LOG: Yell or throw things
Date: Day 7, Month 3, Turn 26
Location: Records Room, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Emmeline has a request. K'del has an offer.
Records Room, High Reaches Weyr
Books. Scrolls. Bound hides. Maps. If it's a record pertaining to the Weyr, it's likely to be in this roughly oval room with its floor-to-ceiling cherrywood shelves, its multitude of slots for scrolls, and its wide drawers for materials that shouldn't be rolled up or folded. A scribe is usually on duty at the tall desk up front with its good view of the room, and is able to help visitors find what they're looking for via the big bound index on its rotating stand. Past the desk, several tables stand in neat rows for note-taking, each stocked with glowbaskets, scrap hide, paper and pencils. Additional lighting is provided by a many-armed wrought-iron light fixture, its glows gleaming through luxurious glass containers in fluted shapes instead of baskets.
To one side of the room, a gap between two sets of shelves outlines where another set once stood, now replaced by a tapestry-covered aperture. Peeking behind the tapestry reveals another cavern, this one likewise full of shelves, but occupied by only a few boxes of older records and a somewhat musty air of disuse. As well, two narrow but solid doors are locked when the room is unattended and a discreet staircase provides direct access from the Weyrleaders' weyrs.
At this point in the evening, the Records Room is largely empty - so much so that K'del's tall figure sitting in the midst of all the empty tables is even more obvious than usual. He's reading - or, at least, he seems to be /trying/ to read, because his gaze keeps flicking up and away from his work, lingering upon /anything/ except the pages. Even so, he keeps turning them: perhaps he's pretending?
Trying to look for K'del, but maybe not look as hard as she should be, finally leads Emmeline to the records room. So that even if he's not here she can seek refuge for awhile and perhaps bang her head against adesk a few times before going back to the barracks. Alas, there he is. So she takes a deep breath, lets it whistle out past her lips, and walks over to his table quietly. "Helps to keep your eyes on the page. If you really want to read it." she notes, propping her chin in her hand, and her elbow on the table, and looking about as pleased to be there as he is. "I don't really want to bother you, but I promised I would. So, I hope you have a moment."
K'del's gaze, as he glances up, is owlish and distracted; he manages nothing but the faintest of smiles as, rubbing his eyes, he allows, "You're probably right. Ought not to be trying at all, but the baby is crying and if I have to listen to screaming any long--" He breaks off. "You don't need to know that. What can I help you with, Harper Emmeline?" Dropping his hands again, he pushes the book away, then crossing his arms in front of him. He looks /tired/.
"Say no more. Shrieking babies... I know. Or rather, I understand. None of my own, so I can't really /know/..." Right, she's babbling. Finding herself in much the same mood as she was when the topic was brought up at the dinner table not so long ago, Emme again rubs at her forehead. "Just Emme. Unless you're going to make me call you Weyrleader K'del all the time, which frankly is just a mouthful to have to say ALL the time." Nervous fingers tap against the wood of the table as the girl considers her options for phrasing. She goes with blunt. "Rhaelyn, Riorde.. Iolene. Rhaelyn is a bitch, and undoubtedly baited Riorde until Ri took a swing at her. So, the two of them... deserve what they're getting." And given that Ri is a friend of hers, least she's being honest. "Iolene wouldn't hurt a fly, and was just trying to stop the other two girls from doing more damage. And really, /all/ of the exiles banned? Can you maybe, I dunno, force us to go with escorts or something? And just ban Rhaelyn and Ri?"
For all that K'del manages a little rueful smile for Emmeline's first couple of words, it tightens rather dramatically as she continues and, again, he scrubs at his eyes with both hands. "I can't," he tells her, plainly, once she's finished her questions. He glances at her with tired eyes, expression vaguely sympathetic, but at the same time-- hard, somehow. "For starters, Iovniath and Cadejoth are reluctant to have /anyone/ in the galleries at the moment, let alone exiles. And your three friends showed a complete lack of awareness even beyond their fight. They might have killed a dragon. And if it happened once... can we trust you all? You're still so new to all of this."
