RP Log: Meet the Parents
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Stardate:
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| 2025-05-30 19:44 | |
- The shuttle ride from the spaceport to the capital city of Rixx is not a long one. The main city is a tight congestion of spires rising over the natural greenery, but several large estates trickle the surrounding countryside, offering an even more serene environment for the familes that occupy them.
- The entrance to the Telula Estate is a grand, sweeping archway of smooth white stone veined with soft lavender. Lush, meticulously maintained gardens frame either side of the drive, blooming with iridescent blossoms that shimmer in the light breeze. A private lake lies just beyond the main house, its still, glassy surface reflecting the spired silhouette of the estate and the pastel skies above. Nearby, gentle hills are lined with neat rows of uttaberry vines, the vineyard one of the Telula family's follies and a source of their own boutique vintage, bottled only for private gatherings. Vines of flowering claria twist elegantly up the archway columns, and a subtle hum of ambient music plays from unseen sources, wrapping visitors in an atmosphere of refinement and quiet, practiced superiority before they even reach the front door.
Miriella Telula walks along the stone pathway that leads to the main house like she's being led to her execution.
Cristobal looks around the place with the eyes of a man cataloguing great wealth. Mostly, because he is. Vineyards. Spires. Private Lakes. The glance he gives to Miri isn't accusatory. No, it is, instead, supportive. The smile, though small and wan, is sincere enough.
"Oh, yeah. Your mother is going to /hate/ me." There is a grim humor in the statement. He reaches out, taking her hand, and squeezes it lightly, then lets it go. "We get through it. We go back to our lives. And then, Miri? This is done."
"Well, we're just here to tell her about that guy from the spaceport," Miri reminds Cris miserably, returning the squeeze of her hand by letting go. Miri sighs and approaches the large, double doors at the end of the path. She reaches out for the heavy handle that would open the door, second guesses herself, and then reaches for the brass bell hanging to its side. "I don't know if I still live here or not," she mutters, laughing a little at the absurdity of the thought.
She opens the door and walks in. The late afternoon sun filters through translucent silk panels, casting rainbow hues across the marble floor of the atrium. Ornate Betazoid sculptures line the walls, their expressions serene -- a sharp contrast to the emotional undercurrent in the room.
At the far end, Elva Telula stands poised beside a table of floating blossom arrangements, dressed immaculately in a flowing black-and-silver robe. Her expression is tight and her smile does not reach her eyes. She's beautiful, but she's a middle-aged Betazoid woman, so that's not exactly unusual or noteworthy.
Rin Telula rises from a curved bench near one of the massive windows. He's a soft-featured man wearing a green tunic with gold accents, clearly old enough to be Miri's father but blessed with youthful features thanks to a life spent in comfort. He nearly runs over, arms open, delight pouring from his features.
"My little wildflower returns!" he cries out. "Oh, look at you, more radiant than any sunrise in the Atylan Valley!"
"Hi, daddy," Miri says, laughing softly as she disappears into his arms. "I missed you."
Cristobal follows at Miri's side. His gait speaks to physical confidence, of course, because his physicality is measured well beyond the vast majority of humanity. That vague swagger, though, is tempered by a sense of humility; he is humbled by his surroundings, and whatever he was expecting, this surpasses those expectations, and not by a little.
His thoughts aren't loud, exactly -- not like they can sometimes be. Nor does he try to conceal them. His mind is...passive? She can feel him categorizing Rin Telula: doting father. loving man. Loves his daughter. When his eyes turn to Elva, the same sense of him classifying her can be tasted, if you look for it: Careful with impressions. Perfect sense of decorum. Excellent sense of presentation. Formidable. Watch this one respectfully.
His face is a neutral smile; pleasant, genial, meaningless. At least, until Miri is embraced. That causes his head to tilt, and the warm sense of happiness at how Miri greets him bleeds onto his face.
