It’s been a long, long ass day and between making trips to the mind healer’s to make plans for Kanriel and attending her lessons, Edlsesa is absolutely exhausted. But, she has one more task yet tonight and it’s a hefty one, requiring help. She’s got to get Kanriel out of their quarters and to the mind healer so that she can clean out their father’s studio and their parent’s bedroom. Mama won’t ever come home if Kanriel insists on keeping Papa’s things there.
It’s been a turn. Sesa has had enough.
And so…. She finds herself outside her other brother’s yurt on the caravan grounds. “Daen! Daenerys! Are you in?”

Kanriel is completely unawares of his foster sister’s activities. He’s currently ensconced in his father’s studio, wrapped in one of Erikkhan’s smocks as he sifts through a hide wrap full of his father’s precious paper sketches. He’s thin and haggard, the beginnings of facial stubble cropping up on his jaw, hollows under his eyes and a haunted look about him. Currently, he half focuses on a family sketch made when he was around four turns old. Lina and Erikk sit in their chairs, Lina with sheets of music and Erikk with his sketchbook, and Kanriel himself on the floor playing with a baby Edlsesa.

Dad…..

The silence is broken, not for the first time, by the sobs that follow from Kanriel’s throat as his nimble fingers slide over the sketch, smudging one of the corners.

Daenerys is, of course, in. After a day working with his shiny new mare Luna, he's hot and tired, smelling of runner and all over dust and sand. He stands before his brazier, running a brush through his hair to get as much sand out of it as he can before he bathes — no sense in getting it into his precious heated bathwater if it can be avoided. He’s already managed to wipe the worst off his finely toned body, naked and caring not one bit: who's going to see him? He leans briefly to his bit of mirror, eyeing the bruising along his cheek and jaw with a grimace; well worth it, though. Xanthee will not likely be troubled by F’kan-damn-him again, knowing that there are at least two men who will come after him, should he try something… cute again. He frowns, then with a long sigh, lets go the aggressive anger he’d felt over seeing the girl get hit because some fool couldn’t grow up and accept he’d been an idiot. But then, there is a young, feminine voice at his door, one he recognizes. Quick as a thought, he wraps himself in a loose robe and goes to open the flap — Edlsesa sounds urgent. “Yeah I'm here. What's up?”
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Sesa would be glad for the robe if she knew why Daen was in it, after all, seeing brother bits? Gross. However, she doesn't know he was mid-bath and looks confused as to why he’s dressed as he is so early in the evening. It makes her flinch a little to see the bruising on Daen’s face, and here she is to ask him to potentially get into another scrap. It makes her feel a bit guilty. She breezes past these thoughts however and heaves a big sigh and the biggest set of puppy dog eyes ever at Daen, twisting one of her thick ringlets in her fingers. “I have it all set up for Kan to go to the mind healer’s but it basically has to be done tonight… like, now.” She looks a bit stressed at this but keeps going. “There's only one slot left here or I'll have to send him to Keroon and I don't think leaving is best for him now… just getting him out of that damn studio so that I can clean and Mama can come home…”

Oh, man would that be awkward! It’s fortunate, however, that his sister is quite distracted — and unfortunate that she comes armed with puppy eyes. Daenerys is never proof against puppy eyes, even when all he wants is a nice long soak in his bath and the slow seeping away of the stresses of the day. As Edlsesa spills forth her plight, he heaves a sigh, looking longing to his tub — oh, he’s gonna have to say bye-bye to that, as he did promise her he’d help. “And so it begins, does it?” He asks with gentle sympathy, taking a closer look at her. Poor girl, she’s had a very long Turn of it, that much is obvious, and he’s never been one to allow another to simmer in misery if he can do anything about it. “Well, kid, if you’ll give me a minute to put some clothes on… I’m none too keen on confronting Kanriel wearing nothing but a robe.” His grin turns impish. “While I’m sure half the Lower Caverns would thank you, I’m not sure you would thank me.”

Sesa is truly sorry to disturb Daen’s evening, and she'll make it up to him later with lunch or something. But for now, she throws an eternally grateful look his way. Still twisting away at that ringlet curl, she smiles at her brother. “Thanks Daen, I really do appreciate it.” She chuckles at his robe comment, a blush spreading across her cheeks as a result of both it and Daen's last. “I'll just wait out here then.” Sesa grins before turning and walking over to wait to the side of the yurt entrance. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she paces back and forth, mind a flurry of uncontrollable activity, eyes darting about for her mother. She won't be able to do this if she sees Lina, her mother will want to, well, mother Kanriel, and he needs something sterner now. And then part of her is riddled with anxiety over confronting the task of cleaning out their living quarters. It's a monumental task of epic proportions considering the fact that nothing has changed in there since Erikkhan’s death.

