The Atlon Cousin

Log Info

• Title: The Atlon Cousin

• Emitter: Telamon

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Telamon's cousin, the sylvanori Algar Atlon, comes to town, and is enjoying a meal with Telamon when Ravenstongue comes back from the market. They discuss a number of things, such as the situation with the former lover of Ravenstongue's mother, the half-elves' impending marriage, and the possibility of Algar meeting and dating Ravenstongue's cousin, Adelaide "Addy" Branfeax. Eventually, the quiet cousin departs, and Ravenstongue and Telamon go inside their home to unpack Ravenstongue's forgotten goodies... but one of the garden pixies spots something suspicious down the street. (It's probably nothing, right?)

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes
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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Algar Atlon          5'6"                Wild Elf          Male      A dark-haired and tan wild elf who seldom speaks.                  
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Lúpecyll-Atlon home, midday

While Cor'lana is out and about, the man of the house is entertaining a guest. One he's been waiting to see for a while, and whom he's mildly perturbed by... but family IS family, after all.

"What the hells, Algar, you kind of showed up a day late there." Tel's voice is somewhat irked, as it sounds from the backyard. "I mean, I didn't expect you to hit him over the head, but at least give us some warning if he rolled back into town."

A pause. "At least say something, Algar."

The response is somewhat amused. "Why? I know it drives you crazy when someone refuses to cooperate." Algar pauses, before heaving a sigh. "But yes, you do need an explanation."

The two are sitting in the backyard in the sun. The remains of a good lunch sit on a table between them, along with two mugs of tea and a teapot. Algar is the same height as Telamon, but there the resemblance ends. His hair is dark, his skin heavily tanned, and his features aren't quite as finely graven as Tel's -- though he has a very similar chin and jawline to his cousin. Dressed in leathers over linen, he looks the image of a lethal elven woodsman.

"I was looking for Luthel in the active militia -- but he'd retired. So he wasn't popping up when I asked about him. By the time I realized I'd made the mistake, he was in the wind." Algar looks slightly sour. "And then he appears on your doorstep. So everything's all right?" He takes a sip of tea.

Telamon nods. "It was a little tense, but we worked it out."

There's more than just Algar and Telamon in the gardens, too, and they're not looking very respectfully.

Mirabilis, normally the more level-headed of the two, looks at Algar like he's a tall drink of water out in the middle of the desert. "Oh my," she remarks. "Apparently Lord Lúpecyll-to-be's family produces some fine stock."

"They're both dreamy! Either one of them would make lovely consorts for our lady! But she's made her choice," Lily-of-the-Valley says with a deep sigh. "I'm so happy we chose this garden and our Lady, Mirabilis. The view is just so nice--"

And then the two pixies yelp and dive for cover behind the trunk of their tree as Pothy comes flying through, nearly clipping the two where they were seated as he soars through the trees that overlook the garden. 'Lady' Cor'lana Lúpecyll, meanwhile, enters the house with a filled basket of goodies that she puts away in the kitchen before stepping out into the backyard. She certainly looks a little more like a fey lady, as she's chosen a cotton dress dyed a lovely spring lavender with a low enough neckline to reveal her curuchuil mark.

"Oh, here at last, Algar!" Cor'lana exclaims with a smile. "At least, so I assume. The family resemblance is there."

"If that mortal cousin of the Lady's doesn't want him, I'll take him," Mirabilis murmurs to herself.

Both men rise to greet Cor'lana, with Telamon remarking. "From your smile, I guess everything went all right, Lana?" He crosses to enfold her in his arms, before turning to Algar. "Lana, this is Algar Atlon, Telgari's son and my cousin."

Algar smiles, offering a simple bow to Lana, before speaking, his voice soft. "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to meet you when you and Tel visited Ylvaliel last time. The militia rotation is fairly strict." His eyes are dark like Tel's, but lack the stars that sparkle in them. They're more like calm pools, the surface of a lake at midnight.

