The eight of holds.
Who: Zoma and Aivey
Where: In the rain.
When: 11:20 on day 26, month 12, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
What: Aivey runs into Zoma again. Zoma hasn't the sense to get in out of the rain.
12/19/2006
On the exiles' island, it is 11:20 on day 26, month 12, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
Pre-noon. It's a time when most people are finishing up their morning chores and preparing for lunch. Most people are doing that somewhere else. Zoma rarely, honestly, has chores to do. She wins free time at cards, she trades and then trades again. When she has them she does them and does them well. But. . .well, she'd rather not /have/ them. Today she's got her morning free at least. So she lounges out of the way near the cave where the residents of the island sleep. There's a small overhang, but she doesn't actually sit under it. Where's the fun in that? Instead she sits on a rock near it, staring off at nothing.
Aivey has no such luck with cards. It's a wonder why. So she's been busy this morning. Busy enough that she is covered in equal parts sweat and mud, though looks remarkably placid as she tromps down the path leading to the resident cave. Long before she actually gets to the other woman, Aivey spots Zoma though keeps on heading in that direction. And when she gets there? A switch of her eyes over the woman's face that might appear jerky before, "How're you, Zoma?"
Zoma's face is wet, like the rest of her. Drowned rat comes to mind, with normally frizzy hair plastered down. Her card pouch cannot be seen, but it's somewhere close by. In the rain those who've been here longer will know she takes often to sitting on it to protect it. The bruise on her face is still visible, as rain slicked as the rest of her skin. "Wet," she answers cheerfully. "It's the rainy season." Surprise in those words. All at once, as if never experienced there is rain. How lovely.
Aivey's eyes occasionally switch to the bruise, acknowledging that she has at least seen it. Mud covered as she is, her matching one isn't all that hard to spot. With her hair tied back and tightly braided and the lack of mud, there's nothing to prevent it from being seen and no attempt at hiding it. "Is it now," Surprised as well, Aivey breaks her study of Zoma to look up at the rain, "Never would've figured it." Then it's right back to watching the woman.
"Hard to tell at first. You get used to one thing and then it's something entirely new." Zoma states this as if it's something she only concluded after long hours of contemplation. "Good to tell the new people. How the rain is so they know, right? Otherwise they have no idea what to expect. Other than the mud. And the rain. Thunder sometimes. Storms at night." Annoyance creeps into her tone at this last bit, her expression switching from unreadable but cheery to bothered by something and then back. "Don't want him, you know. Got no use for dead things."
"Helpful knowledge, that's for sure," Aivey replies with a nod, "The rain. The storms. All that good information." Zoma's abrupt switch is met in stride as Aivey moves to step under the over hang and to lean against the wall supporting it, "People rarely have use for anything dead," Aivey agrees, "What do you have use for, Zoma?"
Zoma smiles and pats the rock between her legs. "Got my cards. Ain't got no need for anything else anyway. Got no use for most things. You use what you need to get by is all. Rest of it can rot and that's for sure. Rain makes it hard to dig. Dig well anyway. Holes fill in. Doesn't matter. They're still there. People fall in em anyway. Even when they ain't looking for them." Head tipping to the side she smiles brightly. "Got no use for boring."
"Had cards back at the 'Reaches," Aivey tells Zoma again, "Full deck. Nice deck, the kind a girl would want to keep around. I'll show them to you some day," A smile there, as though it were the most friendly offer ever and a complete glancing over of all things hole and sinking related, "Definitely not boring, those cards."
"Had a full deck." Wistful now, staring off at nothing at all as she remembers. "Had em all. Did what I had to when I had to so I could keep them. Whatever it took." Zoma lifts a hand to chew on her thumb nail, not that there's much to it. "Cards got lives. Lost ten lives. Ten. Can't help it when it happens. They go away. Time is up and they go. S'what happens to people. Time is up and they go away. Or someone takes it. Love to see em. Your cards. Ain't mine though. Don't mean anything."
"Nothing wrong with doing all you can to keep what's yours," Aivey agrees with a small cant of her head. Droplets of water roll off the tip of her nose, speckling on the stone before her, "The cards though, they weren't mine to begin with. They are now, but I've got no use for cards myself, never found them much fun." She offers another smile, light and fleeting before she says, "You could have them. If you want them."
Shaking her head, rain from her body joining the rain from the sky, Zoma frowns. "Ain't mine. Don't take what's not yours. Cards don't belong to anyone. They stay cause they want to. Treat em like you own em and they go away. It's how you lose em. Don't own em. Can't own em. Got their own." She pauses here and looks over at Aivey, head shaking. "They got their own. Ain't yours and never were. Can't give away what's not yours."
"That may be," Aivey says, "But cards are cards." Lifting her head and looking back out across the settlement, Aivey adds, "How'd you get your cards, Zoma?"
