Dire straits
Scene: Sinopa pays a visit and ends up Aivey's hostage.
Players: Sinopa, Roa, D'ven, E'sere, Aivey and multiple guards
Place: Aivey's Cell
Old Empty Storeroom
Small and rather dusty, this room is just what the name implies. It used to be another storage space for the various odds and ends used by folk regularly enough to warrant its own room. Only problem was it was too far away from most of the residential areas, so it was cleaned out and had a few modifications made to it. For instance, there are no shelves, the rugs and any tapestries have all been removed, and the door locks from the outside. A thick metal ring has been embedded in the wall off in one corner so only half of it juts out, a perfect loop for sturdy rope or a chain. There's one glowbasket up on a wall, but it's empty.
Aivey hasn't done a whole lot as of late. Between walking the rounds of her cozy home away from home, playing her messed up version of cards and pebble juggling, she's done little else. Such is the case now; her entertainment the juggling of a small pebble. She's on her feet and walking at the same time, either a testament to the never ending creativity of the 'Reaches resident murderess or indication that the scattered cards in one corner no longer amuse her. Outside her cell are her ever present guards; surly and bored. They've given up on conversation with one another. Surly is seated on a stool, bored is standing directly in front of the closed door.
The silence is broken as surly's stool is pushed back towards the wall, scraping the floor as he moves. The foot shuffles of bored indicate that he has moved a few feet away from the door. Following these sounds of life, however muted they may be, is the sound of low conversation between the guards and someone in possession of a higher, lighter feminine voice. Abruptly the voices cut off as footsteps approach the door, finally opening it to allow Aivey another visitor. With a neutral glance at the guards behind her, the current acting senior weyrwoman enters the cell slowly, pausing to glance around. As usual the woman is well dressed and her hair is well-styled in an updo held in place with a single polished stick with a bright dangly bead. After glancing about the converted storage room her dark eyes fall on Aivey and she lifts her head slightly, as though in the beginnings of a greeting. "So..." she begins, "you're the one that's caused so much trouble."
Aivey's pebble juggling abruptly stops with the pebble being tucked into her palm as she studies this new surprise. Beyond Sinopa's shoulders, the guards too are studied, but it's Sinopa who Aivey puts the full of her attention upon. "Most people just call me Aivey," she says by way of greeting, "You must be the Weyrwoman." A tilt of her head to the side isn't done in respect, but assessment of the goldrider. "Tell me, what can I do for you today?"
At first it appears that all the acting weyrwoman wants from Aivey is a simple gawk at the captive, though soon enough her critical gaze softens. "Aivey," she repeats softly, taking a step further into the cell before remaining in place once more. "They say that you and E'sere are ... partners... of a sort." There Sinopa lets the sentence rest a beat or two before she picks up, "Though I find it rather difficult to believe. They say you are spouting nothing but truth these days."
"Tell them to leave," Aivey says by way of the guards, "And I'll gladly tell you the whole truth of every last thing I've done. I don't like to brag and if they're in the room, well, it just feels like I'm bragging." Aivey folds her hands behind her back, allowing the pebble in her palm to fall to the ground, "Really though, it's your call. I don't want to rush a visitor off, especially when they're so few and far between."
It dawns on Sinopa then that she failed to hear a door shut or even click into place behind her as she entered. At the prisoner's request, Sinopa turns her head to look at the door and sure enough surly and bored stare back at her with their usual facial expressions. "You mind?" the acting senior queries, "A minute or two, please." Having surely heard the same thing from the perhaps dozen visitors that Aivey's had previously, the two guards shuffle back and let the door shut, leaving the acting senior with the crazy prisoner. Perhaps the boredom and monotony have rotted out their collective braincells. Turning back to Aivey the goldrider waits for some sort of answer.
"It started with Jensen and ended too abruptly for my tastes." Aivey starts with a small smile, "I killed the guard and the Lady, went after a few other people and poisoned the man you've come to ask me about." She pauses, a delicate pursing of her lips offered as she turns and begins walking around the far side of the room. To the practiced eye it looks like nothing more then wandering, for Aivey's words seem erratic thereafter. "E'sere, right? You've come to see if all those nasty little rumors about him are true? A shame since I think he'd make a fine Weyrleader - any man who survives what I did to him rightly would, but that's besides the point. What is it you want to know about him, specifically, my dear Weyrwoman?" There is no mockery in the title, only a dry blandness.
Sinopa quirks a brow at the mention of the former guard captain stationed at High Reaches, though she listens. Patiently and attentively, her dark eyes following the prisoner's movements as the criminal begins her string of confessions. "I heard about the poisoning," the goldrider replies, "We were quite worried about him." And then the woman's brow furrows, "If you thought he'd be a good Weyrleader, why did you poison him? But... yes. I was wondering how exactly you know him. I'm interested in hearing how these rumors started."
"Not worried enough to stay his arrest?" Aivey questions lightly, turning to face the Weyrwoman. She stops, perhaps closer then before, but at an angle that makes it impossible to judge. She motions her hands, yet more erratic movement that serves to strengthen the equally erratic flow of logic, "I poisoned him because he was a target - Nabol, at first. The fellis didn't work the first time and so I took a more drastic measure. I admit... he surprised me. I suppose though, when you all find him guilty, I'll have time to tell him that myself." Aivey's hands fall to her side as she turns and takes a half step to her left, her gaze down and considering, "I suppose they started by the /real/ people you have to worry about. I couldn't finish them off, though I did try-" She stops mid word, her gaze lifted over Sinopa's shoulder as an irritated look surfaces, "I thought she said to leave us alone?" Those damn guards, yes.
