"Facing His Daughter" Log Date: 12/7, 12/8, 12/9, 12/10, 12/17/99 Log Cast: Jenara, Richard, Moirae (NPC emitted by Jenara) Log Intro: Some small number of days have passed since Richard learned of Moirae Julia Nemeides, the daughter he'd never known he had. Since that discovery he has striven to keep as sharp an eye on House Nemea as possible -- though even the Rook must be thwarted to some degree when it comes to spying upon a House staying even temporarily at the Palladium. He has had, therefore, to resort to the time-honored method of paying intermediaries to bring him information. Fortunately he's found some in House Nemea who are sympathetic to him: the young Mongrel woman Jenara, whose father Ian remembers the young darkling who'd been exiled from the House. And through Jenara, Richard learns that his daughter is desperate to see him. It takes much to give him any kind of trepidation whatsoever. But a young girl of his own blood? That'll do it. And with quite a bit of trepidation he has to fight to hide, Richard agrees to meet with Jenara and Moirae at the Pantheon.... *===========================< In Character Time >==========================* Time of day: Afternoon Date on Aether: Wednesday, September 6, 3905. Year on Earth: 1505 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Waxing Gibbous Season: Late Summer Weather: Partly Cloudy Temperature: Hot *==========================================================================* The Pantheon - Haven(#350RDJM) Bright frescoes decorate the walls of this large, pentagonal room, depicting the rise of the city of Haven with Delphi at its heart. The domed ceiling is supported by four marble "atlantes"--statues carved to resemble youths from each race. The figures are expertly rendered and painted, if somewhat stylized, and they hint that this establishment caters to clientele from each. A long, marble-topped bar runs along the last wall where refreshment may be ordered. The air is laden with the smell of richly prepared foods and ambrosia, suiting the exclusive nature of the tavern. Rose marble tiles decorate the floor, which sinks toward the center of the room in a series of three pentagonal terraces. Situated at the two higher terraces are fine tables of polished oak--those on the outermost terrace long enough to seat larger parties. The lowest terrace features a shallow pool, lined with greenery and replenished by small fountains. (See 'places'). Contents: Jenara Obvious Exits: Arch Out Jenara walks first into the Pantheon, the hot hour finding many people staying home to avoid the heat of the day. Following close at her heels is a small Empyrean girl who keeps peering around her nurses elbow obviously looking for someone. It takes a bit -- Richard is not sitting near the entrance. But he can eventually be spotted, sitting alone at one of the side tables, sipping pensively from a glass of ambrosia. He, too, is on watch; his gaze has been lingering on the door, and he sits up in his chair, glass lowering to the table before him, as the Mongrel woman and her charge enter the establishment. Jenara gives her charge a significant look when the girl looks like she want sto run forward. Moirae gives Jenara a sheepish look but keeps her feet paced with her the mongrels. When they approach though the child's eyes dance and she has to bounce on her toes to keep from flying at the man they've come here to met. She offers instead a polite and soft "Ave..Richard" He has been masquerading as a Mongrel for over a decade -- but this doesn't mean he doesn't still have a gentleman's manners. Richard rises at Jenara and Moirae's approach, his expression under control save for a slight trace of unsettled bemusement lurking about his eyes. "Ave, Moirae," he answers in husky tones, before his attention flicks to the older female and he adds, "Ave, Jenara. Will you two join me?" With one hand, he gestures at the empty seats that ring the little table. Jenara slides into a chair, while Moirae plops down into one closest to Richard. She smiles happily her eyes just watching you. Jenara smiles "Ave Richard..I can keep the child out fer about an hour or so..but after that we have t'be headin' back" at the start of a protest from Moirae she simply holds up a hand "Ach..ye told me ye would no argue wit me on' this. If ye do I will no simply bring ye Aye?" Moirae nods pouting.."Aye" Richard doesn't sit until Jenara and Moirae have claimed their places, his gaze lingering with that same trace of bemusement upon the winged girl as she claims the backless stool that will provide the best accommodation for her wings. "An hour," he acknowledges, trying to figure out exactly what to say in what seems to be such a scant amount of time. How to summarize fourteen years in an hour? Settling at last back into his own seat, he blows out a breath and opts to start with something uncomplicated. "Are either of you hungry? Thirsty?" Jenara shakes her head.."Nae Richard I be fine..and ye Moirae ye want somethin'??" The girl nods "Yes