"Well, let's get one thing straight. Rhaelyn is no friend of mine and never has been. Just because we're all islanders, doesn't mean we all like each other." Emmeline points out dryly. But remarkably, she just nods at the rest of what he says and leans back in her chair. "I'm not going to say you can trust us all, because you probably can't. Most of us yes, some of us no. But you don't have a real good way to tell. So, can we just pretend I sat here arguing my case for awhile?" she wonders, appearing equally as tired, and far less happy then she ought to considering she's gotten pretty much everything she's asked for up until this point. "We can yell or throw things if that will help it all be convincing."
K'del lifts both hands as if to protect himself, saying, "Point taken, point taken. Sorry." But the weariness hasn't gone away; and nor has the way he keeps glancing at the exit, though it seems less as though he actually wants to escape and more... more /something else/. Shifting his gaze back towards Emmeline he adds, "Look - I do take your point, I really do. And maybe... maybe later on, when things have calmed down a bit, we can do supervised visits, or something. Small groups. Because-- I don't want you all to be punished. It's not that I do, right? It's--" He breaks off, clearly frustrating. "If you throw something at me, I don't know that I'll be able to properly dodge. Can I suggest an alternative?"
Emmeline glances over at the doorway, and then back at K'del. "Am I really that frightening. Because I can assure you hardly anyone else thinks so. I'm sure not going to stop you from going." Now it's her turn to hold up her hands defensively. "I'm not trying to say ou want to see us all punished. I think you're just trying to make the best out of a situation you're stuck in. Supervised visits in small groups... sure, it's something. Makes it look like I was actually convincing too. I won't argue with that." she decides. "Suggest away. I'm all ears." There's a considering pause there. "You want to understand why I'm not all that enthusiastic about pleading our case?"
K'del flushes, though he's quick to assure Emmeline, "No, no, you're not. It's--" He pauses, and lets it slide for several moments as he regards her. "I know. And, well... Let's say I ask you to Stand for Iovniath and Cadejoth's clutch right now. You could tell anyone who asks that you were so distracted by the honour of being actually /searched/, rather than just instructed to stand by your elders or anyone else... you let me win." He's brows raise: he looks at her intently. "Though I wouldn't mind understanding your lack of enthusiasm, too."
Emmeline looks confused enough to actually be comical at that, and squints a little at K'del. "The only contact I've had with dragons is the ride here. And you think people are going to buy that?" she wonders, but then also shrugs. "And I thought you said many of the younger exiles are going to be candidates anyway." Still, the idea obviously has it's appeal because she sits there considering before giving K'del a firm nod. "Alright. I can do this. I've certainly nothing to lose, right? I can go back to the craft when I'm left on the sands?" Seeking to reassure herself, she also starts demonstrating the reason for her lack of enthusiasm at the same time... by rolling up one of her sleeves and showing the bottom half of her arm that's scarred. "One of the exiles caused this, back on the Island. You want to guess how many of my "friends" actually stood up for me and tried to do anything about it? Just one. Riorde. That's it. And now that we're here, *I'm* still expected to keep sticking up for -everyone- because it's best for -everyone- and I need to work for the betterment of -everyone- because we're all just one big exile family. How enthusiastic would you be?"
K'del sounds genuine, though still awkward as he explains, running his fingers through his hair, "Cadejoth's been paying attention. I actually do mean this-- he really /does/ want you to stand for the clutch. His track record isn't /great/, but..." He seems pleased by her willingness, bypassing other thoughts, though his attention is clearly taken by the burn scar; he looks horrified, even faintly ill. "That's-- uh. I take your point. I hope..." He shakes his head, as though not entirely sure /what/ he hopes. After a moment, he adds, "If you Impress, you could be a Harper rider. We could use that kind of thing. You can imagine how useful it is, having trained crafters able to zip around as easy as anything."
"Really? Well, you might want to skip the part about his track record for the next person you ask." Emme suggests, with a bit of a wry smirk on her face for the comment. And she does glance away at his change in expression, quickly shoving her sleeve back down again. "Hope what?" Please, as if she's going to let -that- go. It's really the news of being a Harper and rider that grasps her attention and makes her gaze sharpen. "Is that right? Well, that would sure be interesting.."