"Nope. Not true. Cards ain't cards." Zoma is adamant on this point, punctuating it by slapping her thigh after every word. Cards. Slap. Ain't. Slap. Cards. Slap. Point made she nods her head once, firm. "Ain't what it is at all. They're different. Mine? Gift from my dad. Not long before I was sent here. Present. For me. I got them. I kept them. No matter what I kept them safe. Then I was here and they were lost."
"Card's aren't cards," Aivey repeats after a moment, as though reminded of that fact. She turns to look back at Zoma, studying her for another long moment before asking, "You think there's a reason you lost them, Zoma? Think they're trying to tell you something?"
Head tipped over so her ear can rub on her shoulder, Zoma looks at Aivey the way someone might observe a creature that just sprouted a second head. "Cards can't talk, Aivey. They're whatsis. Not alive. Things." Silly Aivey her tone implies.
"You should listen," Aivey continues, second head and all, "To those cards of yours. Might be a reason to why you keep loosing them." She pushes away from the wall under the overhang, but keeps looking at Zoma, "How many do you have now?"
"Don't talk. Don't. Don't hear em. They don't talk." Adamant about this as well, almost fearfully so. Her eyes dart around as if worried someone might overhear. "Hear nothing. Ain't listening. Don't talk." Her head shakes as Zoma pulls her knees up to her chest. "Lost ten. Got forty-two left. Lost ten. Was nine. Then I lost ten. Plenty left for a game."
"'course not," Aivey soothes, "You keep an eye on them, Zoma, don't want you losing any more. Ten is enough." The hesitation ends; Aivey moves out from under the over hang and steps back to the path to continue on her way, but she's still in proximity to Zoma so she also says, "--you remember what that tenth card was?"
"Eight. Was eight. Holds. Lost it. Went away." Zoma wipes her hand across her face to remove some of the rain from it. Not that it helps. Or matters. It wipes off all traces of anything but cheer as well. She sits up straighter and laughs gleefully. "Lose em. Lose em all the time. Ten in that may years, yea? Lose em. You lose things. Circling the table, Aivey. Can't do it. Can't be kept out. You'll be in too. Losin' already, but doesn't matter. Lose a lot more. Everyone loses, can't stay out."
"Rain," Aivey says, as randomly as the whole conversation appears to be, "Gotta be the wet season," She tips her head back toward Zoma, her eyes now lingering on the other woman's, "Keep those cards dry." Then it's on through the rain and into the resident cave.
"Til it's not." Zoma nods her head at these words of wisdom. Sliding from her rock she grabs up her pouch of cards and holds them close to her chest as she heads off for the trees.
Where: In the rain.
When: 11:20 on day 26, month 12, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
What: Aivey runs into Zoma again. Zoma hasn't the sense to get in out of the rain.
12/19/2006
On the exiles' island, it is 11:20 on day 26, month 12, turn 2 of the 7th Pass.
Pre-noon. It's a time when most people are finishing up their morning chores and preparing for lunch. Most people are doing that somewhere else. Zoma rarely, honestly, has chores to do. She wins free time at cards, she trades and then trades again. When she has them she does them and does them well. But. . .well, she'd rather not /have/ them. Today she's got her morning free at least. So she lounges out of the way near the cave where the residents of the island sleep. There's a small overhang, but she doesn't actually sit under it. Where's the fun in that? Instead she sits on a rock near it, staring off at nothing.
Aivey has no such luck with cards. It's a wonder why. So she's been busy this morning. Busy enough that she is covered in equal parts sweat and mud, though looks remarkably placid as she tromps down the path leading to the resident cave. Long before she actually gets to the other woman, Aivey spots Zoma though keeps on heading in that direction. And when she gets there? A switch of her eyes over the woman's face that might appear jerky before, "How're you, Zoma?"
Zoma's face is wet, like the rest of her. Drowned rat comes to mind, with normally frizzy hair plastered down. Her card pouch cannot be seen, but it's somewhere close by. In the rain those who've been here longer will know she takes often to sitting on it to protect it. The bruise on her face is still visible, as rain slicked as the rest of her skin. "Wet," she answers cheerfully. "It's the rainy season." Surprise in those words. All at once, as if never experienced there is rain. How lovely.
Aivey's eyes occasionally switch to the bruise, acknowledging that she has at least seen it. Mud covered as she is, her matching one isn't all that hard to spot. With her hair tied back and tightly braided and the lack of mud, there's nothing to prevent it from being seen and no attempt at hiding it. "Is it now," Surprised as well, Aivey breaks her study of Zoma to look up at the rain, "Never would've figured it." Then it's right back to watching the woman.
"Hard to tell at first. You get used to one thing and then it's something entirely new." Zoma states this as if it's something she only concluded after long hours of contemplation. "Good to tell the new people. How the rain is so they know, right? Otherwise they have no idea what to expect. Other than the mud. And the rain. Thunder sometimes. Storms at night." Annoyance creeps into her tone at this last bit, her expression switching from unreadable but cheery to bothered by something and then back. "Don't want him, you know. Got no use for dead things."