please. It's hot outside. Something to drink would be welcome" trying so hard to appear all grown up and mature. Her bright twilight colored eyeses can't keep from Richard though as eager as decorum won't let her act. A short nod, and with that, Richard turns to seek the notice of one of the young servers working the place. A discreet lift of his hand catches the eye of a lad across the way, and upon his arrival, the seated man glances at Moirae. "What would ye like, eh, lass?" A subtle change in his accent brings back a taste of the lilt of the streets, now that the server is in earshot. Moirae grins "just some juice please." her eyes flick to Jenara "if that's okay??". Jenara just laughs.."and here I be worried ye'd ask fer ambroisa lass. Aye that be fine". At that permission Moirae grins at the server nodding as if saying yes that's what she'd like. Thinking once again of her manners she asks Richard politely.."how are you?" "The Pantheon," pipes up the Mongrel server lad, in very careful enunciation that suggests he's working hard to make his own accent sound upper-crust, "has a number of juices available, domina, including apple, grape, and orange. Do you have a preference?" Richard smiles a bit, letting Moirae make her selection, and seeming unfazed by the rarity of the juices named. Jenara hides a grin as she lets Moirae choose. The girl however seems very unimpressed, her fmaily's richer than Midas so rare juices are hardly a rarity. "Orange please" somewhat haughtily. She's far to old for grape or apple. "Ye heard 'er," Richard drawls blandly to the boy, who inclines his head graciously and hastens off to fetch the requested beverage. Only then does the wingless one return his attention to his companions, his twilight gaze flicking from Jenara to Moirae, and with a small rueful quirk of his mouth he says quietly, "To answer your question, my dear, I'm well enough. Thank you for inquiring. I trust you're both well, too?" Back goes his accent, seamlessly. Jenara nods trying to fade into the background a bit and let Father and Daughter get to know each other a bit. The server comes back with the young lady's juice adn then disappears. Moirae's bright gaze just dances over you words, questions threatening to bubble over. And Richard, seeing this eager young gaze seeming to drink him in, eyes the young girl before him as though he still can't entirely figure out what she's doing here. "What," he asks gruffly, "has my face turned green or something, lass?" Is that embarrassment roughening his otherwise velvet tenor? Very possibly. Perhaps the man's not accustomed to being gazed at in such open excitement. Moirae, flushes and bites her lip looking down at her juice at the reprimand. She shakes her head,black curls falling forward to obscure her face from view. "no Richard." She picks up her glass and sips from it. Jenara for her part sighs and catching Richard's eye shakes her head and mouths "gently..go gently". Ach, now, he hadn't meant to embarrass the child. The embarrassment in Richard's expression grows rather more obvious, and although he doesn't exactly _blush_ per se, still, he can be perceived to appear troubled now. His twilight gaze flicks over at Jenara, taking in that mouthed advice of hers, and then he returns awkward attention to Moirae. "Sorry, amorita," he murmurs ruefully. "I... am not at all... certain what to say to you." Moirae glances up at the endearment a smile growin on her young face. "were you hapy to find out? 'bout me I mean." she asks tentiatively as if she can't quite belive that any man of her family would be happy to make her aquaintance. "Mother said you were, but she looked so sad.." "Happy," comes Richard's bemused reply, as he tries to strike a balance between truthfulness and the disturbing sense of recognition he feels for the anxious look in the young face turned towards him, the need for approval he can sense in Moirae's query. His cup of ambrosia forgotten, he stares over at the girl and finally manages a small, sheepish lopsided smile. Thunderstruck is a far better word for the sentiment he's experiencing, but it seems to Richard that a white lie... or at least a near-white one... is called for here. "Aye, my dear. Surprised... very surprised, but I daresay happy will come." Moirae may be young but she's watched other's from teh shadows for all of her 14 years. She does not miss the hesitation ..the careful selectoin of words and once again her face falls and she murmurs softly.."I don't blame you." Sipping once again from her glass she looks over at Jenara for support. The mongrel woman can't help the tears that fill her eyes nor the brief sharp look she gives Richard. But it's hard for all concerned and she realizes that so she simply smiles at the girl encouragingly. Ouch. _Now_ Richard, confronted by that dismayingly wise reaction from Moirae as well as the teary, sharp look from Jenara, falls prey to a hint of a blush. A wince flickers across his features. Slouching back in his chair, he shoves