Daenerys gets himself quickly dressed in something that will withstand a wrestling match, should it come to it — leather pants and a linen shirt, swiping his jacket from its peg on the way out. “Well, let's go get your brother.” He offers Sesa a wry smile as he heads back toward the Weyr. “You do know you're doing right by him, don't you?”

“I do. It doesn’t make this any easier.” With a heavy sigh, Edlsesa heads for the crafter’s quarters and the home that has been a broken mess for the last turn. “I just….I just need it all done, or it’s never going to get done. With lessons and having to deal with Mama and Kanriel, and now the influx of duties because of all this blue glow nonsense, I’m about to lose my own damn mind.” This last is said with emphatic heat and Sesa blushes, rarely does she use such crass language, it was frowned upon before, when papa was alive, both her parents, and the harper hall too, expecting their children to have an air of decorum about them. Her steps quicken a bit, which is probably a good thing for long legged Daen. She is a wee thing in stature, that’s for sure.

The right things in life are never easy; it makes life interesting. Whether Edlsesa can appreciate such a thing right now is debatable, and Daenerys is wise enough to keep that little sentiment quite to himself. Instead, he’ll give her a sidelong look, noting for the first time that she’s a blend of his father and her mother: smaller than both, but the sense of them is there, in the curly hair and the general air of warmth and caring. His lips quirk as she curses, then blushes. “I hear you.” He commiserates gently. “You’re carrying so much on your small shoulders, and you’ve been bearing up well under it all, I believe.” Ah, the memories of the Crafter Complex: the crush of bodies, the fraternity-party-like behavior… he’s quite glad he’s nothing to do with it anymore. “So how likely is he to throw things? I’d rather not break your father’s things if I can avoid it.”

“If you say so…” Sesa says of bearing her burdens well. “I just do what I have to.” And it’s so tiring for Sesa, but she does it anyway. Lucky for Edlsesa, she’d been allowed to remain in her parent’s quarters during her apprenticeship thus far, though she’s been sleeping in the apprentice dorms for awhile now, needing some place to breathe and be away from it all. At Daen’s question, Sesa tucks her hair behind her ears before crossing her arms under her breasts. “More likely than I would like to admit.” She stops outside the entryway for the crafter’s quarters and shoves her hands in her back pockets, as if she can’t decide where she wants her arms to be. She chews the inside of her cheek a bit more and looks into the gaping maw of the CQ. “Let’s hope this goes well…”

Oh, boy: this should be fun. Daenerys sighs, brushing a hand over his shirt. Poor girl; now he feels even guiltier about not keeping better tabs on the girl, or making himself known to her sooner. She likely could have used him a Turn ago. “Well — I’ll do what I can.” With this situation. With everything. He stares at the door for a long moment, then back to Edlsesa — the girl looks like she could use a hug. Awkwardly, he pats her shoulder in a wordless attempt to encourage her. “Well, then — shall we?” He begins to make his way into the jungle and the task at hand.

Daenerys’ pat on the shoulder gets a meek smile back from Edlsesa as she begins to gear herself up for the confrontation at hand. She nods when he asks her if they should head in and leads the way, digging the key to their quarters from her pocket along the way. She sticks the key in the appropriate door and knocks before giving it a turn. “Coming in Kan!” She warns and begins pushing the door open.

From within the darkened studio, a scuffling can be heard, and then a muffled voice. “Go AWAY Cissy!” More scuffling. “I’m not coming out today!!!” More scuffling, this time more frantic. What is Kanriel doing in there?

The answer comes soon enough. “Tough Kan, I’m coming in whether you like it or not!” Sesa sounds stronger than she feels right now, but nearly loses all resolve at the next. She gets the door about a quarter of the way open before a clay pot shatters into a million pieces on the wall inside next to the door. She pulls the door shut quickly again and a near growl emits from her chest. “DAMMIT KAN!”