Tel shakes his head. "Anyways, I've had my shout at Algar, which is never satisfying because he won't play." He gives Algar a mock glare, which actually draws a grin from the elf. "He figured out early on that in playing word games with me, the winning move is to simply refuse to play."

Algar simply shrugs, spreading his hands in a wordless 'What can you do?' gesture. Then, of course, the soft-spoken elf comments, "You two know you have pixies in your garden, right?"

"OH SHIT!" the pixies both cry out at the same time, holding each other suddenly for dear life like they tend to do when they're in trouble. Mirabilis's dark skin colors fiercely as she's suddenly caught in the middle of dude-watching--but Lily-of-the-Valley is mostly too far-gone in her own admiration of the two elvish boys in the yard that she doesn't have quite as much shame.

Cor'lana just rolls her eyes at the mention of the pixies and at hearing them yelp in surprise. "Yes, we have two pixies. They've sworn their loyalty to me as I am... Well, Lady Cor'lana Lúpecyll, according to some people."

She looks at Telamon for a moment mid-embrace as she asks, "You've... told him about my relation to Grandfather, right? I don't know how common knowledge it is that you're marrying into, well, the Lúpecyll family."

Telamon covers his mouth to stifle the laugh at the outcry. "I... probably should've mentioned Algar's had some experience with Ea-bound fey. He's really good at picking out traces. And yes, we discussed things. It was... productive."

Algar just gives Tel a look. "By which, he means I told him to mind his manners no matter how jolly things are with the Feathered One." The elf shakes his head. "But I don't judge, and you two are clearly crazy for each other." Algar's expression grows slightly sardonic. "Father, of course, thinks it's all marvelous. Uncle Tel is a little more reserved but I understand he and the Feathered One had a talk, so..." He shrugs lightly again.

"But, no, it's not my damn business. I just wanted to make sure you knew. Never seen garden pixies out in an urban area, though." Algar's expression is wry. "Rural areas tend to pick them up more often."

Cor'lana can't help but blush a little from Algar's remark about her and Telamon. "Well, Telamon is certainly very devoted to the concept of us," she says, and she follows this up with a kiss to Telamon's cheek--standing on her tiptoes as per usual to reach that high. "I am, too. I cried from happiness when Telamon proposed, after all."

The pixies are scrambling now to hide, with Mirabilis wailing, "Nooooo, I'll never be able to face the Lady ever again!" out of sheer embarrassment. They eventually find some foliage to dive under in the trees.

Cor'lana can't help but snicker a little at the topic of pixies. "Well, all sorts of fey have mad themselves known to me since Grandfather made me the head of the Lúpecyll family," she says. "We've been fortunate enough to receive some well-intentioned ones, such as the pixies, who are useful for Tel's gardening efforts. There's been one that we've shooed away for the time being."

Algar glances back at the rough area where the two pixies are hiding, but doesn't comment further. Instead he just smiles at Tel and Lana. "Have you set a date yet? I know you announced it, but we haven't seen any invitations." He pauses, and smirks. "Hint."

Telamon actually blushes a bit, both from the kiss and his cousin's rather frank inquiry. "It's coming. I'd like to 'jump the sword' before the end of summer at the latest. Adventuring's been fairly lucrative for us, so we'll be able to afford a reception for our friends and family."

Tel's expression suddenly becomes calculating, a look that makes Algar's eyes narrow. "I've seen that look, Tel," the elf remarks. "What're you up to?"

Telamon puts on an air of innocence. "Oh, nothing, Algar. Other than Lana does have a fairly attractive cousin. I'm sure she wouldn't mind being escorted by a scion of the Atlons."

"We're just making sure everything's squared away," Cor'lana says, still smiling just as widely. "Wedding planning takes some time, and Telamon and I haven't even discussed where we'd like to honeymoon yet. I can think of a place or two." There's some mischief suggested in her eyes, but clearly that's a topic to save for later.