"Clearly not enough. This is her first visit in, oh, seven years, is it?" Elva says dryly. She eyes Ramirez with measured disdain, making some immediate assumptions about this man. "And who might this be? The human ensign you've chosen to shame us with?"
Miri takes a breath as soon as she hears her mother's voice. "Mother, daddy, this is Cristobal Miguel Moreno Ramirez," Miri says, extending her hand in his direction. She doesn't nail the pronunciation but it's clear, at least, that she's been practicing. "The /Lieutenant/ I've chosen to shame you with." She looks straight at Elva.
"So this is the young man!" Rin announces, striding forward and reaching out to take Cris' hands in both of his. His fingers are faintly stained green from pruning a delicate xenoflora near the couch. "Welcome to our home! Have you ever seen a bioluminescent lake in bloom? We've got one just down the path. Extraordinary this time of year!" He gives Miri a fond wink, clearly more interested in sharing botanical wonders than involving himself in Elva's thinly veiled hostilities.
Elva's gaze tightens. "Yes, well, perhaps we'll save the sightseeing for after we've discussed more... substantial matters. Shall we?" She turns on her heel without waiting for a reply, expecting them all to follow.
Cristobal gives Elva Telula the politest of nods -- there is a stiff-necked formality to it. It seems...proper, the way he does it. He motions with a hand to Miri, offering to her mother. "Your daughter is correct, ma'am. Though, it is an extremely recent change in my status; your intelligence-gathering is, I assure you, quite up to snuff."
His tone isn't...jovial? Not exactly? But he seems unperturbed. Likely because this is the exact thing he was expecting. He doesn't try to engage her further, instead looking over to Rin, and offering the same formal bow of his head. "Obviously not in this ecosystem, sir -- this is my first visit to your lovely planet." He motions, expansively. "I'm certain it's lovely. I /did/ have the fortune of seeing a bioluminescent plankton swarm on the Maldives on Earth, sir. I do wonder how it compares."
He begins walking calmly as the party moves, glancing sidelong to Miri. He seems to be making sure his mind clearly synchs and matches his thoughts. So far, at least.
Elva Telula steps into the next room, another sitting room with small couches and chairs that overlook ornate sculptures and tapestries. Her expression is cool and expectant, posture rigid with the restrained elegance of someone who considers judgment a civic duty. Coming to one of the chairs, Elva lowers herself in a single, graceful motion that causes her robes to drape perfectly across her lap. Her posture is eerily perfect.
Miri, meanwhile, follows after, grinning as she watches her father take so fondly to Cristobal. She gives one of the marble statues she passes a quick bump with her hip, because, why not?
"Since I'm sure she'd prefer we not exist, I won't wait for her to remember her manners and introduce us," Elva says, giving Miri a cutting look. Miri begins to silently mouth the words that she's heard Elva say so many times before.
"I am Elva Telula, Sixth Daughter of Selene, Voice of the Triumvirate Council on Interstellar Affairs, Honored Delegate to the 93rd Session of the Betazed Diplomatic Confluence, Guardian of the Vines of Tel'Rayan and Keeper of the Ancestral Fire of House Telula."
"And this is my husband, Rin."
Rin is unconcerned. "Did you hear that, Elva? Bioluminescent plakton!" he repeats with astonishment, taking a reluctant seat next to his wife. "You know, I'm something of a xenobotanist, myself..." He looks over at Miri and gives her a mischievous smile.
Cristobal inclines his head to Miri, offering the young woman a winning smile as he does it. There is a moment of eye contact, his bright blue eyes on hers for an instant. Then he looks back to Rin. "Your daughter mentioned that to me, sir. Mostly, I think, because we share something in common."
He motions with a hand, absently. "My mother was a botanist. Though she specialized on Earth ecosystems, I think you and her would have had some spirited discussions, indeed, sir." That winning smile is offered to Rin. "Some of it rubbed off on me. I suspect, sir, we could have some interesting discussions, and if we've the time during our visit, I'd love to hear anything you'd care to share on the topic."