Erikkhan's Studio

This part of the domain serves as a personal art studio and office for Journeyman Harper Erikkhan. To the left is a wall with deep shelves carves into it, and where these shelves were once left open, all now have hinged, locked cabinet doors on them to keep little fingers from roaming where they shouldn't be. The shelves are stocked tightly, but neatly with various types of art supplies, from small jars of pigment to large canvases. Several bare wooden frames meant for stretching canvas lean against the only blank part of the wall. The right wall is lined with a few easels, two of which have covered canvases on them, and Erikkhan's desk which is orderly and currently covered in paperwork from The Harper. The back wall has two doors and what empty space there is left is occupied by samples of Erikk's work.
Obvious exits:
Realilina's Workroom Living Quarters Outer Hall

There’s astonishment as Kanriel turns a pot into so much shrapnel; astonishment and irritation that the boy would throw things at his sister. Daenerys is certain the boy’s been taught better manners than that! Well that will simply never do. Daenerys puts on his best annoyed Journeyman’s act, and opens the door, roaring, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, apprentice!” He may have given up his knot, but he still carries the attitude when he wants to. “Is this how you honor your father, by breaking his stuff?” He begins to set a foot into the room — now very determined that Kanriel will not be allowed to continue like this; A’lory’d told him enough stories about Erikkhan that he’s deeply, deeply appalled at this.

Oh yes, Kanriel has been taught much better manners than what is currently on display. But what Daenerys will find as he barges into the studio, is not the well mannered son of Erikkhan and Realilina, no…what is there is a shallow husk of that man-boy, cheeks dark with the patchy shadow of his prickly, incoming beard. He is gaunt and lean, as if starved half to death, and he is, having not kept a regular eating schedule the last turn. He has hollows under eyes that bore angrily into Daen’s form, despite the man’s apparent rage. Kanriel stands in the corner of his father’s studio, where everything is covered in white sheets and a thick layer of dust. Everything except Kanriel’s corner, which is a nest of blankets and sheets surrounded by Erikkhan’s sketch books and the detritus of Kanriel’s inhabitation there. Where the pot came from is blatantly obvious, as Kanriel has a hole cubby of Erikk’s half finished clay works behind him. Ammunition that can be broken because it was never finished.

“Who the hell are you??” Kanriel asks, confusion leaking through some of his hollow expression. He stands half cocked to throw another pot, but seems maybe to be rethinking this. “And who the hell are you to tell me how to or not to honor my father? What the hell do you know?”

Sesa is quite surprised when Daen goes in the way he does, and it shocks her into stillness for a moment, though part of this could be because she is also tempering her rage at her brother…the one throwing things, that is. When she hears Kanriel begin to speak she enters the quarters, nose wrinkling at the musty smell that now lingers here, and her eyes widening at the state of heer brother, whom she’s sure she cleaned up just a few days ago. He looks more and more haggard every time she sees him, more and more like he has one foot in the grave and one with the living. “Dammit Kanriel, that’s enough of this!!!! This isn’t just your home y’know, Mama and I would like to come home at some point.”

Looking around Daenerys at his sister, Kanriel nearly growls. “Not if you’re gonna wipe everything out, throw it all away like Dad was never here!!! I won’t let you!!!”

There's some rough sympathy for the younger man; losing a father is never easy, especially one you've been close to for your entire life. But still, there's something to be said for sternness when it's needed. “I am someone who gives a shit about you, and your sister, and your mother. You kidding me, here?” He sweeps a hand over the place, and Kanriel’s condition. It’s difficult to see how deeply depressed the young man’s become, how attached he’s become to keeping time still. “Kanriel, listen to me.” His voice gentles, now he’s gotten the young harper’s attention — he reaches back to try and still Edlsesa, for just a moment. He’s listening; it’s good, very good for now. “You’ve lost someone very important to you, I understand that. I’ve lost my father too, you know. My father — who knew yours. More closely in this time than in the old. And it feels like… like half your heart’s got ripped out, yes?”

He moves closer still, keeping one eye on that half-finished crockery, just waiting for it to be launched. “Nobody wants to erase him, least of all your sister and your mother. Nobody wants to erase Harper Erikkhan — he’s too valuable a man, and his work? I think it deserves to be seen and admired, don’t you? We can’t do that if you won’t let them see to it properly, now can we?” Hopefully, this is getting through to Kanriel. “And that includes you, Kanriel. I know I want to make sure you’re alright, that you’re healthy. Come on, man, do you really think I’d let you kill yourself in here, when your father helped mine when he couldn’t do right by his daughter because he loved her mother too much?”