a hand through his disheveled dark hair and mutters in self-directed annoyance, "I appear to be making a glorious start of this, don't I?" Jenara smiles at Richard and actually reaches acros the table to briefly squeze his hand "Jus' be talkin' with the gel man! she'll nae bite ye..will ye Rae?" she asks with a wink to the girl who laughs shyly back shaking her head. "I'll be leavin' ye two alone fer a bit. I'll be oer there visitin' wit m'cousin. He works here" that said she rises and makes her way over to a group of mongrels taking a break. What--wait! Sitting up again, Richard starts, first at Jenara's reaching for his hand... and then at her abrupt departure. And then all at once he's left alone with this black-haired, blue-eyed, white-winged child that so obviously resembles him that he cannot help but wonder how Cleon could have missed her paternity for fourteen years -- if indeed his older brother had. That seems as good a topic as any, and Richard finds himself lamely blurting, "Cleon. Do you know if he knew you weren't his, lass?" Moirae blanches a stark white. How to asnwer something like that. Well directly would be the best she figures. "Yes, he knew. Though I didn't realize it completely until then other night when 'Rasmus hi...when /he/ arrived.But when Mother told me it all made sense. . Richard absorbs that sudden pallor, as well as the forthright answer. But what leaves him feeling not unlike he's been punched in the gut is the mention of his _younger_ brother. For a fraction of an instant, the wingless one sees red behind his eyes, his slim frame going rigid in involuntary reaction. Erasmus. His brother. His betrayer, arguably even more than this child's mother had been. "Erasmus... is here?" he hears himself asking, in a voice that sounds strangely distant to his own ears, and he vaguely wonders that his tone doesn't seem to reflect the surge of turmoil that's just shot through his system. The girl can not hide the fear that dances across her face as she nods. "and he knows your here. Somehow he found out. Thats why he hit Mother..someone told him you two had been talking." bits of boiling anger rise up in her voice even though she keeps her volume low. "I don't think he knew I was there...he said..he said the most awfull things.." and she shudders her small frame trembling slightly. Only with a fiercely concentrated effort is Richard able to wait until the red clears itself from his vision. Then and only then does he ask, his voice pitched soft and low to try to conceal the anger still threatening to blot out his reason, "Girl, has he harmed you?" Moirae shakes her head."No he's only hit me once and that was years ago. Mother threatened to kill him if he ever did it again. I'd never seen her so ferocius. And he belived her I guess for he's never touched me since. He ywlls though..never in pubilc. I never understood why he hated you so until now.." her voice droping to soft whisper. This child before Richard is the daughter of the woman who betrayed him... but still, she's also _his_ daughter, and the thought of his younger sibling having struck her even once long ago leaves a sick, cold, twisted feeling in his gut -- a feeling he doesn't want to explore too closely, for it's disturbingly akin to the reaction he's having to the idea of Dulcinea being struck as well. Several reactions fire across his thoughts, first among them the sardonic thought _There's a _reason_ my brother hates me?_, but what Richard finally says is a somber, "I'm... sorry you've had to experience such things." His voice roughens a bit, the words emerging uncertainly. The girl tilts her head and looks at you intently. Intelligent gaze sweeping over you."You don't know what to make of me do you? You hate my..our family..it's obvious and you have good reason to. But me? You don't know where to put me in all of this. You're wondering where I fit. Mother told me alot of things that night. She told me what happened to you..she told me it was her fault. I think she didn't want me getting my hopes up." The hero worship in which she'd wrap up your image is starting to crumble..what will replace it? It obvious she wants some kind of connection..but how given the past. What in the world to say to questions like _these_? Richard stares at the girl, blue eyes meeting blue, dismay once more etching its stamp into the set of his features. He can see the beginnings of disappointment affecting the face that is a youthful, girlish mirror of his own, and for a few moments, he cannot think of a reply to save his life. All he manages, eventually, is a hoarse, "No, amorita... I... don't know much of what to make of you." Then, a bit of surety regained. "I don't hate you. I don't _know_ you, but I don't hate you." The girl nods thoughtfully.."Well that makes sense I suppose. I will admit I thought you'd hate me as much as you do Mother." her voice slightly miserable. Looking for a subject she asks.."you've been in Haven all this time? "I'd like to think," is Richard's strained, husky