"Unfortunately there were... procedures that had to be followed," Sinopa replies, leaving her inability (or unwillingness) to prevent the arrest of the bronzerider ill-defined and unanswered for. Her brow quirks at the mention of fellis prior to the actual poisoning event, though before she asks the prisoner for further elaboration on the matter she turns her head about to glance at the door. "I did say..." she begins, but then stops and blinks as there's nothing but the closed door. Buh?
Four quick steps is all it takes to close the distance, and for one arm to wrap around the underside of Sinopa's jaw and her other free hand to pluck the decorative hair piece from it's resting point. Though it's a bit of a reach for the shorter Aivey, the pull of her weight against the other woman's neck and the tightness of the arm pinned against that vulnerable point help her compensate. Aivey wedges the tip of the hair pin above her arm and tight against the side of Sinopa's neck. Her voice is low and controlled, contrasting the earlier erratic behavior, "Before you tell anyone about this, I want you to know it's not personal. If you do what I say I won't kill you. If you don't do what I say then you won't need to worry about the hole I'll put in your neck. Nod your head if you understand me."
The removal of the hair piece releases Sinopa's curly hair, which bobs down about her shoulders. The sudden physical contact and immediate threat to her life cause Sinopa to tense up and freeze as she's dragged slightly backwards by Aivey, her eyes wide as saucers with startlement. Something that could be "what?" is stammered around before the goldrider shakes a moment. And then, after a moment or two -- for some thoughts take a few moments to process and be registered -- there's a very shaky and slight nodding of her head, done carefully so as not to push that sharp pointy thing at any part of her neck that would result in a big mess. "What... do you want?" she finally manages to squeak out. Now where are the guards when you need them?
"What I don't want is to be staked out for Thread, for other people to get the credit for everything I did... everything I bled for. It's only right, don't you think?" Aivey asks, her voice a quiet whisper close to Sinopa's ear, "Move toward the door.." A slight nudge from Aivey attempts to coerce the goldrider in that direction, though she sets the pace and keeps her grip tight and far too controlled, "I want you to order them to open the door, and I want you to order them to stay back. Then you'll take me to your dragon and we'll take a little trip. Somewhere nice where you can leave me - I don't want to stay here - do you understand?" She pauses quickly, "If anyone tries to stop us, I'll kill you. Don't think I'll think twice about it."
If there was ever any doubt that Aivey was anything less than completely insane, that tiny bit has been violently squished all over the floor. The shaky goldrider moves as ordered - stiffly and hesitantly as any scared person in her situation would. No reply or confirmation that she's accepted Aivey's orders, though she does call out to the guards, "I'd like to... like to leave now." Her voice out to be a dead give away that something is wrong. Immediately following this statement she swallows - loudly - and then adds, "And... please, please don't... get too close..." she fumbles for words, there, "Stay b-back."
There's a dry laugh, a puff of hot air against Sinopa's neck as Aivey tightens her grip on Sinopa, "You should try to be convincing, Sinopa. I mean, I know you're scared but honestly-" She really doesn't have the opportunity to say a whole lot else, for that door is bound to open soon and she'll have more then enough to deal with then. "Remember what I said." About the killage and stabbity-stabbage.
The door does open soon enough - no matter how panicked and suspicious that order sounded, the acting senior can't very well just be left in there with the crazy. Surly and bored no longer look quite so bored, though surly is still an apt description of how both are looking when the door is cracked open. Sinopa merely swallows loudly again and stares back at the guards with a 'do /something/' expression. Aivey clearly has charge of this whole situation.
(Pro'd) (Dragonriders) Thick and heavy smoke, reminiscent of a large smoky fire, accompanies Citalth's alarm. << She's being harmed!! >> Accompanying the alarm and plea for help are a series of images -- guards, a storeroom being used to hold a prisoner, and Aivey. Sinopa
(Pro'd) Citalth> Morelenth's mental touch is desperate, angry, and anxious as he reaches out. << Citalth! Citalth, mine--he is-->> He struggles for words, and finally offers a picture from his viewpoint: the interior of E'sere's weyr, his rider facing off the two guards with him, all of them furious-looking.
"You'll let us pass or I will kill her." Aivey declares, and for effect, presses the pointed tip of the hair pin against Sinopa's neck. The desired effect is for Sinopa's discomfort and fear to convince them. "Stand aside - all the way aside and let us pass."
The desired effect is achieved - Sinopa half-cringes and then squeaks at the guards, "Do it!" Surly and bored glower back at the girl, though the pair take a half-step back, widening the entry a bit. And then another little bit, shuffling all the while. Stalling, perhaps, or just extremely reluctant to be giving into the prisoner's demands.
Thwip-thwap, thwip-thwap...this is the sound of bare feet pounding down the hallway. Roa must have been just woken up, because she's in half pants, a tank top, and a long, white sweater thrown over the top of it. Her hair is in a long braid spilling down her back, and her eyes are huge as she rounds on the guards. "She's in danger." And then, a bit louder, "Aivey! Stop!" Roa cannot see what is actually happening. She can only assume. So she does.
D'ven is following Roa. He looks like he was already awake and active, and one hand is inside his jacket. "I'd do as weyrwoman Roa says if I were you, Aivey." He remarks conversationally, coming to stand a little bit forward of the tiny goldrider. Just in case.
