How High You'll Fly

Description: Tag: Nessa Raske

Cathal Lowry

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How High You'll Fly
« on: November 21, 2017, 06:16:24 AM »
It had been some kind of a week. A week in which the strongest coffee was barely enough to keep Cathal powering through the copious amounts of work that had seemed to continually be heaped upon him. Not that he minded. He enjoyed the challenge of the chore. If he wasn't working, then what was the purpose of him being...anywhere? He was not a man to sit on his thumbs when there was work to do.

He tried to remember what day it was, but came up short. The only indication of elapsed time was the sun setting outside him, and the moon starting to peek into the world. The day had passed with surprising quickness, and that he did not like much. It felt like he had not done enough. There were still dates to plan, functions to oversee, numbers to review, and so on and so on. He sighed and wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose,pushing his reading glasses up as he did. Night fall meant nothing to him anymore, it was just another time of day.

"Alright old boy," he muttered to himself. "Go time starts now. Get through this pile--mountain of paperwork and you can take a nap riiiight in this comfy old chair of yours. Doesn't that sound lovely?" He sighed again, resigned to his fate, and pulled the next slip from the heap. He had meant to talk to Nessa about something today, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. Cathal didn’t think it was anything of life threatening import or he would have remembered...possibly, remembered. But still it nagged at him like a sliver under the skin.

Nessa Raske

  • Inactive Character
  • hearth witch
  • Little Kaeleer Terreille
    3 Posts    111 marks
Re: How High You'll Fly
« Reply #1 on: November 21, 2017, 06:31:42 AM »
Nessa stared at the large oak door with intense focus. It was sundown, which meant that at any moment her father ought to be opening that very door, leaving his office for the day in order to eat, relax and sleep. Of course, he had scarcely emerged the last three days, so she didn’t expect that to be the case today either. Nonetheless, it was what should be happening. She understood that he took his role as Steward very seriously. She was immensely proud of him for the work that he did after all. But she did not improve of his tendency to neglect himself in the process of his accomplishments.

Which is why it was her job to see to it that he did no such thing.

She had gone easy on him the last few days. Everyone pulled the occasional all-nighter when they felt inspired or had a deadline to meet. But he had long passed the limit of reasonableness. Nessa had been prepared for this - she had only been dealing with it her whole life after all. He meant well, but he never could tear himself away from his work. Since coming to be the Steward of the district court there certainly was no such thing as a shortage of work to be done either. It only enabled his bad habits.

So it was that she stepped forward at last, confident he was still seated behind his desk, knowing full well the day had ended.

Opening the door with a touch of Craft, she entered, not even bothering to ask permission or announce herself. That was something for colleagues, acquaintances and friends. Such formalities had no place in family, and most definitely not between father and daughter.

In her hands she held a covered tray and fresh brewed pot of tea. It would be a fight to tear him away from his office. The first battle though was to see to his nourishment. That battle at least, she could always win.

“Papa, it’s time for you to eat,” she said, her voice soft, yet firm. It was not a question of if, and was hardly a suggestion. She vanished the lid as she set the tray beside him on an empty corner of the desk. “I brought you tea as well.” That she knew he would find less than pleasing. He’d ask for coffee, but she intended full well for him to sleep restfully rather than merely managing a measly nap in his chair. “It’s better for you,” she continued forcefully, cutting off the anticipated argument.

“You’ve been locked away in here for days. Surely you can take a break long enough to share a meal with me?”

Cathal Lowry

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Re: How High You'll Fly
« Reply #2 on: November 28, 2017, 12:53:57 AM »
Cathal had a quip ready the moment he heard the door latch click, a noticeable crack of noise in the near silence of the scritching of pen on paper. But when he saw it was his daughter, Nessa, that popped in his grumpiness was replaced with a pang of guilt. He had meant to be home earlier this week so that he might spend time with her, catch up on the things that he had missed since he had buried himself. That, however, had not been the case.

“Oh, hey sweetheart,” he said, his eyes darting from a sea of papers to meet hers. “Mother Night,” he muttered, “ looks like I lost track of the time again. I’m sorry, Nessa. I mean to be off but..” he trailed off, motioning to the paper mountains on his desk. “ Got swamped, buried, and mummified,” he offered a half-smile, that turned into a full blown grin when he saw that she had brought food. His stomach grumbled in agreement. His smile dropped for a moment when he saw that she had brought him tea instead of his preferred coffee. Kids.

