition. She wasn’t that well-acquainted with the systems utilized by the Mages’ and Fighters’ Guilds, but their training wasn’t free, for certain sure, and they didn’t seem to take payment in barter for training, the way their own guild often did. There was a reason so many of the poor ended up in the Thieves’ Guild, and it had everything to do with practicality. And... she had held off answering the question as long as she could, and Faram, she was not the adult for this, Aspel surely could have handled it better than she would, but the smith was here, wasn’t she? So Ari said, her tone gentle, “I’m a strong proponent of... moving past things, instead of working through them. Perhaps not everyone would tell you that packing your things and leaving is right, but I don’t think you’re wrong. If someone doesn’t deserve you...” She shrugged, sipped at her coffee, then said, with a bit of hardless creeping into her voice, “then you are best off not wasting your life on them, or asking why. Sometimes, there is no answer, because some people don’t behave as rational humes ought.” She reached out, squeezed Stone’s hand, told her, “Drink your coffee. I won’t pretend it will make anything better, but it’s something to do.” She thought, fleetingly, of calling Altair and dumping this problem on him — with his piles of gil relocating a girl and her little brother would be easily done — but then reconsidered. Stone had her reasons, too, and thieves didn’t air each other’s problems, especially among work acquaintances, so this particular issue was hers to solve unless she refused it. She might have, even a few months ago. She didn’t think on it long — that she might have unloaded it on Altair, or Aspel, or anyone else who wasn’t her, really — because it didn’t seem the thing to do right now, with Stone’s swollen, reddened eyes looking at her with something very close to pleading. Well, all right. She wasn’t any good at saving people in ways that didn’t involve physical injuries to be soothed, but she would try. “Give me a few days, all right?” she said. “I need to think about it. At the very least, I can find you free passage... somewhere.” Though what Stone and Audren would do there, far from Emillion’s guild network and without contacts for steady work... “I’ll send you a message before the end of the week,” she promised. “We’ll see what I come up with.” “Alright,” Stone replied, before bringing the cup to her lips. Warm. It seemed to soothe away her fears for now. A pregnant pause, and she spoke once more. “Ari, thank you. Just... I know this is some heavy, fucked up shit, and I ran to you ‘cause it was the first thing I could think of. And I just... it doesn’t seem real. Everything.” A sigh, and then, “But it is, and that’s why me and him are going.” It was enough, at least, to say that; it reaffirmed her resolve. What would she say to everyone she was leaving behind? That didn’t matter at the moment—a bridge to be crossed later before it was burned. “I mean it. Thank you.” “Thank me once I’ve done something,” Ari told her. “And now, chin up, wipe your face, drink your coffee, and let me tell you a story...” Stone enjoyed gossip, Ari knew, and after all, she knew plenty. The least she could do right now was make the young woman laugh. |