reply, "that I'm... a decent enough man not to hate a child for what her mother might have done." That's as much of an answer as he can give to accusations of hatred towards Dulcinea, a topic he most assuredly does not wish to pursue with the daughter he shares with her. Rubbing the back of his left hand across his eyes, he then nods heavily. "Aye. It seemed a more or less logical choice." The girl sets her elbow on the table and rests her head in your hands. She's one for asking those difficult questions though in the manner of children everywhere. Besies she's trying to understand the events leading to her life. "Is there nothing you'd like to ask me? I've been the one asking so much." she laughs slightly. "It's rude of me to do that" Richard manages a smile. This time, his answer comes more easily. "To be honest... I'm not sure where to start. I've never been a father." And now, to discover he is not only a father, but that his offspring is not too far off from being grown herself... well, the man's managing to refrain from looking as though someone's belted him in the head with a shovel, but this may well be either a testament to his fortitude or to the simple fact that it's been some days since the news was originally sprung upon him. "And I... can't say I really know too much about young Empyrean girls." Well, perhaps he doesn't qualify as 'hit over the head with a shovel', but he does qualify as 'awkward', drawing on what few old memories he has of dealing with female younglings of his kind. "Perhaps you'd... just like to pick a place and start talking, eh? I can promise I'll listen." Moirae chuckles softly and nods."Well Mother named me Moirae Julia , after you apparently much to Fath...to Cleons disgust. I play the harp and I sing. My embroidery is awful. I can't dance but ..( here her voice whispers ) Ian's gonna teach me how to throw a dagger. This is my first time away from teh Villa and I /love/ Haven it's so exciting!" She rambles on for a while about al lthe little things she does wiht her time. Butit's obvious she spends much time alone or in sneaking away. True to his word, Richard does listen, succeeding in finding a balance between his still very new consternation at having a living, breathing daughter... and a subtle kind of charm stealing over him at her eager outpouring of words. Was he ever that eager when he was her age? Probably not, it seems to him. "Ian's a good man, he'll teach you well," he approves, a smile curling his mouth. "And... aye. The place gets in your blood, it does. It's dangerous, make no mistake, but that's part of the fun." Now a hint of his normal rakish humor begins to lighten his mood. Richard takes up the cup from which he'd been sipping, and after wetting his throat with a touch more of the ambrosia he adds straightfacedly, "I'll trust you've already been advised on how to keep watch on yourself around here?" Moirae wrinkles her nose at you."Of course! Several tiems a day .every day. but it's become a joke as to how long it take for Arys to find me. Of course now that he's here I won't be able to get out much . Mother threw the most wonderful party! The suite looked wonderful /everyone/ wsa there . It was almost as grand as some of the fetes she's thrown back home. I watched from the skylight.." "Everybody like who, hmm?" Richard leans back in his chair, the smile still tugging at his lips, though a spark of intent interest kindling in his eyes sets off that casual little smile. "And when you're done telling me who you saw -- tell me why Haven's dangerous, eh? If you know, I won't need to tell you." Moirae starts listing off the names of vaious noble houses and many of the wealithiest families in Haven. To answer your question though she pauses and grows thoughtful. "Cuz there be so many people here. Pickpockets and theives are just the surface. And wit the trajedies of late people are poorer hungrier..that makes them angrier.. To this, more solemnly, Richard inclines his head. "Plague, earthquake, and the troubles with magic," he answers, "and before that, the war. I'm glad you know of these things, Moirae; anyone with half a mind to handle Haven has got to be aware of what's happening here." For a moment, the smile goes away while he says these things, but then makes a slight reappearance. "It seems Nemea fares well, however." The young girl nods though she does not seem happy about that really "Oh yes. The House is doing qute well. Some of the othe more minor noble houses have made overturnes about betrothing Momus ot one of their daughters..and heh's only 3 so that must mean the House is making quite the repuation for it's self..."her voice trails off and then she swallows as if gathering up her courge.."Richard..will you..may I..When the House leaves Haven..may I stay here..with you? For a long moment, Richard goes very still, eyes widening at that anxious question as he stares over at the youngster before him in what can only be shock. Finally, with an effort, he manages to rasp, "Lass... you