Sesa isn't sure she's too happy about being held back, but she's talked and talked and talked to Kanriel, to the point of practically being blue in the face. Perhaps Daen’s words, or maybe even his size, will get through to the harper boy. And so, crossing her arms under her breasts, Sesa keeps back and quiet, hoping this doesn't come to actually physically dragging her brother out.

Kanriel looks back and forth between Daenerys and his sister, clay pot still held at the ready as frantic emotions slide back and forth through his blue eyes. He understands…but not what Daen is speaking about, no, he understands who Daen is now. He can see the family resemblance between Daen and Sesa, even if it is minute. And now he understands why Daen is here talking at him instead of just Sesa. “More than half….” He chokes out in response. He'd idolized his father, immortalised him in his mind to the point that when Erikkhan passed, it had been so shocking that Kanriel near refused to believe it. He's not so naive now… he knows his father is dead, but this is the last standing piece of Erikkhan and he can't stand to see it disturbed.

Kanriel’s arm raises when Daen starts to get closer, something wild and feral creeping into his eyes. “Don't you dare fucking touch me!” His voice is strained and right, manic nearly. “They don't want to display any of it… I heard Sesa talking with Mama the day after Dad died…Mama wanted everything out, stuffed into some dark storage cellar out of sight and out of mind…like she was the only one who lost him and she didn't care what we ….no, what I thought about her erasing dad from the quarters! Can't you see??? If it's all gone, he's gone. At least this way he's close…”

“Kan…that's not fair! Mama was only trying to grieve. She wasn't trying to take Dad from you—”

“Shut up Cissy. I've heard it all already. You're not touching Dad's studio so GET OUT!” And then that second pot is launched and Kanriels falls into the mania he's been lost to for the last turn. “G-E-T O-U-T!” Another pot goes flying to crash against the wall into a million shards.

“Well, maybe we can convince her otherwise — but not like this. And stop throwing shit!” Daenerys roars the last as he starts toward Kanriel, having lost all patience with the poor lad. Sympathy only goes so far. “You want a better damn deal? Stop acting like you're the only one on Pern that's ever lost a father! It's time you got your ass straightened out. You think our sister isn't grieving? Well she is! And your mother! Have you even bothered to check on her, you rude little boy?” He’s within grabbing distance now, and reaches out to make the first attempt at it. “You haven't — too damn selfish to see they need to grieve with you, not take care of you like you're a damn stupid infant…. You're leaving here, now. And if you behave your damn self, I’ll see about helping you get his things displayed — but only if you fucking act like you have some sense! Stop abusing my sister, damn you!”

Daenerys’ outburst stalls Kanriel’s hand and the fourth pot he's about to throw stills in the air. He hasn't really had anyone blow up at him…like, ever and it stalls him to stillness, eyes wide with shock and amazement. He shakes his head silently when Daenerys asks if he's been to see his mother, and the man is right, he hasn't. The only times he's seen Realilina is the few times his mother has come to collect things, and he either made himself scarce or pretended to be asleep. His mother's grief only seemed to amplify his own, and so he'd figured they were both better off. Daenerys reaching for him sees Kanriel move back into action, ducking that first grab and skittering for the door to his mother's work room. Better catch him fast Daen, there's a lock on that door and it's thick to muffle the sounds of instruments playing within. “Sesa call of this mad man damn you!!! Brother or not he has no right to be here!” Kan stumbles about half way there and looks back to Daen, eyes scathing now that he has some distance. “Fuck you! You haven't been around Sesa’s whole life! What makes you think you can claim blood now??? She's my sister and I'll speak to her however I damn well please!!!” He's still inching for that door and getting closer. “And I’m not going anywhere!!” Though, the idea of getting to lovingly display Erikkhan’s works does seem to slow the man-boy a bit.

“Kanriel!!!!” Sesa chides. This is basically where she saw this going, but to have one brother defend her so gallantly while the other is out of his mind with grief and crazy, is hard to watch. She is purple with embarrassment, mostly because this angry, logicless half-man is not the Kanriel she grew up with, is not the kind boy who thought the world of his parents and sister. “Daen please don’t hurt him….if you can help it.” Sesa knows the words coming out of Kanriel’s mouth aren’t true, or even what he really thinks, but they are still hurtful to hear.

