pyr min solemnly swears he is up to no good (twinclaws) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-06-14 08:06:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, !log, aspel cassul, pyr min |
Who: Aspel Cassul & Pyr Min
What: Advice!
Where: The Armory
When: Today (6/13)
Rating: Pretty tame!
Status: Complete!
It was a slow day at The Armory. A client had been supposed to come talk about a commission, but she had called to reschedule; after taking the message and cleaning a little around the store, Pyr had almost nothing to do. There was little point in going home, though the Councilor had suggested; he had a class to attend in Fafnir Hall in a little under an hour, and the smithy was closer than the new house. So he sat on a stool by the counter with a book on combat theory open before him (he supposed he would eventually need to learn this stuff, if he was going to take his class exam at 17) and toyed with the corner of a page, folding and unfolding it over and over, while watching the Councilor work the forge out of the corner of his eye. He had tried to concentrate on the writing on the page and the diagrams depicting every featured move, but had long since given it up as a bad job; he had never understood the use of reading boring descriptions of attack patterns when it was so much more intuitive to learn them by practicing. His thoughts had drifted off, from katas to Juliette to training and finally to Jareth. That subject was one he had been meaning to bring up for some time and, he supposed, there was no time like the present. "Councilor, do you mind if we talk?" he said. "I mean, there's something I'd like to talk to you about, if that's okay." Another clang of of the smithing hammer came before she could respond. Eyes were pulled away from the working of metal to glance over towards Pyr, an eyebrow rose behind the safety mask she wore. “You are welcome to speak regarding anything you wish.” The words came out muffled a bit, and somewhat distorted from behind the mask. “I will need to work on this a bit more, but should be finished soon. Would you care to speak while I work, or wait until I am done?” It might be easier to wait until done if he wished to actually converse, but if he needed to just get something off his chest, well, she certainly wouldn’t want to interrupt him either. "Oh," he said, sheepish. "No, I'll wait. It's okay." He made a valiant attempt to return his attention to the book, but it was no good. He could not focus on the tiny black letters on the page; he settled for squinting at a diagram of a girl in a defensive stance and tapping his finger on the page every time the Councilor's hammer clanged against the metal. He had no idea how he was going to broach the issue (he didn't feel there was an issue, which was apparently part of the problem) but Councilor Cassul had always been kind; she would listen, he hoped. It wouldn’t take long to finish the task, and dispose of the piece for cooling. With that done, the protective gear - sooty, and heated - was carefully removed as well. Clearing her throat, a nod was given in his direction, an eyebrow easily raised. “You wished to speak?” Whatever it was the boy was mulling over, Aspel certainly hoped she could help. Which if it were problems of a standard teenage sort it ought not to be too bad. Yet, with things as wild as they had been in Emillion, one could never be too sure of anything these days. Pyr nodded, still trying to figure out the best way to approach the question; he couldn't find it, so he dove straight in. "It's about Jareth. He told me a few weeks ago that he's not actually a Berserker; well, I mean," he frowned, "he is but his actual first real class is Fell Knight. I think he thought I would want a new mentor after hearing that. But I don't!" Pyr shook his head. "But even though I don't really think there's anything wrong with his being Fell because, well, the Guild wouldn't teach that if it was that bad, and anyway Divina was pretty cool and she was Fell too." He was rambling, he realised, but he had opened the door and now he couldn't stop talking until it was all out in the open. "So anyway Peony, I mean, my sister, that's the Mage Councilor," (and it felt strange to think of her like that, but he ploughed on), "anyway, she thinks I should write home about my mentor being Fell but I don't agree and I guess," he deflated, and looked at Aspel, "I guess I just wanted to know if you might have any advice on what I should do." With the gear removed, a wet wash cloth was fetched up to begin wiping down her hands, and face to assure that any remaining soot would be as minimal as possible before a sorely needed shower would be engaged in later. The topic broached was one she did her best not to instantly react to. It would need to be approached with a careful, and measured hand, especially if… Though, the boy continued on, rambling about Fell Knights, and his thoughts on them, and in… Some way, Aspel was just mostly relieved that it didn’t have to do with her. “Mm.” A nod was given to confirm that she was still listening as he recited his sister’s role in the local hierarchy. Though, his final deflated words, and the plea caused her brows to furrow, sincere consideration being given to the question as she pulled up a chair, sat, and crossed one leg over the other at the knee. “I suspect the sort of advice that may be most beneficial would depend upon several factors of sorts.” A pause. “Are your parents particularly Pharist?” Aspel assumed but… One could never be too sure. “Have they previously supported the Fighter’s guild regardless of class associate within your home town?” Another beat fell before she launched into speech again. “And have you given thought to speaking your thoughts with your sister regarding your feelings upon this matter?” “I told her I don’t care what he is,” Pyr said. Whether she had accepted that answer or not, he had no idea; they had not broached the topic since she had mentioned it on the network. “My parents are Pharist, but they’re pretty laid back. Sky and I have only started going to church regularly in the last few months, because Peony seems happy when we go.” He shrugged; then, as though he were trying to convince his sister through Aspel, “But he’s a good mentor. I bet there are plenty of fighters in the guild who wouldn’t be good mentors even if they’re not Fell Knights. So class doesn’t matter.” A slow nod was given as she listened, processing the words he spoke, and attempting to sort them out bit by bit. “Does she care?” A curious brow rose at Pyr. “Depending on what she believes, and her knowledge of your parents' views, your sister may simply be trying to do what she perceives as the best course of actions to protect you, and maintain peace between the relationship you hold with your parents at this time.” A beat. “Are they…” This could