With two guards looking furious as they scramble in his wake, E'sere barges through the halls of the Weyr unerringly toward that storeroom in question. People get out of his way quickly as he passes, staring at the procession. E'sere doesn't stop until he arrives, coming from the opposite direction as Roa and D'ven. "Sinopa," is his first concern, eyes settling on her and then her prisoner as he takes another step forward.
Aivey does not make the same mistake twice. She is not cocky or bold as she begins moving forward, only to abruptly stop as Roa's voice is heard. An angry glare falls to the back of Sinopa's head and a hidden grin curls upward in private delight. "I'm leaving, Roa, and you won't stop me." Shouted out to the goldrider with yet another push against Sinopa, "Your end of the deal, Weyrwoman, or I will kill you where you stand." Aloud and to those who've arrived, D'ven and E'sere among them, Aivey offers a very tight, "I think you misunderstand... I am the one with the neck of a goldrider at my disposal. Now get out of my way. All of you."
"Just... just do it!" Sinopa says, the same panic in her wide eyes, which fall on E'sere when he comes into her line of sight, quite easy to hear in her shaky voice. "Get... back, please. All of you." Nevermind that help was called for, the poor woman would like to keep her neck hole free, thank you very much. The guards in charge of Aivey back off fully, stepping ot the side to allow the pisoner and her hostage unhindered passage through the door.
The little weyrwoman moves as if she'll step forward and into the room, but one of the guards grabs her and yanks her back. They got enough on their hands without adding one more potential hostage to the mix. Still, Roa calls, shoulder twitching angrily as she's held, "This won't work. You won't make it down the corridor. Where will you go? Who will take you? There's two guards and three dragonriders out here. You lose, Aivey. Step down."
D'ven stays where he is for now, since he's not currently in the way. At least, not of Aivey coming out the doorway. "She has a point, Aivey." He remarks, his tone conversational. "I think this may have been somewhat ill-concieved. It was a good try though, and an unexpected move."
E'sere doesn't move back as Aivey orders, feet firmly planted as he stares at her flatly. "You picked the wrong goldrider to bargain with, Aivey," he tells her evenly, calm, expressionless. "Do you think they care if Sinopa dies?" A gesture to Roa, D'ven. "It'd be a tragic accident, but also a convenient one for them: they'll get to take out the competition and you both. They aren't going to let you go, even if it means she dies."
There's a particular quality to Aivey's eyes, one D'ven likely won't be much of a stranger to. The fact that she is good and well trapped. Sinopa's neck is looking better and better. Her attention switches from one face to the next, moving too rapidly to take in much of anything. More to D'ven then Roa, Aivey says, "I swear I will kill her if its the last thing I do. Let me go." She doesn't move - won't move past those who are now filling the corridor. E'sere's words have her shifting, leveling harder on Sinopa's neck. "Order them to stand down, Sinopa. This is the last chance you'll get."
Oh, whoa there escapee number two... saying such things does not comfort the poor hostage! Poor Sinopa, new to this hostage thing and never had anyone take a shining to her neck quite like Aivey has. Oh dear. This can't end well. The acting senior is practically trembling at this point. "Just listen to her," she manages to get out shakily, her voice practically a squeak. "Back off... go away... just let us out of here."
The guard holding onto Roa flashes a glance towards his companion and a single small nod is exchanged. They're flattening up against the wall, the one who holds the little weyrwoman pulling her along with him. The other one is looking intently at E'sere. Or, rather, the back of E'sere's head. "Better do as the Weyrwoman orders, Sir. Don't want things to get outta hand." The way that last is said, so terse and clipped, might imply that there's a second reason, beyond those actual words, that the guards would like the doorway cleared. Roa is watching, but for now, she is, usually enough, compliant.
D'ven does indeed back off, though he doesn't go away since he has Aivey talking to him. "Oh, I know you will Aivey. But, if you do that, the game ends." It's pointed out thoughtfully. "What we need, is a way to change the game." He muses, half to himself and half to her. "To be honest, Aivey, Sinopa isn't a very good piece to have right now. I mean, sure, you could get her out into the bowl with you. But then where? To get away successfully, you'd need a dragon. Sure, you have Sinopa. But panicking dragonriders...well, you don't want to never come out of between, do you?" His tone is calm and conversational. "So, Aivey, what do you suggest?"
"If you kill Sinopa," E'sere continues in that same calm, even, talking-to-the-crazies voice, "you're out a hostage and they'll recapture you. If you don't kill her, we're going to stand here until the Weyr falls down, staring at each other, and eventually they'll recapture you. They don't care which way this happens. Let her go, Aivey, and you can escape this with /your/ life. One more thing is all they need to guarantee you're left out for Thread." He does, though, take one half-step backward, obliging--he's not oblivious to what's going on around him otherwise, and while he doesn't take eyes off Aivey and Sinopa, he's very expectant for reactions from D'ven and Roa, too.
Aivey is desperate enough at this point that she ignores anything but what she wants to see. Someone will kick her for that later, to be sure. As the way is cleared, Aivey pushes Sinopa forward, her gaze continuously moving from one face to the next and her grip on that hair pin a white-knuckled one. "She'll be released when we get to where we're going. Don't make me kill her." Not a plea, but a demand. D'ven's distraction is, indeed, a distraction, though she doesn't look to him as she responds, "I set the rules, D'ven, so she'll control her or we'll both die. Do you really think dying between scares me?" Compared to what she's facing? Aivey, with Sinopa leading the way, pushes through the door and into the gauntlet of riders and guards. E'sere's words bring a sharp laugh and she turns to face him, swinging Sinopa with her, "I'm already dead... what do I have to lose?"