“Come on now, Nessa, what is this healthy stuff? Tea? You trying to get me to sleep tonight?”  he teased good naturedly before getting out of his chair and motioning for Nessa to sit down. He shuffled paperwork around for a moment and took up perch on the corner of his desk.

“I had hoped to have time for more than dinner with you, but, yeah...I can at least give you that. Sorry it’s not more kiddo. I know things have been crazy lately, and I know I haven’t been around much...at all,” he amended. “I promise next week I’ll do better. Just gotta make it through this one and then next week I’ll try and be done at a reasonable hour. Promise,” he said, sticking his pinky finger out. He felt guilty about the lack of attention he had been able to give his daugher. They had always been close, they were all the other had. And now he was barely able to give her that. Was he a terrible father for not being able to do more? Some days he felt like it. She deserved so much better than him.

Nessa Raske

  • Inactive Character
  • hearth witch
  • Little Kaeleer Terreille
    3 Posts    111 marks
Re: How High You'll Fly
« Reply #3 on: December 01, 2017, 04:27:08 AM »
Worried as she was, she couldn’t help but laugh at his joke about being mummified. It seemed fairly close to accurate. The sight of him overwhelmed with books and paperwork was one of the first she could remember, and that had only grown more and more true over the years.

Her father’s guilt was far from unfamiliar to the young hearth witch. He was far too hard on himself and always had been. She knew why. They both did, so they did the same dance over and over again, knowing it would probably never change. Still, she couldn’t help but hope, one day he just might believe her.

“It’s fine, Papa. You’re responsible for far more than just me now. Besides, I’m old enough to take care of myself. So it’s okay, really.” Her voice was soft and sweet. He would still blame himself for some imaginary fault, but she had to at least try. She didn’t blame him and that was what truly mattered anyway.

Her tone shifted to something more stern and teasing though as she continued. “The only thing you should feel sorry for is for neglecting yourself in the process. You have too many people depending on you to not take care of yourself.” It wasn’t just the two of them anymore after all. The whole court was depending on him now.

She just rolled her eyes as he complained incredibly predictably about the tea. “Well, it would be a start,” she agreed. “It’s not really a good idea for someone to go the better part of a week on, what, 4 hours maybe?” Nessa sighed. “You know you’ll be more productive once you get some rest anyway.”

She slid into his offered seat. Another day she might have resisted, but today it didn’t seem worth the effort. That he was eating was enough right now. She wouldn’t press too hard for more.

Nessa smiled warmly as he offered her a promise and his pinky. It was a small silly thing. He wouldn’t be able to go a whole week without staying late in his office, but it was the gesture that mattered. She hooked her pinky with his.

Her whole life he had always been there for her. They were close, of course, but it was more than that. It had been just the two of them forever practically. She couldn’t remember her mother. All she had ever known of the woman was the pain she had left her father with. That was all she needed to know about her. That woman may have given her life, but she had nothing to do with who Nessa was today. That was all her father.

Which was why she would always look out for him just as he always had for her. Nothing else mattered more than that.

“I do understand though. You’re doing important work. I don’t care where you eat dinner, just that you do. And that it’s real food and not just a snack. That’s the important part.” Nessa watched her father carefully, wondering if he really heard her reassurances or if they simply fell on deaf ears. “I promise, you don’t have to worry about me so much. You need to worry about yourself a little more instead.”

Cathal Lowry

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Re: How High You'll Fly
« Reply #4 on: December 11, 2017, 11:14:29 PM »
“Bah,” Cathal grumbled as Nessa made her always-valid points. He had raised her to be smart, but sometimes it came back to bite him a tender area. “You’re too smart for your own good,” he teased before popping a mouthful of food in. It was delicious, as always. It was one of the few blessings he saw in his ex-wife’s leaving--he no longer had to deal with her terrible cooking. A Healer she may have been but the number of stomach aches he had endured from her food often made him wonder otherwise. Luckily there were a handful of simple things he could prepare himself that kept him sane.