And, then, the main event. He smoothly turns to Elva, places his fingers on his chest, and answers, "Though I only have an off-worlder's knowledge of the importance of your titles, I am at least dimly aware of them, ma'am. I am honored to meet you." And...despite all of this? He actually seems like he is. There isn't even any dim irritation. Yet, probably.
"Alas, I am the son of a Starfleet officer and a botanist, as I explained to your husband. Just Cris is fine. Succinct, and to the point, no?"
"Hm. 'Cris,'" Elva says, pronouncing the word with some venom. "How quaint. Hard sounds for a hard life, I'm sure." She turns to face Miri. "Darling," she begins, dragging the word out to its maximum length and giving it a vaguely hostile sound. "Have you had a chance to introduce your little friend to Rivven Janar. You remember him, don't you? You remember your ... obligations."
"Obviously not," Miri answers, glaring at her mother.
Rin, meanwhile, is in his own little world of delight upon hearing that Cris' life is steeped in botany. "You must let me show you the propagation terrace! I'm in the middle of an experimental hybridization of Denevian lillies and Betazoid flame orchids. Fascinating stuff! You know, most people underestimate the emotional resonance plants can have, especially in telepathically rich environments..." He's already halfway across the room, gesturing for the young man to follow, utterly oblivious to Elva's disapproving stare.
"No, no, Daddy..." Miri gently protests. "Maybe another time. That's not why we're here..."
"Tell us, then, Miriella," Elva insists, staring daggers at Cristobal. "Why ARE you here?"
Cristobal turns to Rin, and real delight blooms. "My mother, when I was young, was involved in several large hybridization projects, sir. Though I was too young to understand the purpose, she was crossing soy beans with some spliced in genetic material that was introduced through a modified gamete. The resultant hybrid was pretty. Actually, sir, that was one of the things that drew me in. The ability to create entirely new species."
Again with the winning smile to Rin, and he shrugs. For the moment, it's like he didn't even hear Elva's acid words. "Your daughter's right, though. She came for a purpose." His face turns back to Elva, and he doesn't let the little roiling bubble of frustration that forms rise up.
Instead, he tamps it down, laughing pleasantly. "And, I assure you, ma'am. I've had an easy life, compared to some. I've no complaints. And, really. Who'd listen to them if I voiced them, no?" He simply acts like he doesn't even see the look he's getting, and looks to Miri. "This /is/ your story to tell...."
Miri looks over at Cris with an apprehensive stare. Oh, gee, thanks, it seems to say.
"Oh?" Elva responds with a smirk. "Is it story time? Perhaps we'll finally have a chance to understand your decisions. You've made such unusual ones."
"We came here to warn you about something," Miri explains with a sigh. "About someone you knew. Someone named Araabrel."
Elva raises her eyebrows, smiles, and then shakes her head. "I haven't the faintest clue who that is," she answers. "Now, let me just invite the Janar family over..." It sounds like an offer but it's really more of a threat.
And, at that moment, he seems to come to a decision. He glances to Miri, then back to Elva, his brows lifting. "That's interesting, Elva. May I call you Elva?" His smile is wide. He seems instantly comfortable with that. "Ellllvvaa. A soft name. Interesting."
There's nothing acid in his tone, unlike Miri's mom. Under it, though? He's enjoying this moment. "What's interesting is that /he/ definitely knew you." He shrugs. "Which...may or may not be good news. Seeing as how he is involved with kidnapping Betazoid citizens and helping channel them to a secret medical testing facility, though, I'm not precisely sure this is something you'd want to Janar family to hear about?"
"No," is Elva Telula's response to that question. Simple. Direct. No. He can't call her Elva. If any part of her is annoyed by Cris' sudden display of extreme comfort around her, it's not clear at all. Elva just continues to sit with dignified, mildly hostile poise. She smiles, of course, but not with her eyes.
"You can call me Rin, son," Rin is quick to say, big smile on his face, happy, cheerful. "What a wonderful day this is. Meeting new friends!"
