SIM:Feraoun, Zayar/The Former Mrs. Feraoun

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(( Zayar's Quarters, Deck 15, USS Constitution-B )) Feraoun: :: Zayar held his smile as he looked over the figure in his doorway.:: Mother...

Jherain Nevarin, by the way Zayar spoke of her, (well if he actually did speak of her) one would think they hadn't spoken in years and they didn't get along. The impression would be true, but the tension was entirely one-sided.::

Nevarin: :: All smiles, her accent giving her voice a jubilant but haughty quality.:: Zayar, my son.

As his mother embraced him, Zayar let his smile slip since she could no longer see it. Zayar didn't hate his mother, he loved her, she wasn't the worst mother but it was painfully obvious she wasn't the best either. Thankfully, others filled in the gaps. As the hug broke and she kept her hands firmly on Zayar's arms, Jherain looked her son over for what was surely the first time in years, at least in person. As he moved one of her hands to his face, Zayar shied away with a slight smile. That reaction, at least, was genuine.::

Nevarin: I swear you've grown.

There was a 3 inch height difference between Zayar and his mother, not much, but enough for her to fuel a line of typical motherly quips about how tall he was. For a while it was that he had grown more handsome, apparently that time had passed.::

Feraoun: Lot of different gravitational environments mother, sometimes they play will your spine.

Nevarin: :: Brushing his shoulders off with her gloved hands.:: Well at least you don't slouch like a teenager anymore.

Jherain looked over Zayar's shoulder and pushed past him to get a better look at his quarters. There she was in the middle of his quarters, in a fashionable white suit with a matching sun hat that moved in waves over her head.There was of course, no sun, but Zayar's mother was a creature of habit, and a creature of habitual fashion at that. His mother in a suit and a hat was an image characteristic of Zayar's childhood and represented many things.::
She made a few faces, not characteristic of any one emotion, at least to those who didn't know how to read them.::

Nevarin: Well it's not how I would decorate my living space, but its well done Zayar, well done.

Like so many things his mother said, a compliment was never just a compliment. Jherain no doubt disapproved of the various North African accents and items around Zayar's room. They were artful, tasteful and placed in just the right way, but to Jherain they were not part of a good décor, rather, they were symbols of where Zayar's loyalties lay in the imaginary tug of war between Jherain and her former husband. Though it wasn't as if Jherain ever explained El-Aurian culture, heritage or identity, she even left before his abilities fully manifested. Perhaps she regretted that now, but the effects of arguments long ago still echoed, as Zayar's quarters showed.::

Feraoun: :: Zayar spoke softly, but he did have an obvious intent.:: So why are you here mother? I thought you were wintering on Risa.

Nevarin: :: Her tone and posture moved to one of slightly melodramatic dread, avoiding the intent of the question.:: Oh Risa! Oh, Zayar the entire planet is a tourist trap now, it's so dreadfully tacky and well...

Feraoun: :: Zayar artfully finished his mother's sentence.:: Common?

Nevarin: Well those are you words dear, but I won't disagree.

His mother was also something of an elitist, but not an unfair one, she never said anything no one else of reasonable standing wouldn't agree with.::

Nevarin: :: Jherain sighed as she walked over to the couch and sat down.:: I just thought I would come and see you darling, we haven't seen each other in person in over a year and Richard said your ship was returning for shoreleave and I just couldn't pass down the opportunity.

Richard was Jherain's latest... well lover would be the correct word but Zayar wasn't going to be so 'vulgar'. Zayar didn't know the full story, or rather, didn't care to remember it, but Captain Richard Michaelsen did something for Starfleet Operations. Until now, Zayar wasn't aware that Jherain kept tabs on him through her latest liaison. There was apparently more to the story as to why Jherain had come here but Zayar wasn't going to pry, at least not yet.::

Nevarin: And your dear Aunt Sareia was already coming to see you, oh dear that was supposed to be a surprise, do act surprised, you mustn't let her know I told you. :: Regaining her composure.:: Well I just thought the family could get together, that's all.

His Aunt Sareia was not someone Zayar would mind seeing, she was an intrepid and cultured woman who lacked her sister's dramatics or grandstanding. She was fun to be around, and her visits, while infrequent thanks to his father and his dislike of her on principle, were highlights of his childhood. Sareia was also the only other maternal relative he had ever met, and the only window into his mother's life.::

Feraoun: :: His tone a bit brighter.:: So where is she then?

Nevarin: Oh whatever crudely named, trash of a space Starfleet has decided to deem a 'bar' on this ship. :: Under her breath.:: Jerry Thomas roles in his grave...

Feraoun: The Black Hole?

Nevarin: :: Dismissively.:: Oh something like that.

Feraoun: oO I like it...Oo

Nevarin: :: Sighing as she stood up, Jherain promptly went over to the mirror to straighten her look out, spoiled by all of 30 seconds on the couch.:: Well we'd best be off. :: Shooting a look over to her son.:: Unless you want to change Zayar.

Zayar was still in his pajamas, hardly the attire to go out in public, for some people anyway. He quietly shuffled over to his bedroom, while his mother remained.::

Nevarin: :: Serious, direct.:: I'll wait.

Jherain returned to fixing her hat, while Zayar tried to muffle the slightly frantic motion of his hands as he rummaged through is closet.::


Ensign Zayar Feraoun

Mission Specialist

USS Constitution-B