fandomtownies | Sushi Station, Saturday Evening, post-grad

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Sushi Station, Saturday Evening, post-grad

So, this evening Warren had been expecting to grab Karla away for some sort of mutual birthday quality time, especially since his days on the island were numbered, and all.

And then his father had gone and shot those plans all to hell by... being a good father and showing up to see him graduate. So far as Warren saw it, his dad's timing for finally deciding to not suck at parenting could use some work.

And now... Now Warren wasn't completely certain how he had been talked into this, but he was spending the evening of his twentieth birthday sitting in silence, watching raw fish move by on a little conveyor belt, and trying to pay more attention to the humorous attempts of the boyos to figure out the chopsticks than to the very silent old man who was the reason for all of this.

"No, Khary. You probably don't want to just put the green paste in your mouth all in one go."

Awkward birthday dinner, and go.

[For those who know who they are, but the Sushi Station is still open if other people need to get their raw fish fix for the night!]

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"Don't listen to him, Khary," Karla said encouragingly. "Yes, you do. It's delicious!"

Try to tackle her during the graduation ceremony, will you? Enjoy your wasabi, jerkface!

Khary eyed her and then the green paste suspiciously. "Gee, I wonder who I should listen to in this scenario," he said wryly, trying to scrape it all off his chopping stick thing. "Thanks, Warren."

While Khary was diligently removing all traces of wasabi, Aaron turned his grey eyes towards the male who had invited them all out tonight. Giving him a half-bow from his seat, he said politely, "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Worthington. We greatly appreciate the invitation to eat with you. Your son is a good friend to us."

If it helped Warren any, this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind for a family birthday dinner when he'd suggested it first to Karla, either. He'd expected something a lot smaller, for one thing. A dinner where he'd be able to talk to his son, and sit near him.

As opposed to now, where his son was sandwiched between Karla and the hulking winged guy, sitting as far away from his father as possible. He'd managed even to avoid sitting directly opposite his father.

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied, turning his attention to Aaron. "I hadn't realized that he'd made such good friends while he was here."

From as far as he could possibly get from his father, Warren made a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a growl.

"Really?"

Really, he hadn't realized? Or he hadn't expected him to? He'd seen the lengths that Karla had been willing to go to even while they were hitting a rough point in their relationship. How the hell was the thought that he had friends so difficult to grasp?

He made a reach for his sake. Let his dad cope with the fact that he was drinking alcohol, too.

And now Karla was in the very odd position of attempting to make peace between them, mostly because if this was as much of an utter disaster as it appeared to be, it was completely her fault. For, you know, telling Jr about commencement. And then talking to him. And the accepting of the dinner invitation, even conditionally.

Yeah. Her fault.

"I think he's still wrapping his head around the fact that you've been here long enough to make friends this close," she suggested. "We move at seven times his time, too."

"Seven times?" Aaron asked, clearly trying to carry on the conversation. "I thought us moving at double time was difficult to adjust to. How long has--"

His question was cut off by Khary's finally taking his first bite of sushi. It appeared he hadn't been as diligent about the wasabi as he'd thought. Khardeen gasped, face pale, and lunged for his water, knocking Lucivar's sake over in the process.

"Urp!"

Aaron was just going to facepalm. He wasn't even a principle player in this family drama he felt awkward.

Lucivar reached over to pound Khary on the back, not taking his eyes off Warren's sire as he did so. His glass righted itself and a napkin went to cover the spreading stain on the tablecloth.

He didn't speak, however, simply continued to watch Warren Jr with grim eyes.

Warren Jr. cleared his throat, trying not to squirm like an awkward schoolboy under the dueling glares of his son and, uhh, Prince Yaslana. Yes, he thought that was the man's title. The fact that there were now objects moving by themselves was not helping him regain his composure any.

"Uhh, yes," he said, waving over a waitress to have her refill the upright sake glass. "Quite. I'm still having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact my son has graduated and turned twenty today. It's only been a few months for me since he left at seventeen."

"Just think," Warren murmured, shaking his head as he ran his finger along the edge of his sake cup, apparently unbothered by the chaos nearby, "the next year that goes by for you, a little over twelve years more will have passed for me."

Yeah, Warren was deliberately messing with his father's head. And dropping a none-too-subtle hint about the places he was planning to head, post-Fandom. One year in Sunnydale, and from there, Kaeleer. All in the blink of an eye.