K'del gives a wry little laugh - he doesn't seem any less awkward, despite Emmeline's acceptance. Despite... everything. "I'll keep that in mind," he tells her, attempting a grave expression. "It's not like /all/ of his have failed, mind you. And he seems pretty confident." The bronzerider, however, shrugs. Answering her question makes him pause, however. "I hope you manage to become your own person," he says, finally. "Whether through Impressing a dragon, or becoming a great Harper. But-- yeah. With no 'fall, there's plenty of room for people to keep going with their training. The weyr encourages it, even. Though you'll have to put it all aside until after graduation. If you Impress, I mean." He looks... awkward all over again. "I'm sorry. I'm usually better at this. Your Search is supposed to be all memorable, and..." And he sucks.
"Is there a reason why you seem so awkward talking to me? If I'm not frightening, that is. It's a little disconcerting. I'm too blunt, aren't I. That must be it." Still, Emme gives a bit more of a cheerful grin at the news of Cadejoth's confidence. "Well, thank you. And Cadejoth. I hope... really, I hope we all find a bit of peace and happiness. That's all. Myself included. Some of us just seem to have to work a little harder for it." That she'll apparently have to wait until after some graduation of some kind just makes her shrug. "I suspect I'll be rather caught up in a new role in life up until then anyhow. And at least I won't be an apprentice, following apprentice rules, for the next 10 Turns. And oh, it's memorable enough. I wouldn't worry about that."
Being called on his awkwardness only seems to make K'del /more/ awkward, though he manages not to duck his gaze away. "It's not-- not just you. Shells. I'm sorry, Emmeline. It's been a really rotten couple of months, and I swear, every time I turn around there's something more I'm in trouble about, or designed to cause me grief." He puts his hands on the table, palm down, and adds, "Plus, I guess, you always need something from me. Maybe we should just meet socially, next time?" His head inclines for her desires, and he confirms, "I hope you get that. All of you. Can't imagine being an Apprentice like that, either! Way too strange." Relieved, apparently, by her confirmation about the means of searched, he settles back in his chair, stretching his shoulders.
"Uhm, sorry. Since we seem to be the cause of all that." Now it's Emme's turn to fidget, and okay... maybe look a bit sheepish. "You actually have time to meet with people socially?" Color her surprised, certainly. "How about I promise that next time we talk, I won't mention anything exile related? Maybe, since you know so much about all of us at this point... you can tell me a bit about yourself, instead. Aside from being the kid weyrleader, that is." she prompts, and then of course makes a face at his not being able to imagine being an apprentice. "I love the craft. But enjoying the apprenticeship isn't something I can imagine anyone my age would appreciate."
For once, K'del seems honest, /genuinely/ amused - he even laughs. "Not a /lot/ of time," he allows. "But some. I'd like that." The promise, evidently: he's nodding enthusiastically. "I can do that. All those little details... you can ask me as many questions as Iolene has. But hopefully less awkward ones." He looks rueful again, for that admission, but breaks it off in order to smile. "No, I guess not. I had the whole Weyrleader when people my age were still Apprentices thing, and that was hard. But being the most junior apprentice when other people are closer to Journeyman..." He breaks off. "At least if you come back as a rider, you're coming from a different perspective. Seems like, anyway."
"Iolene has much less of a filter, then I do. Although I guess, well... Nevermind." Choosing not to pursue that line of thought, Emme just waves it aside. "Hopefully I'll catch you around, then. It'd be nice to get to know more people without all the stuff that comes along with my background." Seeming pleased with this development, there's first a nod. "Yes. Thanks for the reminder about my most minimal status." the girl murmurs, reaching behind herself to squeeze the back of her neck lightly and relieve the knot of tension there. "It /is/ awkward. And it would be real nice to come at it from a different perspective. We'll see, I guess." She's apparently not one to get her hopes up overly much at this point, but her expression is at least appreciative. "I've probably taken up enough of your time though. One more problem solved, at least."
K'del seems to agree with Emmeline's assessment of Iolene; he looks, briefly, amused. "I'd like it, too," he confirms, giving his book a glance before his gaze returns to Emmeline. "Sorry-- I didn't mean that. Still. Maybe there'll be a dragon for you. Congratulations, by the way." That seems genuine - even warm. "I'll see you around, Candidate Emmeline. Have a good night. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more use about the ban."
Now, at least, Emmeline can laugh. "I know you didn't mean it that way. It's just something I'm acutely aware of." she assures. "And I can at least spread the word that if everyone is patient, and nothing else bad happens, we may eventually be allowed back in small groups or with an escort. Then, I will blame you for distracting me with talk of Search. I can work with that. And, thank you." Responding with equal warmth, she offers another brief smile before heading back out the door.