Sinopa is more or less swung about like a rag-doll at this point. Or a marionette, depending on how you look at it, considering that with that pointy thing at her neck she's more or less being controlled by another person. The shaky goldrider allows herself to be pushed forward, going more or less with the commands that her sense of self-preservation demands be followed so long as there's the slightest glimmer of a chance that she'll emerge from this alive. As the prisoner and her hostage move down the hall, the guards near Roa, who got out of Aivey's way so quickly, move silently. All that shuffling? A mere ruse for their true stealth abilities and combat skills. Quietly, without drawing attention to themselves, they get into position.
Aivey is permitted maybe three steps out into the hallway. Just enough that her back is turned to the first of the guards--the one without a small, barefoot weyrwoman to watch over. The freer guard, now positioned behind and to the right of the departing women, moves in a flash. The man is trained for this sort of thing, after all. He lunges, arms reaching for Aivey's waist, and his weight is all traveling forward and to the ground. The plan is to shove Aivey off to the side and to the ground. The second guard releases Roa to shoot forward. -He- is grabbing for Sinopa, to haul her up and away from Aivey and her burley assailant.
Three steps, not even enough to leave the room truly behind, and Aivey is taken down. The pin falls from her grip, clattering to the floor as she is felled. Her scramble to retrieve it is quick, but brief. A sharp, caught breath and then Aivey falls completely still. Breathing and still alive, she's just not moving.
"Not yet," E'sere notes, his smile grim. But, obediently, he backs another step away, watching expressionlessly as things play out. When Sinopa is shoved aside by one of the guards, he moves to intercept her, reaching to pull her further out of the way, and close to him as he seeks to put himself between the goldrider and the action.
Oh, my. So much excitement in one day can't be good for a girl. Hauled away from the crazy by the guard and then rescued from him by the other prisoner. Though E'sere is a far less dangerous prisoner than the last one that Sinopa visited at least. It's to the latter rescuer that Sinopa recovers enough from the shocks to cling to for a moment, before she releases her hold on the bronzerider. A whispered, "Thank you," is given and then, with a mere glance at the others, she scurries off, a hand going for E'sere to lead him off with her. Her free hand waves to the other guards, the ones who followed E'sere, in a 'come along' sort of gesture. Leave the others to sort out the crazy...
D'ven watches as things play out, occasionally shifting slightly like he might be about to do something. Once the two are separated, his gaze is on the currently still body of Aivey and the guard dealing with her. There's a brief flicker of what might be concern, before it's quickly tucked away behind an impassive face.
"Anytime," E'sere murmurs back to Sinopa as he looks worriedly down at her, then moves to follow, trailed by his two guards. Over his shoulder, he shoots one last blank look back at the motionless girl on the floor, then quickly escorts Sinopa away.
The guard on Aivey isn't fool enough to check and see if she's all right. Not yet. Not until he's got her hands behind her and bound with the little leather cuffs all of the guards carry on their person. The restraints are tied off before he's rocking back and hauling Aivey up to her feet. "Crazy as a drunken watch wher," is his muttered assessment of the whole ordeal. The other guard watches Sinopa and E'sere depart with his entourage. "Everyone else okay?" It is Roa, still silent, who steps forward to bend down and pick up the hairstick that has skittered to the ground and landed near her feet.
Aivey is unresisting throughout the whole process, and when she's on her feet, she keeps her head tilted down. The insult isn't responded too, nor is the other guards question. Strangely it's Roa's movement that Aivey follows and with it, that of the hairstick.
"Everyone seems fine." D'ven answers the query, watching Aivey. Who is watching Roa. His face remains impassive, though his eyes are definitely glued to the prisoner for now.
The guard has a firm grip on Aivey and the other is resuming his post with an eye on the small and deadly girl. "Get 'er back in there," growls the second. "And use th'shackle this time. 'm sick o' this shit."
Roa is turning the hairstick slowly in her fingers. She pushes one end and then the other, hard, against her palm. As if testing how useful it would actually be as a weapon. Her own eyes lift after this examination to meet Aivey's. "I don't know that I can visit you anymore, Aivey." The words are strangely gentle.
A hairstick with a pointy end that can do some damage, undoubtedly. Fortunately just how much damage wasn't discovered in tonight's little escapade. Aivey's attention drifts from Roa to D'ven, and then back again as the weyrwoman speaks to her. Her reply is bland, shared between bronze and goldrider alike. "A shame, I'm sure." She attempts to turn around and walk back into the storeroom turned cell, with or without the escort of a guard.
D'ven remains silent, eyes following Aivey as she's returned to her cell. There's no acknowledgment of anything said, merely a very thoughtful, almost eerie, gaze that moves with the prisoner.
Accompanied, most assuredly. The guard keeps a hold on Aivey's shoulder and she is led tot he back wall where the shackle, previously lying dormant, is put into use and clasped around the girl's left ankle. It is only then that the leather cuffs are loosened, not to be removed but to allow Aivey to bring her arms around in front of her before they're tied off again. She's going to be wearing them at least until morning, but the strict orders to make sure the prisoner is not mistreated are upheld, even now. Once he's certain Aivey's secured, the guard walks out and closes the door. And checks that it's locked. Twice. The second one watches all of this before saying, "I'll go tell th'Weyrleader. Keep watch." He turns and heads off.
Roa is left standing with the hairstick, staring at the locked door. "What the shards was she doing in there at this hour anyhow?" mutters the little weyrwoman.