Especially since Tel brings up one better suited for mischief! "I do have a lovely cousin. She's a half-elf girl, turning thirty years old later this year--she's a little taller than me, and she's actually almost a dead ringer for me, too. She has green eyes rather than what I've got--and she's a talker."

Cor'lana grins. "In fact, we could introduce the two of you a little earlier. I'm sure she'd love to get to know someone who isn't going to compare her to her adventurer cousin."

Algar eyes the couple perhaps with a touch of suspicion, but Tel's open face -- and Cor'lana's mischievious one -- convince him the offer's genuine. "Hm. I'll look her up." His eyes crinkle a little. "I don't usually talk this much, except around family. So it's not a problem if she's a talker -- she can talk for both of us."

Telamon chuckles. "My last attempt at setting her up with a date... didn't go so well. I'd mentioned her to some of the Chalice members, and, well..."

Algar's expression says volumes. He doesn't even say anything.

Tel just rolls his eyes at the silent reprimand. "Yeah, yeah, don't rub it in."

"They apparently kept being pretty rude to her. They talked over her, kept interrupting her, or kept asking her questions about me," Cor'lana says with a sigh. "I'm sure she would be more than happy to talk to someone who will just... let her talk."

Pothy finally flies down from the sky after doing his aerial rounds as he sometimes does--he has to keep the peace in the skies--and lands on Cor'lana's shoulder. "Snacks!" he says, looking at Algar expectantly.

Cor'lana pats Pothy on his fluffy little head and smiles. "Algar, this is Apotheosis, my familiar. Call him Pothy for short--and don't mind his demand for--"

"Snacks," Pothy says more urgently, finishing Cor'lana's statement for her.

"Yes, those," Cor'lana agrees. "He's a little black hole. Speaking of snacks, though, Addy, my cousin, can actually make a really nice cup of coffee. She also is a pastry chef and makes all sorts of lovely sn--treats." She has to catch herself at the end or Pothy will not stop demanding them.

Telamon just looks disgusted, though it seems mostly self-directed. "If I'd known they were going to be that asinine I would've never sent them on," he sighs. "Live and learn, I suppose. At least Addy didn't blame me for it." He looks to Algar. "You're going to be looking for Adelaide Branfeax, in the Cheerful Corvid Cafe." He grins. "If you visit, make sure you clean up first if you've been out in the woods."

Algar looks tempted to toss a rejoinder back at Tel, but then Pothy comes soaring in and begins demanding his usual tribute. The elf's eyebrows shoot up, an expression not dissimilar from one Telamon displays. "A white raven? That's a new one." He raises a hand in greeting to the familiar, before nodding at Tel. "Cheerful Corvid. Got it."

Pothy doesn't seem at all put off by Telamon's cousin. In fact, he actually flies from Cor'lana's shoulder to Algar's. "Snacks," he demands again, looking expectantly at the sylvanori.

"Pothy, come on," Cor'lana says with a laugh. "Don't harass Algar.--Yes, he's a white raven. He's an odd one. My maternal family's sorcerous bloodline works a little differently from others in that only one person at a time has an "awakened" bloodline. Pothy is always with whoever the inheritor is, and that person happens to be me at the moment. I got him from my mother, who got him from her father... And so on and so forth."

Algar seems unfazed by Pothy's demands, reaching up to scratch the raven's chest feathers. "Sorry, friend, I didn't bring anything. Maybe next time?" At least he's polite about not having anything. Algar looks over to Cor'lana with a furrowed brow. "Interesting. I've known a couple sorcerers, but... what Tel calls 'talent' is usually pretty indiscriminate."

Telamon nods ruefully. "Tell me about it. And it develops in all sorts of ways. Remember Indirel? That was very weird."