Location: Records Room, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Emmeline has a request. K'del has an offer.
Records Room, High Reaches Weyr
Books. Scrolls. Bound hides. Maps. If it's a record pertaining to the Weyr, it's likely to be in this roughly oval room with its floor-to-ceiling cherrywood shelves, its multitude of slots for scrolls, and its wide drawers for materials that shouldn't be rolled up or folded. A scribe is usually on duty at the tall desk up front with its good view of the room, and is able to help visitors find what they're looking for via the big bound index on its rotating stand. Past the desk, several tables stand in neat rows for note-taking, each stocked with glowbaskets, scrap hide, paper and pencils. Additional lighting is provided by a many-armed wrought-iron light fixture, its glows gleaming through luxurious glass containers in fluted shapes instead of baskets.
To one side of the room, a gap between two sets of shelves outlines where another set once stood, now replaced by a tapestry-covered aperture. Peeking behind the tapestry reveals another cavern, this one likewise full of shelves, but occupied by only a few boxes of older records and a somewhat musty air of disuse. As well, two narrow but solid doors are locked when the room is unattended and a discreet staircase provides direct access from the Weyrleaders' weyrs.
At this point in the evening, the Records Room is largely empty - so much so that K'del's tall figure sitting in the midst of all the empty tables is even more obvious than usual. He's reading - or, at least, he seems to be /trying/ to read, because his gaze keeps flicking up and away from his work, lingering upon /anything/ except the pages. Even so, he keeps turning them: perhaps he's pretending?
Trying to look for K'del, but maybe not look as hard as she should be, finally leads Emmeline to the records room. So that even if he's not here she can seek refuge for awhile and perhaps bang her head against adesk a few times before going back to the barracks. Alas, there he is. So she takes a deep breath, lets it whistle out past her lips, and walks over to his table quietly. "Helps to keep your eyes on the page. If you really want to read it." she notes, propping her chin in her hand, and her elbow on the table, and looking about as pleased to be there as he is. "I don't really want to bother you, but I promised I would. So, I hope you have a moment."
K'del's gaze, as he glances up, is owlish and distracted; he manages nothing but the faintest of smiles as, rubbing his eyes, he allows, "You're probably right. Ought not to be trying at all, but the baby is crying and if I have to listen to screaming any long--" He breaks off. "You don't need to know that. What can I help you with, Harper Emmeline?" Dropping his hands again, he pushes the book away, then crossing his arms in front of him. He looks /tired/.
"Say no more. Shrieking babies... I know. Or rather, I understand. None of my own, so I can't really /know/..." Right, she's babbling. Finding herself in much the same mood as she was when the topic was brought up at the dinner table not so long ago, Emme again rubs at her forehead. "Just Emme. Unless you're going to make me call you Weyrleader K'del all the time, which frankly is just a mouthful to have to say ALL the time." Nervous fingers tap against the wood of the table as the girl considers her options for phrasing. She goes with blunt. "Rhaelyn, Riorde.. Iolene. Rhaelyn is a bitch, and undoubtedly baited Riorde until Ri took a swing at her. So, the two of them... deserve what they're getting." And given that Ri is a friend of hers, least she's being honest. "Iolene wouldn't hurt a fly, and was just trying to stop the other two girls from doing more damage. And really, /all/ of the exiles banned? Can you maybe, I dunno, force us to go with escorts or something? And just ban Rhaelyn and Ri?"
For all that K'del manages a little rueful smile for Emmeline's first couple of words, it tightens rather dramatically as she continues and, again, he scrubs at his eyes with both hands. "I can't," he tells her, plainly, once she's finished her questions. He glances at her with tired eyes, expression vaguely sympathetic, but at the same time-- hard, somehow. "For starters, Iovniath and Cadejoth are reluctant to have /anyone/ in the galleries at the moment, let alone exiles. And your three friends showed a complete lack of awareness even beyond their fight. They might have killed a dragon. And if it happened once... can we trust you all? You're still so new to all of this."
"Well, let's get one thing straight. Rhaelyn is no friend of mine and never has been. Just because we're all islanders, doesn't mean we all like each other." Emmeline points out dryly. But remarkably, she just nods at the rest of what he says and leans back in her chair. "I'm not going to say you can trust us all, because you probably can't. Most of us yes, some of us no. But you don't have a real good way to tell. So, can we just pretend I sat here arguing my case for awhile?" she wonders, appearing equally as tired, and far less happy then she ought to considering she's gotten pretty much everything she's asked for up until this point. "We can yell or throw things if that will help it all be convincing."