Players: Sinopa, Roa, D'ven, E'sere, Aivey and multiple guards
Place: Aivey's Cell
Old Empty Storeroom
Small and rather dusty, this room is just what the name implies. It used to be another storage space for the various odds and ends used by folk regularly enough to warrant its own room. Only problem was it was too far away from most of the residential areas, so it was cleaned out and had a few modifications made to it. For instance, there are no shelves, the rugs and any tapestries have all been removed, and the door locks from the outside. A thick metal ring has been embedded in the wall off in one corner so only half of it juts out, a perfect loop for sturdy rope or a chain. There's one glowbasket up on a wall, but it's empty.
Aivey hasn't done a whole lot as of late. Between walking the rounds of her cozy home away from home, playing her messed up version of cards and pebble juggling, she's done little else. Such is the case now; her entertainment the juggling of a small pebble. She's on her feet and walking at the same time, either a testament to the never ending creativity of the 'Reaches resident murderess or indication that the scattered cards in one corner no longer amuse her. Outside her cell are her ever present guards; surly and bored. They've given up on conversation with one another. Surly is seated on a stool, bored is standing directly in front of the closed door.
The silence is broken as surly's stool is pushed back towards the wall, scraping the floor as he moves. The foot shuffles of bored indicate that he has moved a few feet away from the door. Following these sounds of life, however muted they may be, is the sound of low conversation between the guards and someone in possession of a higher, lighter feminine voice. Abruptly the voices cut off as footsteps approach the door, finally opening it to allow Aivey another visitor. With a neutral glance at the guards behind her, the current acting senior weyrwoman enters the cell slowly, pausing to glance around. As usual the woman is well dressed and her hair is well-styled in an updo held in place with a single polished stick with a bright dangly bead. After glancing about the converted storage room her dark eyes fall on Aivey and she lifts her head slightly, as though in the beginnings of a greeting. "So..." she begins, "you're the one that's caused so much trouble."
Aivey's pebble juggling abruptly stops with the pebble being tucked into her palm as she studies this new surprise. Beyond Sinopa's shoulders, the guards too are studied, but it's Sinopa who Aivey puts the full of her attention upon. "Most people just call me Aivey," she says by way of greeting, "You must be the Weyrwoman." A tilt of her head to the side isn't done in respect, but assessment of the goldrider. "Tell me, what can I do for you today?"
At first it appears that all the acting weyrwoman wants from Aivey is a simple gawk at the captive, though soon enough her critical gaze softens. "Aivey," she repeats softly, taking a step further into the cell before remaining in place once more. "They say that you and E'sere are ... partners... of a sort." There Sinopa lets the sentence rest a beat or two before she picks up, "Though I find it rather difficult to believe. They say you are spouting nothing but truth these days."
"Tell them to leave," Aivey says by way of the guards, "And I'll gladly tell you the whole truth of every last thing I've done. I don't like to brag and if they're in the room, well, it just feels like I'm bragging." Aivey folds her hands behind her back, allowing the pebble in her palm to fall to the ground, "Really though, it's your call. I don't want to rush a visitor off, especially when they're so few and far between."
It dawns on Sinopa then that she failed to hear a door shut or even click into place behind her as she entered. At the prisoner's request, Sinopa turns her head to look at the door and sure enough surly and bored stare back at her with their usual facial expressions. "You mind?" the acting senior queries, "A minute or two, please." Having surely heard the same thing from the perhaps dozen visitors that Aivey's had previously, the two guards shuffle back and let the door shut, leaving the acting senior with the crazy prisoner. Perhaps the boredom and monotony have rotted out their collective braincells. Turning back to Aivey the goldrider waits for some sort of answer.
"It started with Jensen and ended too abruptly for my tastes." Aivey starts with a small smile, "I killed the guard and the Lady, went after a few other people and poisoned the man you've come to ask me about." She pauses, a delicate pursing of her lips offered as she turns and begins walking around the far side of the room. To the practiced eye it looks like nothing more then wandering, for Aivey's words seem erratic thereafter. "E'sere, right? You've come to see if all those nasty little rumors about him are true? A shame since I think he'd make a fine Weyrleader - any man who survives what I did to him rightly would, but that's besides the point. What is it you want to know about him, specifically, my dear Weyrwoman?" There is no mockery in the title, only a dry blandness.
Sinopa quirks a brow at the mention of the former guard captain stationed at High Reaches, though she listens. Patiently and attentively, her dark eyes following the prisoner's movements as the criminal begins her string of confessions. "I heard about the poisoning," the goldrider replies, "We were quite worried about him." And then the woman's brow furrows, "If you thought he'd be a good Weyrleader, why did you poison him? But... yes. I was wondering how exactly you know him. I'm interested in hearing how these rumors started."
"Not worried enough to stay his arrest?" Aivey questions lightly, turning to face the Weyrwoman. She stops, perhaps closer then before, but at an angle that makes it impossible to judge. She motions her hands, yet more erratic movement that serves to strengthen the equally erratic flow of logic, "I poisoned him because he was a target - Nabol, at first. The fellis didn't work the first time and so I took a more drastic measure. I admit... he surprised me. I suppose though, when you all find him guilty, I'll have time to tell him that myself." Aivey's hands fall to her side as she turns and takes a half step to her left, her gaze down and considering, "I suppose they started by the /real/ people you have to worry about. I couldn't finish them off, though I did try-" She stops mid word, her gaze lifted over Sinopa's shoulder as an irritated look surfaces, "I thought she said to leave us alone?" Those damn guards, yes.