Algar's eyes flicker with amusement. "I thought father was going to have a full on tantrum when they figured out Indirel was a sorcerer and not a druid." The sylvanori grins to Lana. "A common friend of ours. Everyone thought he was a druid at first, but it turned out he had some kind of plant-related 'talent'."

"I can imagine his disappointment," Cor'lana says with a snicker of her own. "I'm sure Uncle Telgari is always chomping at the bit for new druids to teach and instruct."

She looks thoughtful for a moment. "Honestly, I think one of the things I'm looking forward to is... Well, is getting to call Telamon's parents Mother and Father without feeling like I'm robbing someone's family tree like I'm going through their cupboards for a teacup to use. I have cousins now, and I have Grandfather--"

"And Pothy," Pothy says, mimicking Cor'lana's voice. He seems to be enjoying Algar's scritches, leaning into the sylvanori's fingers. Pets may be substituted for snacks on a case-by-case basis, apparently.

"And Pothy," Cor'lana says with a grin. "Besides them, I don't really have much of a 'traditional' family."

There's a shared glance that passes between Algar and Telamon. Something they've talked about. Algar, however, makes a tiny motion of his free hand, the other busily scritching Pothy. It seems even a hard-bitten woodself isn't immune to Pothy's charm.

Tel's arms slide around Cor'lana again, and he looks at her gently. "Then let us welcome you to ours, Lana. You'll note, Algar over there is an elf. A 'true' sildanyari, for those who measure such things. And yet... we're family. If we were to go to his house..."

"Tent," Algar adds unhelpfully.

"...fine, tent," Telamon corrects acerbically. "He would welcome us in. We are family. The branches go in all directions and sometimes they're different, but they're all part of the same tree."

"I'm sure it's a nice tent, too," Cor'lana says, smiling. "Although, mmm, might be a little hard for Addy to get used to that. She's a city girl. ...Maybe you'll have to pitch the tent in her yard if it gets serious?"

Pothy looks at Cor'lana like she's an idiot, but only slightly. After all, he's getting the scritch of a lifetime from Algar. The woodsman knows how to treat a bird!

(Jury's still out on the other kind of bird, though.)

"But really," Cor'lana replies, "I'm grateful to know I'm welcomed to the family. I, well, bring a lot with me, and Tel's actually agreed to take on a new family name with me, but I'm grateful nonetheless."

"So long as the branches don't fall from the tree," Algar says a bit cryptically. Is he doing it on purpose? Hard to tell, he's got a pretty good face for cards.

Telamon sighs. "What Algar means is that as long as we're not abandoning our roots... whatever they were... it's all right to build new things. Which is the plan, Algar." He gives his cousin a look. "We're going to write a new story for Cor'lana and myself -- so the book of her life will have something better than loneliness." He gives Lana a squeeze, hugging her close to him.

"Now see, you can't keep doing that," Algar remarks. "You're going to make me all weepy." He grins, looking at Pothy. "I guess you're part of the deal. Don't let Tel give you too much grief -- but I'm confident he's going to be a darn good husband for Lana."

Pothy looks for a long, long moment at Algar. "Take me with you," he begs, mimicking an actress from the Theatre District. Clearly, Algar's pets and the idea of being free from the two lovebirds when they get a little too lovey for his tastes has some appeal to it.

Cor'lana rolls her eyes, but she's smiling from having Telamon squeeze and hug her. Impossible not to, really. "He's part of the package deal, yes," she says, "but he's pretty vocal about protesting whenever Telamon and I get too affectionate with each other. My mother was, to put it gently, a bit of a free spirit who collected lovers wherever she went--until she had me, that is--and he's still a little scarred."

She grins a little wider as she looks at Tel and says, "Pothy doesn't seem to complain if you bribe him with our leftovers, though," she remarks.

Telamon grins back at Lana. "Yes, but in the meantime he acts so put upon by the notion. What's he going to do when we're married and there's nothing he can object to?" His eyes dance merrily, as he looks to his cousin.