K'del lifts both hands as if to protect himself, saying, "Point taken, point taken. Sorry." But the weariness hasn't gone away; and nor has the way he keeps glancing at the exit, though it seems less as though he actually wants to escape and more... more /something else/. Shifting his gaze back towards Emmeline he adds, "Look - I do take your point, I really do. And maybe... maybe later on, when things have calmed down a bit, we can do supervised visits, or something. Small groups. Because-- I don't want you all to be punished. It's not that I do, right? It's--" He breaks off, clearly frustrating. "If you throw something at me, I don't know that I'll be able to properly dodge. Can I suggest an alternative?"
Emmeline glances over at the doorway, and then back at K'del. "Am I really that frightening. Because I can assure you hardly anyone else thinks so. I'm sure not going to stop you from going." Now it's her turn to hold up her hands defensively. "I'm not trying to say ou want to see us all punished. I think you're just trying to make the best out of a situation you're stuck in. Supervised visits in small groups... sure, it's something. Makes it look like I was actually convincing too. I won't argue with that." she decides. "Suggest away. I'm all ears." There's a considering pause there. "You want to understand why I'm not all that enthusiastic about pleading our case?"
K'del flushes, though he's quick to assure Emmeline, "No, no, you're not. It's--" He pauses, and lets it slide for several moments as he regards her. "I know. And, well... Let's say I ask you to Stand for Iovniath and Cadejoth's clutch right now. You could tell anyone who asks that you were so distracted by the honour of being actually /searched/, rather than just instructed to stand by your elders or anyone else... you let me win." He's brows raise: he looks at her intently. "Though I wouldn't mind understanding your lack of enthusiasm, too."
Emmeline looks confused enough to actually be comical at that, and squints a little at K'del. "The only contact I've had with dragons is the ride here. And you think people are going to buy that?" she wonders, but then also shrugs. "And I thought you said many of the younger exiles are going to be candidates anyway." Still, the idea obviously has it's appeal because she sits there considering before giving K'del a firm nod. "Alright. I can do this. I've certainly nothing to lose, right? I can go back to the craft when I'm left on the sands?" Seeking to reassure herself, she also starts demonstrating the reason for her lack of enthusiasm at the same time... by rolling up one of her sleeves and showing the bottom half of her arm that's scarred. "One of the exiles caused this, back on the Island. You want to guess how many of my "friends" actually stood up for me and tried to do anything about it? Just one. Riorde. That's it. And now that we're here, *I'm* still expected to keep sticking up for -everyone- because it's best for -everyone- and I need to work for the betterment of -everyone- because we're all just one big exile family. How enthusiastic would you be?"
K'del sounds genuine, though still awkward as he explains, running his fingers through his hair, "Cadejoth's been paying attention. I actually do mean this-- he really /does/ want you to stand for the clutch. His track record isn't /great/, but..." He seems pleased by her willingness, bypassing other thoughts, though his attention is clearly taken by the burn scar; he looks horrified, even faintly ill. "That's-- uh. I take your point. I hope..." He shakes his head, as though not entirely sure /what/ he hopes. After a moment, he adds, "If you Impress, you could be a Harper rider. We could use that kind of thing. You can imagine how useful it is, having trained crafters able to zip around as easy as anything."
"Really? Well, you might want to skip the part about his track record for the next person you ask." Emme suggests, with a bit of a wry smirk on her face for the comment. And she does glance away at his change in expression, quickly shoving her sleeve back down again. "Hope what?" Please, as if she's going to let -that- go. It's really the news of being a Harper and rider that grasps her attention and makes her gaze sharpen. "Is that right? Well, that would sure be interesting.."
K'del gives a wry little laugh - he doesn't seem any less awkward, despite Emmeline's acceptance. Despite... everything. "I'll keep that in mind," he tells her, attempting a grave expression. "It's not like /all/ of his have failed, mind you. And he seems pretty confident." The bronzerider, however, shrugs. Answering her question makes him pause, however. "I hope you manage to become your own person," he says, finally. "Whether through Impressing a dragon, or becoming a great Harper. But-- yeah. With no 'fall, there's plenty of room for people to keep going with their training. The weyr encourages it, even. Though you'll have to put it all aside until after graduation. If you Impress, I mean." He looks... awkward all over again. "I'm sorry. I'm usually better at this. Your Search is supposed to be all memorable, and..." And he sucks.