It’s a good point, really: one he’s regretted most of his young life. And the fact that Kanriel’s pointed it out only makes him more irritated at the young Harper. “Oh, now you care.” Daenerys nixes the move toward that too-thick door with a flying attempt at a tackle. “For your information, child, I watched over her. I saw she was in good hands. And I am here, fool, because she asked it of me.” Should he lay hands on Kanriel, he’ll wrestle the boy away from the door, away from that lovely little bolthole the harper so craves. “She’s still my sister, boy, and you will keep a respectful tongue in your head, or I’ll yank it out.” Oh, he’s not going to hurt Kanriel on purpose; he knows all too well that grief can make people do crazy things.

Does he manage to pull Kanriel back from that door? One hopes so! Meanwhile, he’ll continue talking, trying to make Kanriel think. “Ever occur to you I didn’t want to upset her entire fucking life? I was a stupid kid, just like you. I was jealous and it was stupid. But I’m — not — leaving — you understand?” He keeps trying to haul on the boy, using both his strength and some care. Poor Sesa: this has to be the worst thing ever, to see her brothers, fighting like this. “I won’t hurt him, Sesa. I am not interested in doing that, even if he’s being a young idiot.” Boy does Daenerys know about being a young idiot — he’s been one for many, many Turns, off and on.

Kanriel is definitely tackled, and he's not really got the strength to keep Daen from hauling him anywhere, and so, he's drug along. At first he seems to have some fight in him, trying to argue with Daen about what familial rights he does and doesn't have, struggling against the grip Daen has on him, but even the crazy know when to give up, most of the time. Kanriel isn't getting anywhere by raging, so he goes limp, withdrawing into himself and blocking everything else out, including his sister and Daen. It's almost as if he becomes an empty shell, staring and distant. He's done it to Sesa before and it kept the healers from dragging him off because he was just too much dead weight. Not even done growing and the boy tops six foot, just like his father, that's a lot of mass to drag.

Sesa is quite afraid Kanriel is going to fly into a true rage, but he does the exact opposite and even though it scares the shit out of her when he does it, it's better than him raging. She just has to hope now that the mind healers can draw him out of his stupors, because it gets harder and harder for Sesa to bring him around every time. Perhaps she should not have kept her brother's condition from her mother…maybe this wouldn't have gone on so long, but Lina had been such a wreck herself…

“You'll have no problems with him now…it takes days to pull him out of these stupors.” Sesa's voice is strained and full of stress, and she looks tired and on the verge of tears. “He's not going to hear a thing we say now… or if he does, he's not going to respond to it. I told you it was bad…” There's a definite change to her voice now. “Can you carry him?”

Daenerys is as inexorable as the desert — Kanriel no longer gets a vote on anything, for clearly the kid is mad. They’re halfway to the outer door when Kanriel goes limp, and Daen is nearly caught off guard, but manages to keep his grip on the lad.

Daenerys can indeed carry the now-limp Kanriel — deadweight or nah, after Turns of dealing with animal carcasses, what’s one half-starved young man? With a grunt, he manages to get the harper settled in his arms like some kind of oversized toddler, somewhat amuses that the kid is almost as tall as he himself is.

“The Healers’ll manage, love.” He assures Sesa quietly, wishing there was something he could do about her strained emotions. “Maybe it's time you let your mother in on this?” He asks, hesitantly. They're at the door, now. Hopefully nobody closed that sucker.

No one has shut the door, and Sesa will be surprised if her family isn’t the subject of crafter gossip tomorrow, after all the yelling and smashing of pottery. She nods at Daen’s comment on letting Realilina in as she tries to swallow the redfruit sized lump that's risen in her throat. She looks around the studio that she will return to clean later and hr vision blurs with a small line of moisture. She heaves a hitched sigh, and clears her throat. “Let’s go, no use standing when he’s malleable enough now.” She follows Daen out and closes the door, locking it before turning and leading the way.
She’s not certain if she’s made the right choice in going about things as she has, andit gnaws on her. But what’s done is done, and either way, her brother needs help neither she or their mother can provide. Dropping Kanriel off isn’t easy, and Sesa promises him she come see him soon, and she’ll bring Mama too.

Kanriel just stares into the distance and doesn’t say a word. Not one.

And Sesa leaves wondering if the feeling of her heart shattering will ever stop. Who knew that one death could cause such a damaging ripple effect.