Algar, for his part, is just shaking his head at Pothy. "Sorry, my friend, but you wouldn't enjoy it. Long days of being on the trail or in the forest, dealing with interlopers and dangerous beasts, and convincing the fey creatures to play nice with the elves and each other. I suspect you're attached to your comforts."

The elf looks at Lana and Tel with a genuine smile. "That being said, you've gone farther than anyone expected, cousin. Oh, I didn't think you'd come to a bad end or anything, but... you've definitely set a new high-water mark for future Atlons."

He mulls over the revelation of Lana's mother as a free spirit. "Interesting. Don't... take this as criticism or anything, but that kind of mentality really is... very fey. Living in the moment. Just something to ponder."

"I'm sure, in a weird way, that's part of what drew her to my sire," Cor'lana says, notably not using the customary term for Glórenacil. "While I'm grateful for being alive and being descended from Grandfather, I wish she would have chosen... I don't know, someone else."

She shrugs and looks at Telamon with a smile. "Considering when Tel met me, I was calling myself 'Ravenstongue' and was this... shy, awkward girl with no family and only a few friends, I think he was just as surprised as I was to find out who I am. Maybe you would have tried even harder to charm me, Tel," she teases.

Pothy looks a little downcast. There is no escape... But then Algar mentions comforts. "Snacks," he murmurs. That's right. There's no guaranteed snacks in the woods...

And he returns to Cor'lana's shoulder. His mistress already can tell what he wants, so she pulls out a handful of dried berries from a pocket on her dress, holding it out for Pothy. Silence purchased.

Telamon smiles happily. "Well, regardless, I'm glad I went to the trouble -- and I'm glad Grandfather gave us his blessing." He chuckles at Pothy as the familiar returns to his mistress. "Trust me, Pothy, you can't get Wyvern Wrap takeout in the middle of the Mythwood. They just do not deliver."

Algar chuckles, a soft, warm sound. "Personally, Cor'lana, I have a hard time believing you were ever shy and awkward. But regardless, I think you're better off this way. Life's meant to be lived, not hoarded like coin. Take the shot, kiss the girl, leap into the river."

Tel raises an eyebrow at Algar. "That's not what you said that time when you'd narrowly avoided being dragged off by an amorous dryad--"

Algar gives Tel an irritated look in return. "I would've missed your birthday! She wanted me to spend three weeks in her tree!" He groans. "But of course, fey think time is something for other people to worry about."

"Narrowly avoided... What'd you tell my mother? Oh, falling into the rosebush," Cor'lana remarks, with a grin. "What is it with you Atlon men getting the attention of the fey, hmm?"

"That's right! Mirabilis, you have a chance! Come on and... Wait..." Lily-of-the-Valley has popped out from her hiding place in the leaves on a nearby tree to eavesdrop a little more, but now she seems to be performing the mental calculations in her head. "...Mirabilis, I don't think it's physically possible for--"

"Yes, I know, Lily, shut up!" the very embarrassed Mirabilis responds, although she's not come out of her hiding spot out of sheer embarrassment. "That's what I kept telling you when you kept gawking at all those mortal boys and you got us kicked out of the University gardens!"

Cor'lana bites her lip to keep from snickering. "Those pixies are not as stealthy nor as quiet as they think they are," she says. "Gods have mercy."

Algar gets a mischievous look -- an expression which makes him look startlingly like Telamon, the family resemblance shining through. He silently holds up a finger to forestall Tel and Lana, and says in calm, surprisingly good Sylvan, "You know I can hear and understand you, little ones of the forest."

The elf's grin is infectious, as he switches back to tradespeak. "You don't deal with fey without picking up some of the language. Which reminds me, how's your grasp of it, Tel?"

"I have an excellent teacher, warden of the woods," Telamon's reply is a bit more polished and urbane. "Cor'lana has spent a lot of time on instruction. Oddly, I didn't find it unpleasant in the slightest."