"Unfortunately there were... procedures that had to be followed," Sinopa replies, leaving her inability (or unwillingness) to prevent the arrest of the bronzerider ill-defined and unanswered for. Her brow quirks at the mention of fellis prior to the actual poisoning event, though before she asks the prisoner for further elaboration on the matter she turns her head about to glance at the door. "I did say..." she begins, but then stops and blinks as there's nothing but the closed door. Buh?
Four quick steps is all it takes to close the distance, and for one arm to wrap around the underside of Sinopa's jaw and her other free hand to pluck the decorative hair piece from it's resting point. Though it's a bit of a reach for the shorter Aivey, the pull of her weight against the other woman's neck and the tightness of the arm pinned against that vulnerable point help her compensate. Aivey wedges the tip of the hair pin above her arm and tight against the side of Sinopa's neck. Her voice is low and controlled, contrasting the earlier erratic behavior, "Before you tell anyone about this, I want you to know it's not personal. If you do what I say I won't kill you. If you don't do what I say then you won't need to worry about the hole I'll put in your neck. Nod your head if you understand me."
The removal of the hair piece releases Sinopa's curly hair, which bobs down about her shoulders. The sudden physical contact and immediate threat to her life cause Sinopa to tense up and freeze as she's dragged slightly backwards by Aivey, her eyes wide as saucers with startlement. Something that could be "what?" is stammered around before the goldrider shakes a moment. And then, after a moment or two -- for some thoughts take a few moments to process and be registered -- there's a very shaky and slight nodding of her head, done carefully so as not to push that sharp pointy thing at any part of her neck that would result in a big mess. "What... do you want?" she finally manages to squeak out. Now where are the guards when you need them?
"What I don't want is to be staked out for Thread, for other people to get the credit for everything I did... everything I bled for. It's only right, don't you think?" Aivey asks, her voice a quiet whisper close to Sinopa's ear, "Move toward the door.." A slight nudge from Aivey attempts to coerce the goldrider in that direction, though she sets the pace and keeps her grip tight and far too controlled, "I want you to order them to open the door, and I want you to order them to stay back. Then you'll take me to your dragon and we'll take a little trip. Somewhere nice where you can leave me - I don't want to stay here - do you understand?" She pauses quickly, "If anyone tries to stop us, I'll kill you. Don't think I'll think twice about it."
If there was ever any doubt that Aivey was anything less than completely insane, that tiny bit has been violently squished all over the floor. The shaky goldrider moves as ordered - stiffly and hesitantly as any scared person in her situation would. No reply or confirmation that she's accepted Aivey's orders, though she does call out to the guards, "I'd like to... like to leave now." Her voice out to be a dead give away that something is wrong. Immediately following this statement she swallows - loudly - and then adds, "And... please, please don't... get too close..." she fumbles for words, there, "Stay b-back."
There's a dry laugh, a puff of hot air against Sinopa's neck as Aivey tightens her grip on Sinopa, "You should try to be convincing, Sinopa. I mean, I know you're scared but honestly-" She really doesn't have the opportunity to say a whole lot else, for that door is bound to open soon and she'll have more then enough to deal with then. "Remember what I said." About the killage and stabbity-stabbage.
The door does open soon enough - no matter how panicked and suspicious that order sounded, the acting senior can't very well just be left in there with the crazy. Surly and bored no longer look quite so bored, though surly is still an apt description of how both are looking when the door is cracked open. Sinopa merely swallows loudly again and stares back at the guards with a 'do /something/' expression. Aivey clearly has charge of this whole situation.
(Pro'd) (Dragonriders) Thick and heavy smoke, reminiscent of a large smoky fire, accompanies Citalth's alarm. << She's being harmed!! >> Accompanying the alarm and plea for help are a series of images -- guards, a storeroom being used to hold a prisoner, and Aivey. Sinopa
(Pro'd) Citalth> Morelenth's mental touch is desperate, angry, and anxious as he reaches out. << Citalth! Citalth, mine--he is-->> He struggles for words, and finally offers a picture from his viewpoint: the interior of E'sere's weyr, his rider facing off the two guards with him, all of them furious-looking.
"You'll let us pass or I will kill her." Aivey declares, and for effect, presses the pointed tip of the hair pin against Sinopa's neck. The desired effect is for Sinopa's discomfort and fear to convince them. "Stand aside - all the way aside and let us pass."
The desired effect is achieved - Sinopa half-cringes and then squeaks at the guards, "Do it!" Surly and bored glower back at the girl, though the pair take a half-step back, widening the entry a bit. And then another little bit, shuffling all the while. Stalling, perhaps, or just extremely reluctant to be giving into the prisoner's demands.
Thwip-thwap, thwip-thwap...this is the sound of bare feet pounding down the hallway. Roa must have been just woken up, because she's in half pants, a tank top, and a long, white sweater thrown over the top of it. Her hair is in a long braid spilling down her back, and her eyes are huge as she rounds on the guards. "She's in danger." And then, a bit louder, "Aivey! Stop!" Roa cannot see what is actually happening. She can only assume. So she does.
D'ven is following Roa. He looks like he was already awake and active, and one hand is inside his jacket. "I'd do as weyrwoman Roa says if I were you, Aivey." He remarks conversationally, coming to stand a little bit forward of the tiny goldrider. Just in case.
