middaeg | June Catch-All

"Yeah! A little sister and brother too." A beat. "Well, they're not really my siblings. They're a foster family that took care me when I was abroad. I'm actually an only child."

He scratches at his cheek sheepishly. Even seven years later he's still not completely used to declaring that. Whether it was out of embarrassment or great pride he wasn't sure.

"It's been a while since I last saw them but, they ran a family diner. I worked there a lot and in return they welcomed me into their family."

And then he left them because...life just won't let him have that, though that bitterness and sorrow doesn't show on his ever smiling face.

Edited 2020-07-06 19:16 (UTC)

"Ah... you've the same as me," she says with a smile, counting off on her fingers. "I have an elder sister, a younger sister, and a younger brother, in that order. The second of four."

Though, she has to wonder about the way he seems to separate his biological family from his adoptive one. It's hardly an unusual scenario in Eorzea, orphaned or abandoned children being taken in by others, even of completely different races... Perhaps it's different where he comes from?

"But that they welcomed you with open arms is very kind of them. Family is family, even if it is not by blood, right? That's all anyone can ask for."

Sometimes better than what might've been with the biological family, even. Running away had crossed Irhya's mind in her teenage years more than a few times, but it always ended with her coming back willingly. Who would take her? Where could she run? Would anyone even want to shelter a brat like her? And yet, her need to rebel drove her to repeat the process several times.

"Keeper kids are typically raised by the women, both in the family and of the community. But my mom was kind of off-the-wall, between deep, black depression and bursts of energy. It affected the kids pretty deeply, so my dad came back to try and help. Big, happy, argumentative family... I guess." She sighs. It probably would be tacky to dive too deeply into that here, though; she cards a hand over her hair, ears popping back into place as she passes over them. "But I got through it, at least. I'm not nearly the angry little cretin I used to be."

He listens quietly as she described her family in detail that....struck a little too close to home. How does he even respond to that? How did it end for her? Did it end on bittersweet notes or...

"...Sorry."

He touched his cheek and swallowed. He really couldn't find the words, it's like they die in his throat or retreat into his mind where they can find safety from the horrid truth that he seems to have followed him here. He'll never be free of those memories, those terrible needles that stab through him and leave barbs to pain and hinder him from moving on.

That's fine. That's perfect for him.

He'd almost forgotten what he's supposed to be, who he's supposed to be. There was no happiness for him, that right was wrested from his hands long ago, and he picked up a gun to fill that space. A home gone, burned to the ground, so he's fought fire with fire to make things even. His enemies blot out the light, that's fine, he'll drag them down into his darkness.

But at least, he too isn't the angry little boy running around Queens anymore.

He's angrier.

He played with some invisible thread between his fingers as the moment passed by and, as if nothing had happened, he turned to smile at Iryha. Unperturbed and beatific. A practiced smile.

"It's good then, that you've gotten better." His voice sincere. "There's a saying from my world 'what doesn't kill you; makes you stronger'. I'd say this is true for you, no?"

If she notices the mechanical nature of his smile, she says nothing about it, crossing her ankles below. "Hah... yeah, I suppose. But I think it's the same for everyone. We're all carrying something or other around. Just... some more than others."

The conversation with Emet-Selch about her mother was more formative than he knows, perhaps. She hasn't felt so at peace with her family's general state in a long time, and hearing that just makes her think maybe she really can take it in stride.

"Trouble is, what doesn't kill me tends to kill a handful of others. It is... a hard thing to come to terms with."

"Well." He shrugged. "It's like you said, we're all carrying something right?" Whether that something also happens to be alive, running around, and stabbing things is just unfortunate.

"This has gotten into a pretty sad and dreary." Something he feels responsible for. "What do you like to do in your spare time. Aside from take river boat rides with strangers and weirdos, of course." He's one of those things, at the very least.

"Ahah, I guess so," she says with an awkward laugh. "An excellent question, though. I do a lot of crafts and handiwork. Sewing, leathercraft, smithy work, cooking... even writing and drawing on occasion. Anything that involves a creative process, I probably do it, or am at least interested in it."

Jack of all trades, master of... at least one or two, right? She grins, considering his comment. "I guess this is just one way I get a kick out of things. Some might call it an addiction to adrenaline, I suppose, but I just call it a hell of a lot of fun. I suppose 'whimsical' is another word for it... Hope that's not too intense for you or anything."

"I'd say you're just creative." And a busy body. "Though I kinda get it. I took up cooking as hobby when I was in the military, but I ended up falling head first into the thing and I ended up becoming a professional chef, baker, bartender, and picked up some other miscellaneous things related to it." He says with a sheepish smile and a voice full of pride.

"Oh by the way, I met your friend, Mira. She's quite nice. She told me about the 'dark knights' and the penchant for carrying really really big swords." Scary big swords. "I remember you had one too. Did you make yours? Your sword I mean." If she did, then it'd be quite impressive, not to mention make him realize that she intentionally made it bigger than her.

"Ha ha... yeah, that sounds kind of like what I do," she agrees, a chipper note in her voice as she twines her fingers together. "A little of everything in a given field, I suppose."

It takes her a moment to remember which sword she's been carrying on her, but after a short pause, she replies, "Ah, no, that one was inherited, actually. But there are a number that I don't have here that I've made. There was this realm-famous blacksmith lived in my hometown for a while, and I always aspired to the level of his work... I'm still not quite as good as him, as he's got a good few decades of experience on me, but it's something to aim for."

Caladbolg, however, just always felt special and meaningful to her, which tended to be what drew her to weapons more than their make and technological value. She covers her mouth with the side of her hand thoughtfully. "My current blade used to belong to the late master of a close friend of mine. An adoptive father to him, I suppose. He taught him all he knew about the dark arts before passing away. It was only recently that his disciple decided it was better served in my hands... though I feel a little bad about it still. I always felt like it should rightfully be his... but I think he feels he doesn't deserve it yet."

Then her look turns again, sharply interested. "So, what else did you and Mira talk about?"

Yet another thing that struck a chord with him. His thoughts drifted to the katana at his hip while she spoke. What is it with life and bequeathing blades that holds so much meaning, and his case, hardship and pain? Blades should just remain as blades, tools to be used to kill, maim, and generally give someone a very bad time for the being on the receiving end and only them. There's always a pang of pain whenever he drew his blade and that...that's just not fair.

He held his pain a lot better this time around. Her seeing him a bit troubled once was more than enough for one lifetime.

"Eh, not much. Just some small talk while wandering around the underground market place."

He never thought he would ever say those words in that order.

"She and I ended up in a class together when the Coven had those gardening classes. We came up with a dancing plant and I was mostly asking how that little guy was coming along."

June Catch-All

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