“You know I’m always gonna worry about you, kid,” he said taking a sip of the tea Nessa had brought with her. “You, this Court, everyone I’m responsible for...always gonna worry. That’s just what dad’s do, we’re worry monsters of a sort. We worry and take care of things so that others don’t have to. If it sounds like I’m bragging, I’m not. It’s an exhausting job, but someday maybe you’ll see what I mean. Hell, you probably already do, miss assistant housekeeper,” he intoned with a respective flourish of his hand. “Sometimes I wonder who the real parent is around here. Some days I’m not sure it’s me,” Cathal teased, eating more of his dinner.

“But that’s enough about this old dog, what’s going on in Nessa’s realm of the world, hm? Meet any nice boys, girls, dogs, cats? You’re young, your life has got to be more entertaining than signatures and hand cramps. Because let me tell you, those,” he wagged a finger, “are not entertaining things.” He had missed this, he realized in that moment. He and Nessa had always been close, but work kept them apart more often than not, and he worried secretly that history might one day repeat itself once more. That was when he reminded himself that Nessa was not her mother, and that when she did leave it would be to start a life of her own, on her terms, and the nest would be empty save for the sheaves of papers still waiting to engulf him.

Nessa Raske

  • Inactive Character
  • hearth witch
  • Little Kaeleer Terreille
    3 Posts    111 marks
Re: How High You'll Fly
« Reply #5 on: January 05, 2018, 05:41:12 AM »
“I’m just like my father that way,” she said sweetly, biting back a laugh. In so many ways, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree when it came to the two of them. She could hardly complain. As far as she was concerned, there was no better person to take after than her father.

Nessa gave a small resigned sigh as he spoke again. She knew he’d always worry. He worried about everything - and he always had. Still, he would give anything to be able to give him a little peace of mind. At least he was eating and drinking the tea though, for all his protest. He needed to take better care of himself, and she was determined to see him do just that.

“I know, I know,” she conceded. “But you have so much on your plate already with the whole Court. You have to take better care of yourself. Too many people count on you for you to be running on fumes and half-starved.” It was good to see him in his element for all he grumbled about the endless paperwork, she knew this was what he loved and excelled that. But it made her worry about him all the more. He had spent so many years putting off his own purpose to take care of her. She wanted him to have all that he deserved now.

“Well, you don’t have a monopoly on worrying,” she reminded him gently, even as his teasing made her chuckle. For her, she never doubted just who was the parent. But it had been just the two of them for so long. She had always felt the need to take care of him. It seemed like that was hardly enough to repay all he had done for her.

“Hey! I actually like hearing about your work, thank you very much!” She always had. It was what she had grown up with after all.

As he asked about her own life she only shrugged. “Oh you know, just the usual. Helping keep things tidy around here. Experimenting with a new recipe or two. The usual shenanigans.” It wasn’t necessarily the excitement of youth, but she was content, happy even with her life as it was. She didn’t need some grand adventure. She was happy with what she had.

Cathal Lowry

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Re: How High You'll Fly
« Reply #6 on: January 15, 2018, 08:50:30 PM »
“And you’re happy with that? You’re a young woman, from what I hear those are supposed to be a constant headache for their fathers,” he joked, setting his tea down and stifling a yawn. “I mean, not that I’m going to complain, mind you, but I do wonder sometimes if maybe you wouldn’t be happier somewhere else. I mean, you’re only here because of my job, but if you did want something else, something more, you know I’d do anything to get that for you. But, if you’re happy,” he held his hands up, “ then that’s all a father can ask for. I’m not going to push you into anything one way or another. You’ve always been good about telling me what you want and what you need, Darkness bless you for that, so if you’re really happy here...then I guess we can stay a little longer.” He grinned wryly, picked up his tea, and took another sip.

Cathal had always been thankful for Nessa, and the enrichment she brought to his life. He was almost more thankful, some days, that she did not take her mother’s temperament, elsewise she might have been one of those headaches he had mentioned. Still, he couldn’t not help but wonder what he did to deserve such a blessing.

“You know, your birthday is coming up soon, Winsol too for that matter. Got anything on that wishlist I should know about? Otherwise it’s down to fatherly intuition and guesswork, and I can’t be held responsible for anything at that point..”
 

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