"Helpful knowledge, that's for sure," Aivey replies with a nod, "The rain. The storms. All that good information." Zoma's abrupt switch is met in stride as Aivey moves to step under the over hang and to lean against the wall supporting it, "People rarely have use for anything dead," Aivey agrees, "What do you have use for, Zoma?"
Zoma smiles and pats the rock between her legs. "Got my cards. Ain't got no need for anything else anyway. Got no use for most things. You use what you need to get by is all. Rest of it can rot and that's for sure. Rain makes it hard to dig. Dig well anyway. Holes fill in. Doesn't matter. They're still there. People fall in em anyway. Even when they ain't looking for them." Head tipping to the side she smiles brightly. "Got no use for boring."
"Had cards back at the 'Reaches," Aivey tells Zoma again, "Full deck. Nice deck, the kind a girl would want to keep around. I'll show them to you some day," A smile there, as though it were the most friendly offer ever and a complete glancing over of all things hole and sinking related, "Definitely not boring, those cards."
"Had a full deck." Wistful now, staring off at nothing at all as she remembers. "Had em all. Did what I had to when I had to so I could keep them. Whatever it took." Zoma lifts a hand to chew on her thumb nail, not that there's much to it. "Cards got lives. Lost ten lives. Ten. Can't help it when it happens. They go away. Time is up and they go. S'what happens to people. Time is up and they go away. Or someone takes it. Love to see em. Your cards. Ain't mine though. Don't mean anything."
"Nothing wrong with doing all you can to keep what's yours," Aivey agrees with a small cant of her head. Droplets of water roll off the tip of her nose, speckling on the stone before her, "The cards though, they weren't mine to begin with. They are now, but I've got no use for cards myself, never found them much fun." She offers another smile, light and fleeting before she says, "You could have them. If you want them."
Shaking her head, rain from her body joining the rain from the sky, Zoma frowns. "Ain't mine. Don't take what's not yours. Cards don't belong to anyone. They stay cause they want to. Treat em like you own em and they go away. It's how you lose em. Don't own em. Can't own em. Got their own." She pauses here and looks over at Aivey, head shaking. "They got their own. Ain't yours and never were. Can't give away what's not yours."
"That may be," Aivey says, "But cards are cards." Lifting her head and looking back out across the settlement, Aivey adds, "How'd you get your cards, Zoma?"
"Nope. Not true. Cards ain't cards." Zoma is adamant on this point, punctuating it by slapping her thigh after every word. Cards. Slap. Ain't. Slap. Cards. Slap. Point made she nods her head once, firm. "Ain't what it is at all. They're different. Mine? Gift from my dad. Not long before I was sent here. Present. For me. I got them. I kept them. No matter what I kept them safe. Then I was here and they were lost."
"Card's aren't cards," Aivey repeats after a moment, as though reminded of that fact. She turns to look back at Zoma, studying her for another long moment before asking, "You think there's a reason you lost them, Zoma? Think they're trying to tell you something?"
Head tipped over so her ear can rub on her shoulder, Zoma looks at Aivey the way someone might observe a creature that just sprouted a second head. "Cards can't talk, Aivey. They're whatsis. Not alive. Things." Silly Aivey her tone implies.
"You should listen," Aivey continues, second head and all, "To those cards of yours. Might be a reason to why you keep loosing them." She pushes away from the wall under the overhang, but keeps looking at Zoma, "How many do you have now?"
"Don't talk. Don't. Don't hear em. They don't talk." Adamant about this as well, almost fearfully so. Her eyes dart around as if worried someone might overhear. "Hear nothing. Ain't listening. Don't talk." Her head shakes as Zoma pulls her knees up to her chest. "Lost ten. Got forty-two left. Lost ten. Was nine. Then I lost ten. Plenty left for a game."
"'course not," Aivey soothes, "You keep an eye on them, Zoma, don't want you losing any more. Ten is enough." The hesitation ends; Aivey moves out from under the over hang and steps back to the path to continue on her way, but she's still in proximity to Zoma so she also says, "--you remember what that tenth card was?"
"Eight. Was eight. Holds. Lost it. Went away." Zoma wipes her hand across her face to remove some of the rain from it. Not that it helps. Or matters. It wipes off all traces of anything but cheer as well. She sits up straighter and laughs gleefully. "Lose em. Lose em all the time. Ten in that may years, yea? Lose em. You lose things. Circling the table, Aivey. Can't do it. Can't be kept out. You'll be in too. Losin' already, but doesn't matter. Lose a lot more. Everyone loses, can't stay out."
"Rain," Aivey says, as randomly as the whole conversation appears to be, "Gotta be the wet season," She tips her head back toward Zoma, her eyes now lingering on the other woman's, "Keep those cards dry." Then it's on through the rain and into the resident cave.
"Til it's not." Zoma nods her head at these words of wisdom. Sliding from her rock she grabs up her pouch of cards and holds them close to her chest as she heads off for the trees.