Elva clears her throat, which causes Rin to slink back a little, smile fading a touch.
"Young man," Elva says, turning her gaze back to Cris. "I assure you. I've never heard that name before in my entire life. And, obviously, I do not associate with the type of scoundrels who would engage in the activities you describe."
Miri just sits there, shoulders tensed. If there was ever a person who took the wind out of her sails, it would be her mom. "Mother," Miri protests. "He did know you. He described you perfectly." She doesn't elaborate, but the words 'snobbish' and 'arrogant' were used. Elva can certainly sense the memory coming to the surface in Miri's mind. The entire ordeal in the spaceport plays out in horrifying detail as she continues. "He says everyone looks down on him because he's not a telepath... Said he tried to get a job with you..."
Elva stares forward. A mild expression of recollection appears on her face as she examines Miri's memory of the hurried, out-of-place man from the spaceport.
Cristobal watches, now, with silent interest. Whatever Elva's comfort level with the current situation, Cris seems to be almost enjoying himself. Well. Sort of. Some of it seems pretty forced and frayed, at this point.
"He also knew your daughter. And knew her well enough to make the connection between her..." He nods to Miri. "....and you." He nods to Elva. "Which is interesting to me. He was no telepath. Miri's been gone for, as you pointed out, seven years. She's changed a lot, physically, in that time, given her age."
He rubs at his chin, lips pressing together. "And when we caught up to him? He was trying to engage in some sort of shady dealing with a disreputable-looking Son'A. That was before he try to commit suicide, right there on the spaceport tarmac."
He tsks. "It was all very gauche and distasteful, really."
Elva is unimpressed at the revelation. "Young man, if you're here to warn me that someone knows of me, you're wasting your time," she says. "And it's hardly a stretch that someone might know my daughter. She's engaged to the scion of the Ninth House of Betazed, a wedding that will unite our families and have a lasting impact on the Betazed government." This is a detail that's only vaguely relevant to this topic. Elva just wants to make sure Cris never has a chance to forget it.
"And, really?" Elva continues. "'Gauche and distasteful' ... Young man, you and I both know those aren't your words. If you're going to try to manipulate someone, next time, choose someone who can't read your mind."
"That's enough!" Miri shouts, standing up, unable to resist.
In the background, Rin smiles, only for a moment, as he hears Miri shout at his wife.
"Miriella, please," Elva is quick to say, shaking her head at her daughter's outburst. "So, that man you're thinking of, yes, now I remember him. Awful man. Vile. What a chip on his shoulder! In no way did he have the graces necessary for a career in diplomacy. Why, I wouldn't have even trusted him as a courier! He would have blundered it completely and utterly, and I told him so, of course. And, his disability! Imagine not being a telepath. What way is that to live?"
Her gaze fixes on Cris. "No offense, dear," she adds, smirking.
Cristobal smiles to Elva. "I assure you, Elva, your power to offend me is incomprehensibly small." The smile is winning. The ugly dislike under the surface is not. He makes no effort to hide it. He does shrug, though, and then he looks back to Miri.
Then he looks over to Miri, shaking his head. "You know, Miri? I have even /more/ respect for you, now. In the very back of my mind, I thought you must have been at least exaggerating. " He sighs, "It would appear that I owe you an apology. I'll make it up to you."
His head turns back to Elva. "Whether you like it or not, whatever you think of the man, he knew you. He was involved with some very dangerous people. People who, for all anyone knows, will now be interested in /you./ So, Elva? I suggest you take this seriously. Do you even /care/ that the guy was helping kidnap people for God knows what purpose?"
"Was I trying to offend you? I hadn't noticed," Elva mutters to herself, glancing at her nails. She doesn't even give Cris the pleasure of a response to his suggestion that she doesn't care. Elva knows she doesn't have to, because...
"Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Cris," Rin is quick to say, glancing hesitantly at Elva for the briefest of moments before looking back at Cristobal and Miri. "Can I convince you to stay for dinner? Or stay the night?"