"Is there a reason why you seem so awkward talking to me? If I'm not frightening, that is. It's a little disconcerting. I'm too blunt, aren't I. That must be it." Still, Emme gives a bit more of a cheerful grin at the news of Cadejoth's confidence. "Well, thank you. And Cadejoth. I hope... really, I hope we all find a bit of peace and happiness. That's all. Myself included. Some of us just seem to have to work a little harder for it." That she'll apparently have to wait until after some graduation of some kind just makes her shrug. "I suspect I'll be rather caught up in a new role in life up until then anyhow. And at least I won't be an apprentice, following apprentice rules, for the next 10 Turns. And oh, it's memorable enough. I wouldn't worry about that."
Being called on his awkwardness only seems to make K'del /more/ awkward, though he manages not to duck his gaze away. "It's not-- not just you. Shells. I'm sorry, Emmeline. It's been a really rotten couple of months, and I swear, every time I turn around there's something more I'm in trouble about, or designed to cause me grief." He puts his hands on the table, palm down, and adds, "Plus, I guess, you always need something from me. Maybe we should just meet socially, next time?" His head inclines for her desires, and he confirms, "I hope you get that. All of you. Can't imagine being an Apprentice like that, either! Way too strange." Relieved, apparently, by her confirmation about the means of searched, he settles back in his chair, stretching his shoulders.
"Uhm, sorry. Since we seem to be the cause of all that." Now it's Emme's turn to fidget, and okay... maybe look a bit sheepish. "You actually have time to meet with people socially?" Color her surprised, certainly. "How about I promise that next time we talk, I won't mention anything exile related? Maybe, since you know so much about all of us at this point... you can tell me a bit about yourself, instead. Aside from being the kid weyrleader, that is." she prompts, and then of course makes a face at his not being able to imagine being an apprentice. "I love the craft. But enjoying the apprenticeship isn't something I can imagine anyone my age would appreciate."
For once, K'del seems honest, /genuinely/ amused - he even laughs. "Not a /lot/ of time," he allows. "But some. I'd like that." The promise, evidently: he's nodding enthusiastically. "I can do that. All those little details... you can ask me as many questions as Iolene has. But hopefully less awkward ones." He looks rueful again, for that admission, but breaks it off in order to smile. "No, I guess not. I had the whole Weyrleader when people my age were still Apprentices thing, and that was hard. But being the most junior apprentice when other people are closer to Journeyman..." He breaks off. "At least if you come back as a rider, you're coming from a different perspective. Seems like, anyway."
"Iolene has much less of a filter, then I do. Although I guess, well... Nevermind." Choosing not to pursue that line of thought, Emme just waves it aside. "Hopefully I'll catch you around, then. It'd be nice to get to know more people without all the stuff that comes along with my background." Seeming pleased with this development, there's first a nod. "Yes. Thanks for the reminder about my most minimal status." the girl murmurs, reaching behind herself to squeeze the back of her neck lightly and relieve the knot of tension there. "It /is/ awkward. And it would be real nice to come at it from a different perspective. We'll see, I guess." She's apparently not one to get her hopes up overly much at this point, but her expression is at least appreciative. "I've probably taken up enough of your time though. One more problem solved, at least."
K'del seems to agree with Emmeline's assessment of Iolene; he looks, briefly, amused. "I'd like it, too," he confirms, giving his book a glance before his gaze returns to Emmeline. "Sorry-- I didn't mean that. Still. Maybe there'll be a dragon for you. Congratulations, by the way." That seems genuine - even warm. "I'll see you around, Candidate Emmeline. Have a good night. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more use about the ban."
Now, at least, Emmeline can laugh. "I know you didn't mean it that way. It's just something I'm acutely aware of." she assures. "And I can at least spread the word that if everyone is patient, and nothing else bad happens, we may eventually be allowed back in small groups or with an escort. Then, I will blame you for distracting me with talk of Search. I can work with that. And, thank you." Responding with equal warmth, she offers another brief smile before heading back out the door.