don't know what you're asking." Moirae leans forward, intent eagerness on her face, "I do, I know that I don't want to be around my Uncle any longer. I don't want be in a place where the only person who cares about me is Mother and the servants. I want to do and be my own person and I /can't/ do that in Nemea. When we are home I am never allowed outside the estate, I never get to /do/ anything. Erasmus makes Mother hide me away like I'm some pariah..please.."she swallows and says softly.."please Father..don't make me go back.." Father. That single word, to Richard, feels as though it pierces right through his chest. He _wants_ to argue, to tell this child that for all the common blood between them she has no conception of the kind of life he leads, of the fact that if word got out to certain of his associates that the Rook had a daughter, she may well have her life in danger in ways she could never imagine. He opens his mouth. He closes it. And then he remembers the pledge he's made to the Mongrel girl who's left them discreetly alone, and between that and the force of the desperate young gaze turned upon him, Richard finds himself whispering, "You... wish me to take you away from here, right now?" The young girl hovering on the edge of womanhood shakes her head."No not right now. The House is only here temporarily to establish a presecne in the trade and social life that flows through Haven. Once that is done Mother and Erasmusu will be returning to the family estates leaving only factors here tomanage buisiness. When they leave I want to stay. "I'll need to find you a suitable refuge," Richard says then, inwardly surprised at the composure with which she's managing to speak, while he still feels as though he's barely capable of organizing a coherent thought, much less voicing it. "My current residence is not exactly... safe." Moirae nods.."I know..I know this is alot to ask. But /you/know/ you know what it's like. Only it must have been so much worse for you with black wings too..and if I am not there Mother and Erasmus will not fight so much. though Mother will miss me.. As far as Richard is concerned, the less he lets himself say about Dulcinea, the better. His mouth twists into something not entirely like a smile as he acknowledges, "Aye, my dear... I've... a clear enough idea of what you must be going through." It is this, bizarrely enough, that gives him the clarity to get back his inward composure as well as his outer. He, too, leans forward and drops his voice to a whisper for the maiden's ears alone. "When you are ready, Moirae, there is a woman in Bordertown you can go to if you can't find me. Her name is Kate; she's a Mongrel, and she makes my shirts. She also takes care of the two children you saw with me in the Rialto." Now that's she's asked and it sounds like you agree some of her hardwon compsure starts to crumble and the hand that holds the glass of juice trembles slightly as she listens. She nods putting the name into memory. "Kate, alright." she whispers softly waiting for other instruction you may give. "She runs a shop called the Stitchery. She's usually there, because she's crippled and can't walk very far. The children, Roki and Elette, I've got running her errands." Richard pauses then, frowning as he notices the signs of strain about the girl. It seems to him now that some sort of gesture of comfort is called for, though the Rook finds himself more and more out of his depth. It's been one thing for him to comfort and shelter the children of his dead partner -- but this child, _this_ one is _his_. And thus it's almost shyly that he reaches around the table's corner for one of Moirae's hands. "I'll... make sure you've a safe place to be in," he promises, voice turning rougher, but softer as well. The child actually flinches at the touch of a male hand before she relazes a bit. She offers a small smile."I know you will...thank you. Jenara she wsa gonna try and help me leave but she may have to go back to Nemea with the Dea." Moirae pauses for a moment.."actually it would be better for her if she didn't know about this. That way she can honestly say she doesn't know and that way she can't get into trouble..." her eyes going a bit distant as she considers that she is truly going to be leaving all she know. That little flinch is noted... and awkwardly, Richard limits himself to briefly squeezing Moirae's hand before releasing it. _Probably a good thing I didn't try to hug her,_ he thinks dourly, while at the same time managing a return smile. "Ach, well, chit, if you don't want to tell anyone, you're going to have to remember directions I'll have to give you if you want to find me on your own. Can you do that?" Moirae relaxes visibly and she nods.."Yes. Ian says I have the best memory he's ever seen. We play a game where he puts all kinds of items on a table at various levels adn stuff. It's covered with a sheet and he uncovers it for just a second or two while I look at it and then I have to tell him what's there. I