potentially be quite rocky ground. “the sorts to overreact if not given appropriate previous time to adjust to new concepts and ideas?” It was a complicated, and touchy subject, but one that may be vital in figuring out how best to proceed. Pyr hesitated. "My mother isn't too happy I'm here anyway, because of all the monster attacks. My father convinced her, though." He shrugged. "Anyway, I'm sure if they met Jareth they'd know he was a good person, even if he's a little grumpy. He's EKP, too." He said that as though it settled the matter of Jareth's suitability, and though it was not entirely an answer to the Councilor's question, he could not think of anything else to say. He didn't honestly know if his parents would see it the way he did, or the way Peony did, and he was scared that letter could potentially risk his being dragged back home. A slow nod was taken, considering how the boy kept going back to defend Jareth, and his choices on the matter. “It sounds as though you have already made your choice on the matter.” Aspel shifted, pausing as she thought through the situation a bit more. “All I can do at this juncture is to inform you of potential repercussions and allow you to make your own decisions.” Another brief pause. “Your own choices on this are paramount. They will help to shape who you are, and what you do as you move forward in your life.” Another beat. “Your sister speaks from a wish to protect and keep peace, as I believe any sister would.” Her own siblings, and the pain that her life would bring them sprang to mind. “However, if you feel her wrong, or unable to compromise, to discuss, or see the value in her wisdom, then I believe the responsible thing to do would be to inform her of your choice, and your reasons as to why you are making it. That way you have hide nothing from her, and her nothing from you.” And those words hurt the most of all for Aspel’s own heart, unfortunately, her hiding of the truth meant the difference between having a family, or not. She’d allow a few seconds to pass before clearing her throat. “Do you recall the words I spoke to you of finding your own truth?” A curious brow rose, perhaps he would remember, perhaps he would not, but honestly, Aspel hoped he would, of Faram, how she hoped he would. He thought back to a morning some months ago, himself lying on the grass weighed down by armor he was unused to after running alongside the Councilor for several miles. "Yeah," he said. "Is this one of those times?" “I believe it may be.” A gentle smile was offered to Pyr, one with just a touch of sympathy as well. “In the worst case scenario, your parents have found out not by your doing, and are furious with you, looking to drag you away and commit you to a Pharist school to teach you their beliefs, or disown you, and you lie to your sister in order to protect a sense of peace with her, and she finds out and is equally displeased, and disappointed in you. In the best case scenario if you choose not to write, and to lie to your sister no one ever finds out, but you have a secret you must keep for the rest of your life, as the longer a secret is kept the more harmful it can potentially come. Of these two options, in both of which you lie, which is the more favorable?” Pyr blinked. He did not know how to answer―was the situation really that dire?―but he wished they had a basket of food to wash down the conversation, like last time. “Uh,” he said. “I don’t think I like either of those. Don’t I get a third?” “Ah.” A soft laugh was given, one that was barely there at all as Aspel folded her arms leisurely, her posture amply relaxed as she shifted to half lean, and half sit against the shops counter. “Neither are absolutes. I am simply presenting you with the worst case scenarios. There is a wide range of possibilities between that and what could potentially occur.” A single arm unfolded from her torso, the hand gesturing absently with a palm upturned toward the ceiling. “The best case scenario, your parents could be pleased that your broadening your horizons, and your sister could find additional respect and appreciation in you standing your ground on your self made beliefs.” A beat. “However, no option presented is an absolute. Theories, possibilities, but not the reality of what shall unfold. I am, as I said, simply supplying you with a variety of ideas, and it is your job to sniff out which may be the best for the life you wish to live.” He could see what she meant, but the feeling that this issue was apparently more serious than he had thought remained. "Well," he said slowly, considering. "I'm not going out of my way to hide it from my parents. But I didn't write home when I was assigned to Fel just to tell dad that she was Monk class. Having to write to tell them that Jareth is Fell just seems like unfair treatment." A pause was taken, Aspel’s brow furrowing. “Well,” Another beat. “You are correct. It is.” Shifting she really wished she had a drink or a smoke right now. “However, when societal norms, and overarching cultural beliefs come into play, many people will look at a situation with completely different eyes.” A slow, slight shrug was given. “If you feel that writing is nonsensical, then follow that. However, if you believe that writing will assist in maintenance of your relations in one manner or another, then write, but consider as many possible perspectives, and outcomes as possible before you make your decision. Sincerely thought out, and conscious decision making, is the best advice I fear I have to give.” And really, it was. Maybe she was right; it was not her decision to make, and there seemed to be no easy way out of the situation. He would need to think about it in his own time, though the prospect of mulling the issue over was not a particularly appealing one. "Okay. I'll figure it out," he said. "Thanks, Councilor." A slight nod was offered as Aspel shifted, pulling herself away from the counter where she had rested. “My apologies that I cannot offer more concrete guidance, but you are welcome for what it is worth.” Hopefully, the encouragement to think things out, to make his own decisions, and way in life would be enough. A thought cropped up, and she paused. “Whatever you choose, please know that even if it is not agreed with, it will not change my decision, or I would bet Jareth’s, to support you in your continued growth.” And there was that. Shifting, Aspel turned, her focus beginning to fall back on her work. "Thanks," he said. He had not thought she might resent him for his possible choice--one of the reasons he had brought up the problem to her--but hearing her words reassured him. With a smile on his face, he turned his attention back to the book in front of it, and renewed his attempts to focus on it. For a long time, the clang of the councilor's smithing hammer on steel was the only sound in the forge. |