Edited 2012-04-29 15:59 (UTC)

Warren Jr was capable of following that none-too-subtle comment, yes. "Oh really?" he said, wiping his mouth on his napkin and then setting it down. For him, that was practically a declaration of war.

"Do enlighten me on your plans."

"More school," Warren said simply, though there was a look in his eye that could burn through steel. "I've been accepted to take courses in business administration at UC Sunnydale for a year. And then to Glacia, with Karla. There's a lot of important work to be done there, and I intend to be there with her to do it."

And would Jr. like to protest?

Less a protest and more of a sputter, really.

A protest suggests something far more coherent that what Warren's father was currently capable of making. "What? Who? You are--? Huh?"

Lucivar growled a bit at that. "Is there a problem with the Lady?" he asked pointedly. "Please, let us know your objection to the Queen."

Aaron and Khary (who was still choking) paused and looked challengingly at Jr, chopsticks held in such a way that they could easily become weapons at need.

Karla winced and slouched down to kick Lucivar under the table. The last thing this dinner needed was someone adding MORE fuel to the fire, thanks.

"Pass the California rolls, please?" she asked weakly. As a diversion attempt, it needed work.

Warren reached for the sushi in question, calmly passing it to Karla without so much as taking his eyes off of his father.

"Would you rather I go back to New York? Continue preparing myself to be the high-profile mutant owner of Worthington Labs?"

There might as well have been venom dripping from his tongue as he spoke that.

"Kaeleer is more my home than that room in the condo ever was, Dad. With Karla."

Warren, Jr. knew better than to comment to either statement directly. Instead he turned to Lucivar and asked, "What's your take on this?"

Bad strategy, Jr. Bad strategy.

Lucivar stopped eating. He put down his chopsticks and then slowly, deliberately looked at Warren, Jr. Just looked, eyes a sleepy, glazed yellow. He held Warren's gaze for several heartbeats, then turned back to his plate.

"Warren is a fine male. I'm proud of everything he's accomplished," he told his plate. "He would make any Queen proud to call him Consort."

"Queen?" It was Warren Jr's day for sputtering, apparently. "What do you mean, queen? I don't--"

He glanced from Warren to Karla to Lucivar and back.

Queen.

Karla was just going to hide behind her sushi. She hadn't been quite so acutely aware of her caste since...ever, actually.

"Me being a Queen has nothing to do with this," she mumbled. "Warren's coming with me because he loves me. Not because of what I am."

"She's a Queen, I'm the heir to a multi-million dollar corporation. And she loves me for me, and I love her for her, and that's why I'm making this choice."

A beat.

"Queen has... a slightly different meaning in Kaeleer than it does here. But that doesn't mean that there's any less responsibility involved. I'll be stepping from business straight into politics. That doesn't change my decision, either."

"To run off to some fantasy world with people with wings and magic tricks?" Warren burst out, throwing his napkin down. "Just so you can be a boyfriend to some teenaged girl who's playing at politics!"

Aaron flung himself to his feet, the chair falling over behind him. "You have no right--"

Khary's chair also fell over as he flung himself at Aaron. "Brother, leash it!"

"I have wings," Warren spat out, pulling himself to his feet and spreading them as far as the interior of the restaurant would allow. "And do we really want to talk about worlds with powers? After Magneto? After the Phoenix?"

That was a growl, then. Something low and menacing and nearly animal, a feral remnant of the only ailment he'd suffered that had ever left him with scars.

"I'm going to Glacia to be a consort to my Queen. And you will not talk about her as though she's anything less. And not just because it's appalling form to invite a lady to dinner only to insult her."

That setdown from Warren was enough to get Aaron to sit, a bit of Craft from Khary bringing his chair up beneath on him. He flashed Warren, Jr a 'You're on notice' glare.

Khary had always been the more talkative one of the two anyway. "What Lord Worthington is too polite to mention is that the laws in Kaeleer are very different," he said with conversational politeness. And if I brought your tongue back home and recited what you just said to Karla, I'd be lauded as having done my duty and upholding Protocol."

He cracked a wry smile. "And that's still kinder than what Prince Aaron and Prince Yaslana would do with just the slightest nod of permission from either Warren or Karla."

"Is that a threat?!" Warren snapped. "Is that the kind of culture you come from? Where casual threats are acceptable?"

He shot Warren a sardonic glance. This was the place he was running away to? This?!

Edited 2012-05-03 02:43 (UTC)

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