almost always get it 100 percet. I can remember the directions" she says a little proudly. A larger smile eases Richard's countenance, then, and he nods in appreciation of such a feat. But still, he keeps his voice pitched low and soft. "All right, then, lass, commit this to your memory. Don't write it down, things written can be found and read." And softly, very softly, using the Rialto as primary landmark, he shares the directions to the ramshackle little sewing shop called the Stitchery. For good measure he then adds, brows winging down over his eyes, "If I can, I'll make sure a... friend of mine in Delphi knows to look for you, too. You'd be safe there too, I'm thinking, but your... uncle might think to look for you there and raise a stink. He probably won't know of Kate and her shop." The girl nods as she commits this to memory..having flown over the Rialto a number of times she has a good idea of where the shop is. She snorts at the though of Erasmus raising a stink over her."He'd just as soon hope I was dead. It'd be mother who would raise a frantic search. I hate the idea of just leaving but if she knows she'll try to stop me. Though..if he thinks I'm with you. /Now/ that might cause a real problem for you....he /hates/ you." she worries her lower lip concerned that her flight might place you in danger. The impulse to squeeze the girl's hand takes Richard again, and he holds back just in time, afraid of unsettling her by too much contact too swiftly. As gently as he can he assures, "I don't think there's much he can do to me, Moirae. Besides -- anything he'd try'd require he _find_ me." He lets a spark kindle across his gaze and a restrained but devilish grin curl one side of his mouth. "If there's one thing your da's good at, it's hiding when he doesn't want to be found." A heartbreakingly sweet smile spreads across her face, like dawn rising in the east and /her/ hand reaches out toward you.."that be the first time you've ever done that.." she marvels utterly pleased. "Done... what, lass?" asks Richard, bemused but not at all unpleased himself. He squeezes that offered hand nevertheless. Moirae tilts her head and smiles at you again.."said "yer m'da" casual like..like you meant it. LIke it wasn't bad." He... _did_ do that, didn't he? Richard blinks, moved by that profoundly delighted expression in the girlish face before him. And then he breathes, voice gentling without his needing to will it to be so, "Not bad at all, lass. I'll... need a bit to get used to it, is all. But it's not bad at all." Jenara heads over to father and daughter with a soft smile on her jaded face. She stands behnd Moirae with a hand on her shoulder.."child..it be time t'think 'bout goin'" she says softly with an aplogetic glance at Richard. Moirae looks up at Jenara , rebelious for a moment and then nods though none to happy about it. She rises and looks around, the place is fairly deserted..absolutely no one near by so she dares a small kiss to this odd enigma that is her father."Thank you Father.." is her soft farewell. Father. There it is again. Richard swallows down a lump threatening to form somewhere within his throat, when Moirae's mouth brushes the daughterly kiss across his cheek. Almost shy once more, he reaches up to clasp one slender shoulder, before swinging a glance up to the Mongrel woman and then back to her winged charge. "You're welcome... daughter. You're welcome. Be careful." Then his gaze takes in Jenara again. "Both of you." Jenara nods..understanding the danger even if Moirae doesn't."she be in good hands Ricahrd, Ian n'Arys be waitin' outside and I be havin' a cloak here fer her, Nae one will see a winged lass leavin' the Pantheon in the company o' Mongrels." She leads a smiling Moirae away as the child practically glows at being called daughter. "We'll nae be able t'come again fer a couple o'weeks..what wit his /lordship/ , very sarcastic that, bein' here we all be keepin' close t'the suite. They be havin' a set of rooms at Domus Solum and if ye need ye can always get a message sent via m'da or one o' the older House servants. Ye know the ones...ahh also m'sister be a Herald now so if fer some reason ye /have/ t'get a message and ye can nae get t' one o'us seek out Alyra, she be able t'get inside and deliver wit Heraldic immunity. But I be suggestin' that be used only in a dire emergency as that be raisin' questions. Richard's memory is as keen as Moirae's claimed hers to be -- and who knows, perhaps that acuity of recall is inherited? He nods once, committing this information to his remembrance and then rising. "I'll remember," he promises. One final clasp to his daughter's shoulder, and then at last he lets both of them go. He doesn't watch them depart... but even as the Mongrel woman and her young charge take their leave, the Rook's twilight gaze is full of tangled emotion. And he's well aware, even without looking, when the daughter he's only just now discovered vanishes out of his sight... and his ability to protect her. [End log.]