Voices from Heaven (
thespaceopera) wrote in
driftfleet2019-06-05 09:15 pm
Entry tags:
Naviadna Mingle
Who: Everyone
Broadcast: If you want!
Action: Anywhere on the fleet or in the system
When: The month of June

Welcome to Naviadna! Enjoy the beautiful sights, amazing technology, and all the other wonderful things this system has to offer! Where will you go? What sort of shenanigans will you get up to? How are you dealing with the planet's insistent singing at you?
Have fun!
(( System Info here ))
Broadcast: If you want!
Action: Anywhere on the fleet or in the system
When: The month of June

Welcome to Naviadna! Enjoy the beautiful sights, amazing technology, and all the other wonderful things this system has to offer! Where will you go? What sort of shenanigans will you get up to? How are you dealing with the planet's insistent singing at you?
Have fun!
(( System Info here ))

no subject
I... I suppose. Then let's t- talk.
[His knuckles turn white against Eithan's back. He's clinging hard. Not painfully so, but like a cat pulled away from its comfy place. There's a pause when Eithan asks that question, a hesitation, and then finally a weight slumping against him in a defeated manner.]
... Alrune. Daugion, and Galen too. They need me...
[He knows his father can handle himself should he choose to stay with Eithan when this is all over. It would be terrible to trade one family for another. But he's an adult, and... to some degree, this is expected. But with siblings, it changes. And Adra isn't the Adra who took him in, not exactly, so going back to his world isn't an option either.]
My world is in the middle of a war, and my father is a talented healer. He's needed on the front lines. With Father's absence, running the estate falls to me. Raising the children... falls to me. They're so young, all I've thought about is finding my way back to them. Every day I've spent here is a day I could have been teaching Daugion arcane spells, or showing Alrune how to bake her mother's favorite fruit tarts, or teaching Galen his letters—
[He chokes on tears because he knows this is the kind of decision he can't budge from.]
I can't leave them like Melchior left me and Caspa. I can't.