With two guards looking furious as they scramble in his wake, E'sere barges through the halls of the Weyr unerringly toward that storeroom in question. People get out of his way quickly as he passes, staring at the procession. E'sere doesn't stop until he arrives, coming from the opposite direction as Roa and D'ven. "Sinopa," is his first concern, eyes settling on her and then her prisoner as he takes another step forward.
Aivey does not make the same mistake twice. She is not cocky or bold as she begins moving forward, only to abruptly stop as Roa's voice is heard. An angry glare falls to the back of Sinopa's head and a hidden grin curls upward in private delight. "I'm leaving, Roa, and you won't stop me." Shouted out to the goldrider with yet another push against Sinopa, "Your end of the deal, Weyrwoman, or I will kill you where you stand." Aloud and to those who've arrived, D'ven and E'sere among them, Aivey offers a very tight, "I think you misunderstand... I am the one with the neck of a goldrider at my disposal. Now get out of my way. All of you."
"Just... just do it!" Sinopa says, the same panic in her wide eyes, which fall on E'sere when he comes into her line of sight, quite easy to hear in her shaky voice. "Get... back, please. All of you." Nevermind that help was called for, the poor woman would like to keep her neck hole free, thank you very much. The guards in charge of Aivey back off fully, stepping ot the side to allow the pisoner and her hostage unhindered passage through the door.
The little weyrwoman moves as if she'll step forward and into the room, but one of the guards grabs her and yanks her back. They got enough on their hands without adding one more potential hostage to the mix. Still, Roa calls, shoulder twitching angrily as she's held, "This won't work. You won't make it down the corridor. Where will you go? Who will take you? There's two guards and three dragonriders out here. You lose, Aivey. Step down."
D'ven stays where he is for now, since he's not currently in the way. At least, not of Aivey coming out the doorway. "She has a point, Aivey." He remarks, his tone conversational. "I think this may have been somewhat ill-concieved. It was a good try though, and an unexpected move."
E'sere doesn't move back as Aivey orders, feet firmly planted as he stares at her flatly. "You picked the wrong goldrider to bargain with, Aivey," he tells her evenly, calm, expressionless. "Do you think they care if Sinopa dies?" A gesture to Roa, D'ven. "It'd be a tragic accident, but also a convenient one for them: they'll get to take out the competition and you both. They aren't going to let you go, even if it means she dies."
There's a particular quality to Aivey's eyes, one D'ven likely won't be much of a stranger to. The fact that she is good and well trapped. Sinopa's neck is looking better and better. Her attention switches from one face to the next, moving too rapidly to take in much of anything. More to D'ven then Roa, Aivey says, "I swear I will kill her if its the last thing I do. Let me go." She doesn't move - won't move past those who are now filling the corridor. E'sere's words have her shifting, leveling harder on Sinopa's neck. "Order them to stand down, Sinopa. This is the last chance you'll get."
Oh, whoa there escapee number two... saying such things does not comfort the poor hostage! Poor Sinopa, new to this hostage thing and never had anyone take a shining to her neck quite like Aivey has. Oh dear. This can't end well. The acting senior is practically trembling at this point. "Just listen to her," she manages to get out shakily, her voice practically a squeak. "Back off... go away... just let us out of here."
The guard holding onto Roa flashes a glance towards his companion and a single small nod is exchanged. They're flattening up against the wall, the one who holds the little weyrwoman pulling her along with him. The other one is looking intently at E'sere. Or, rather, the back of E'sere's head. "Better do as the Weyrwoman orders, Sir. Don't want things to get outta hand." The way that last is said, so terse and clipped, might imply that there's a second reason, beyond those actual words, that the guards would like the doorway cleared. Roa is watching, but for now, she is, usually enough, compliant.
D'ven does indeed back off, though he doesn't go away since he has Aivey talking to him. "Oh, I know you will Aivey. But, if you do that, the game ends." It's pointed out thoughtfully. "What we need, is a way to change the game." He muses, half to himself and half to her. "To be honest, Aivey, Sinopa isn't a very good piece to have right now. I mean, sure, you could get her out into the bowl with you. But then where? To get away successfully, you'd need a dragon. Sure, you have Sinopa. But panicking dragonriders...well, you don't want to never come out of between, do you?" His tone is calm and conversational. "So, Aivey, what do you suggest?"
"If you kill Sinopa," E'sere continues in that same calm, even, talking-to-the-crazies voice, "you're out a hostage and they'll recapture you. If you don't kill her, we're going to stand here until the Weyr falls down, staring at each other, and eventually they'll recapture you. They don't care which way this happens. Let her go, Aivey, and you can escape this with /your/ life. One more thing is all they need to guarantee you're left out for Thread." He does, though, take one half-step backward, obliging--he's not oblivious to what's going on around him otherwise, and while he doesn't take eyes off Aivey and Sinopa, he's very expectant for reactions from D'ven and Roa, too.
Aivey is desperate enough at this point that she ignores anything but what she wants to see. Someone will kick her for that later, to be sure. As the way is cleared, Aivey pushes Sinopa forward, her gaze continuously moving from one face to the next and her grip on that hair pin a white-knuckled one. "She'll be released when we get to where we're going. Don't make me kill her." Not a plea, but a demand. D'ven's distraction is, indeed, a distraction, though she doesn't look to him as she responds, "I set the rules, D'ven, so she'll control her or we'll both die. Do you really think dying between scares me?" Compared to what she's facing? Aivey, with Sinopa leading the way, pushes through the door and into the gauntlet of riders and guards. E'sere's words bring a sharp laugh and she turns to face him, swinging Sinopa with her, "I'm already dead... what do I have to lose?"