Miri glances at Cris for a moment, considers the hell that would be on top of the hell already endured, and looks back at her father. "No, daddy, I don't think so," she answers gently. "We have to get back."
"Right, right, you have to go back to wanderinng around giving therapy to enlisted riff-raff," Elva quips, laughing silently.
He looks to Elva, and an odd thing happens, then. Everyone in the room can sense the insight as it comes to him. Telepathy or no, he says, "Do you really think so small, Elva?" His voice is small. Surprised. Even a touch sad. When he speaks again, though, it begins with a sigh. "Your daughter rose to become part of the senior staff of a vessel of over 2,500 people in less than a year. Her insight into people of all different species and origin is second to none."
He looks over to Miri, and doesn't even try to hide the pride and respect swelling in him. "Your daughter, Elva? She was one of a couple of people who helped decipher a medical mystery and helped give an entire species a chance for survival. She did something so difficult that maybe a few dozen people in the entire Federation could have done it."
His head turns to Elva, and his disgust flares. "She saved an entire /species./ And it wasn't even her /job,/ Elva. And all you can do is sit here and engage in petty insults? What have /YOU/ done over the last year?"
He shakes his head, shrugs, and then looks to Rin. "I'm sorry, sir. I would very much like an opportunity to to speak at length with you. Both about botany, and how you managed to raise what I consider to be one of the finest people I've ever met in the entire quadrant."
Miri closes her eyes so the insides of her eyelids absorb the moisture that forms. She takes a breath and opens her eyes. "Let's just go, Cris," she mutters mournfully. She reaches out and tugs at his arm, trying to gently guide him back out the way they came. "Please, stop." She tugs at him again, trying to put a stop to this exchange. It's all so embarrassing for so many reasons.
"I will not be spoken to like that in my own house," Elva inists, barely raising her voice, totally in command of her emotions. "Especially by an off-worlder who disgraces my daughter's bed each night."
Miri takes a breath. Comments like that come part and parcel with telepathic parents. Rin, meanwhile, is trying his best to smile the exact right amount. "That's my wildflower, alright," Rin enthuses, tuning out his wife as best he can. "I hope to see you again soon, Cris. Under different circumstances. Maybe I can show you the uttaberry vineyard!"
Miri begins dragging Cris towards the exit, eyes glistening with moisture. "Come on," she insists.
Your telepathic ability allows you to hear Ramirez's thoughts, "Oh, I assure you. There's nothing disgraceful going on in her bed."
He thinks it, but he doesn't say it. And she can feel his temper fray, and start to break. The tell-tales are all there. But...? Growth seems to have come. Well. A little. He doesn't take that last step over the line, where he just unloads.
Instead, he sighs, stands stiffly, and follows Miri's lead, out of the house. Over his shoulder, he smiles back at Rin. "I would like that, sir. Very much." He moves with Miri, head shaking as a dark little series of thoughts threatens to overcome him.
But, he goes.
Outside, door closed, Miri leans back against it and takes a deep, shuddery breath.
"Well, that sucked," she announces, managing a faint smile. "But, we warned her. And we know he wasn't lying, at least..."
He looks over, shaking his head. "I meant what I said. I'm sorry. I really thought maybe you were exaggerating. Not on purpose, or anything." He turns, touches her arms, and kisses the top of her head. "If anything, you understated things."
He purses his lips, then huhs. "What I don't understand is why. She has to know she won't get what she wants. Is this all just so she can act out?"
Miri laughs a little. "This is after she's had time to process it," she explains. The question forces Miri to shake her head and shrug. "I don't know... I think she thinks she can change my mind. But, maybe she's acting out, too, I don't know. She thought Starfleet would be a phase and ..." Miri shakes her head and sighs.
"C'mon, let's get back and tell Madhadaa and Luz that he wasn't lying," she mutters and then begins walking to the gate of the Telula estate.