Mirabilis's scream of horror is funny purely because of the fact it sounds like a little shrill 'aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" coming from such a tiny body. "Please forget you've heard anything, warden of the woods! I do not wish to upset my Lady any further with our antics!"

Cor'lana can't help but blush a little bit. "That might have to do with the contexts I often found myself teaching you," she says, somewhat in a conspiratorial manner. "Given that I speak like a native of Quelynos myself, thanks to Grandfather's influences, I will say that you found a good teacher, even if my methods were a little... unorthodox at times."

Pothy looks at Algar with a haunted look in his little blue eyes. It's a look that says: 'Please help me. This is what I have to live with. All around me are familiar faces...'

For all his solemnity, even Algar can barely restrain a laugh at the tiny pixie's scream of horror. "They're doing a good job on the garden, though," he remarks, reaching up to wipe a tear of laughter from his eye. "I like what you've done, Tel. It's got that 'artfully disorganized' look that makes it feel less artificial."

Telamon nods with a smile. "It's definitely taken off. I... honestly didn't expect to have a green thumb, but it seems I do have some talent in that direction." He blushes, too, at Cor'lana's mention of 'unorthodox methods'.

For his part, Algar simply pretends the byplay isn't occurring, though he does shrug at Pothy. As if to say, 'What? I'm not getting into this.'.

Telamon continues, "While we'll never be growing Quelynos ingredients here... which is for the best, I think... having a nice little flower and herb garden will brighten the days considerably. Hence why I wanted to have lunch out here, rather than at one of the places in town."

"They have been lovely little garden workers," Cor'lana agrees regarding the pixies, also grinning from ear to ear. "They just also get into trouble, but that's having pixies living in your yard for you."

She sighs a little happily as she looks at Telamon and smiles. "It's never boring here, that's for certain," she says, "but honestly, I like it for that reason. And while I have been thinking about a house in the Mythwood as of late, I don't mind being here, either. Home is wherever you, I, and Pothy happen to be that's safe, cozy, and warm."

"And snacks," Pothy adds. That's probably the most important thing of all. He gets another handful of dried berries for his troubles and his input.

Telamon hugs her close again, and pets Pothy as well. "That's the most important part -- finding a place to call home." He shrugs and grins. "Maybe at some point we'll move to the Mythwood. But for now, at least, I'm happy to be anywhere you are."

Algar smiles a bit at the byplay, and glances at the sky. "And with that noted, I need to head along. Tel, I'm glad everything has worked out -- there's too many stories about things going completely sideways." Algar smiles at his cousin. "Like you said: write better ones."

The two shake hands, and Algar departs with as little fanfare as he arrived with. Tel rubs his chin as his cousin leaves. "I hope he gets along with Addy. She deserves some happiness too." He looks down at his lady love. "In the meantime, why don't we go back inside and you can show me what you picked up at the market?"

"Oh, just a few things here and there," Cor'lana replies, taking Telamon's arm as they walk back into the house. Pothy, in particular, is interested, as the market haul always promises snacks.

"I'm dead. I'm dying. I'm deeeeaaaaad," Mirabilis groans in the leafy hiding spot in the trees. "I have disgraced our Lady in front of her soon-to-be cousin. I will never recover emotionally from this!"

Lily-of-the-Valley pats her friend on the shoulder. "There there, Mirabilis," she says. "Look at it this way... There's only one way to go from here, and that's--"

She points out into distance, but the blonde pixie's dark eyes squint as she sees a blonde elf woman further down the street, speaking to a hooded figure of uncertain origin or gender. They appear to be having a rather heated discussion, and the hooded figure vanishes into thin air.

Lily-of-the-Valley makes a thoughtful noise. "Hmm. Wonder what that was about."

...

"Best not to worry about it!" the pixie exclaims, and she continues to console her friend.

And so life continues in the Lúpecyll-Atlon home... for now.