Sinopa is more or less swung about like a rag-doll at this point. Or a marionette, depending on how you look at it, considering that with that pointy thing at her neck she's more or less being controlled by another person. The shaky goldrider allows herself to be pushed forward, going more or less with the commands that her sense of self-preservation demands be followed so long as there's the slightest glimmer of a chance that she'll emerge from this alive. As the prisoner and her hostage move down the hall, the guards near Roa, who got out of Aivey's way so quickly, move silently. All that shuffling? A mere ruse for their true stealth abilities and combat skills. Quietly, without drawing attention to themselves, they get into position.
Aivey is permitted maybe three steps out into the hallway. Just enough that her back is turned to the first of the guards--the one without a small, barefoot weyrwoman to watch over. The freer guard, now positioned behind and to the right of the departing women, moves in a flash. The man is trained for this sort of thing, after all. He lunges, arms reaching for Aivey's waist, and his weight is all traveling forward and to the ground. The plan is to shove Aivey off to the side and to the ground. The second guard releases Roa to shoot forward. -He- is grabbing for Sinopa, to haul her up and away from Aivey and her burley assailant.
Three steps, not even enough to leave the room truly behind, and Aivey is taken down. The pin falls from her grip, clattering to the floor as she is felled. Her scramble to retrieve it is quick, but brief. A sharp, caught breath and then Aivey falls completely still. Breathing and still alive, she's just not moving.
"Not yet," E'sere notes, his smile grim. But, obediently, he backs another step away, watching expressionlessly as things play out. When Sinopa is shoved aside by one of the guards, he moves to intercept her, reaching to pull her further out of the way, and close to him as he seeks to put himself between the goldrider and the action.
Oh, my. So much excitement in one day can't be good for a girl. Hauled away from the crazy by the guard and then rescued from him by the other prisoner. Though E'sere is a far less dangerous prisoner than the last one that Sinopa visited at least. It's to the latter rescuer that Sinopa recovers enough from the shocks to cling to for a moment, before she releases her hold on the bronzerider. A whispered, "Thank you," is given and then, with a mere glance at the others, she scurries off, a hand going for E'sere to lead him off with her. Her free hand waves to the other guards, the ones who followed E'sere, in a 'come along' sort of gesture. Leave the others to sort out the crazy...
D'ven watches as things play out, occasionally shifting slightly like he might be about to do something. Once the two are separated, his gaze is on the currently still body of Aivey and the guard dealing with her. There's a brief flicker of what might be concern, before it's quickly tucked away behind an impassive face.
"Anytime," E'sere murmurs back to Sinopa as he looks worriedly down at her, then moves to follow, trailed by his two guards. Over his shoulder, he shoots one last blank look back at the motionless girl on the floor, then quickly escorts Sinopa away.
The guard on Aivey isn't fool enough to check and see if she's all right. Not yet. Not until he's got her hands behind her and bound with the little leather cuffs all of the guards carry on their person. The restraints are tied off before he's rocking back and hauling Aivey up to her feet. "Crazy as a drunken watch wher," is his muttered assessment of the whole ordeal. The other guard watches Sinopa and E'sere depart with his entourage. "Everyone else okay?" It is Roa, still silent, who steps forward to bend down and pick up the hairstick that has skittered to the ground and landed near her feet.
Aivey is unresisting throughout the whole process, and when she's on her feet, she keeps her head tilted down. The insult isn't responded too, nor is the other guards question. Strangely it's Roa's movement that Aivey follows and with it, that of the hairstick.
"Everyone seems fine." D'ven answers the query, watching Aivey. Who is watching Roa. His face remains impassive, though his eyes are definitely glued to the prisoner for now.
The guard has a firm grip on Aivey and the other is resuming his post with an eye on the small and deadly girl. "Get 'er back in there," growls the second. "And use th'shackle this time. 'm sick o' this shit."
Roa is turning the hairstick slowly in her fingers. She pushes one end and then the other, hard, against her palm. As if testing how useful it would actually be as a weapon. Her own eyes lift after this examination to meet Aivey's. "I don't know that I can visit you anymore, Aivey." The words are strangely gentle.
A hairstick with a pointy end that can do some damage, undoubtedly. Fortunately just how much damage wasn't discovered in tonight's little escapade. Aivey's attention drifts from Roa to D'ven, and then back again as the weyrwoman speaks to her. Her reply is bland, shared between bronze and goldrider alike. "A shame, I'm sure." She attempts to turn around and walk back into the storeroom turned cell, with or without the escort of a guard.
D'ven remains silent, eyes following Aivey as she's returned to her cell. There's no acknowledgment of anything said, merely a very thoughtful, almost eerie, gaze that moves with the prisoner.
Accompanied, most assuredly. The guard keeps a hold on Aivey's shoulder and she is led tot he back wall where the shackle, previously lying dormant, is put into use and clasped around the girl's left ankle. It is only then that the leather cuffs are loosened, not to be removed but to allow Aivey to bring her arms around in front of her before they're tied off again. She's going to be wearing them at least until morning, but the strict orders to make sure the prisoner is not mistreated are upheld, even now. Once he's certain Aivey's secured, the guard walks out and closes the door. And checks that it's locked. Twice. The second one watches all of this before saying, "I'll go tell th'Weyrleader. Keep watch." He turns and heads off.
Roa is left standing with the hairstick, staring at the locked door. "What the shards was she doing in there at this hour anyhow?" mutters the little weyrwoman.