Jailbreak!
Location: Old Storeroom, Dragon Baths, and Beyond!
Time: Later evening on Day 23, Month 6, Turn 2 (HRW time)
Player: Roa, Ashwin, Jensen, J'lor, Tialith, Vellath, Riann (NPC)
Scene: As excitement unfolds at the Reaches Spring Party (a little before Yevide's final curtain), Jensen is sprung and flung somewhere "safe".
It's a dark little room indeed Jensen's found himself in for the past couple of days. The only light is that which casts off from a small glowbasket on the floor. He hasn't had a bath since being locked up, is looking pretty scruffy. His leg is tethered to the wall much the same as Ashwin's was, though his rope seems much shorter, and his wrists have been shackled together. That last detail is probably a little unnecessary, considering he isn't doing anything but sitting in the corner with his head tilted back against the wall, but then again there are some men who are taking this opportunity to get back at the Captain for all the trouble they've gotten since coming here. In this manner he waits for what everyone knows is coming.
The thick door muffles nearly all sound, but there's a conversation going on outside. It continues for some time in quiet murmurs before the door opens. It wasn't locked when Ashwin was inside, either. It only opens from the outside, so the effort was hardly necessary. Nevertheless, someone's decided to now, so there's the sound of the key to warn Jensen that someone's coming. Then the door's opening, and the brighter light from outside might be blinding for a moment as someone slips inside. The tall figure turns to wedge something in the door to stop it closing completely, and then turns back towards the Captain. By the light of the single glow, Ashwin's features are visible. He's got a big bag in one hand and the keys in the other. "Sir."
Jensen's head tilts when he hears those murmurs. Another visitor, perhaps? Well, he'll start getting together his big gruff mean murderer voice. He's had to say lots of mean things to some of his best friends, all in the name of convincing. His eyes squint up when the door opens, that light a bright and blinding shine indeed, and is still trying to not see spots when it closes again. Sir? He dons a grin, lopsided. He doesn't have to pretend with Ashwin. "Captain," he returns, looking every bit as confident as ever. But then, he's gotten very good at pretending. Eyes flick to the bag then. The big, lumpy bag. His grin grows. "What took you so long?"
"It's 'Lieutenant'," Ashwin points out politely, dumping the bag on the floor, and walking over to crouch beside the other man. His head's down, and he reaches for the shackles that bind the Captain's wrists, lifting them so he can slot the key in. They're unfastened, but it's left to Jensen to pull them off as Ashwin leans down to the fastening at his ankle. "Took an awful long time to pack up your things, sir. Knew you wouldn't want to leave any of your frills behind."
"Actually it's 'Captain'," Jen replies easily, watching in a detached manner as his restraints are undone. How quickly does he take those shackles off? Very quickly. Damn things. He rubs his wrists, red and sore from being rubbed at so constantly, and grins again. "Got my dresses then? Good man." Pause. "What're we doin'?" In other words? Report.
There's a brief glance up from Ashwin that's as close as he comes to insubordination on this matter, tossing aside Jensen's ankle restraint and rising to his feet once more. "Nothing good, sir. Roa's got us a ride out, and a safe place to hide until we can lift our heads again." Picking up his bag, he begins rummaging through it, and setting an assortment of things on the ground beside Jensen. All of them are designed for hurting people with, and they're the Captain's own. "Meeting her now."
Jensen doesn't go further on the matter of rank since Ashwin doesn't press it. However, he does remark on that brief glance. "Ah, there's the sass. You always could pout better'n a girl." Still grinning, almost nonstop now really, he sits up and watches as those weapons are pulled out one by one. Oh, he recognizes those. He grabs his knife, the big long one he's so accustomed to carrying, and searches for the belt it usually hangs from. Ah, there it is. He grabs it, starts fastening. "You get the-" There's that grin again when several smaller sharp things make an appearance. "Shiny. Where's she takin' us?" He stands, wincing. Sleepy legs.
"Thank you, sir." That's Ashwin at his driest, adjusting his own belt as he stands from setting down the last of them - he's got a few extra bits and pieces strapped about his own person. There's a pause, though, before he names their destination. "Island, sir." A beat. "Where they sent her father." So much information in those few words; the identity of the island, that Ashwin now, somehow, knows who Roa's father is. "We've reviewed our options, sir." In other words: this is the only one.
Island. The. Island. Jensen stops what he was doing, which was gathering up other different accouterments for the keeping of weapons on one's person, and stares long and hard at his, well... his friend, at least. "You talkin' about the /exile's/ island, Ashwin?" Yes, that last note would sort of mean there isn't any other way. He clenches his jaw, thinks, then continues on with what he was doing. "Shit." Indeed.
"That's what I said, sir," Ashwin agrees. "No other place to keep our heads down, while 'fall's out there and our pictures are going around." Two steps back take him across the small room to the door, and he leans backwards to press an eye to the small, open crack. "Don't worry, sir, it gets better." No, really, wait for it. "Taking the baby with the sideburns along."
Baby with sideburns... "/Riann/?" Jensen stops again to stare. He's making good progress. "Woah, woah, now, hold up. We're goin' to an island full o'murderers with a baby?" He looks down at the remaining weapons. "/Shit/." He was going to stop at what he had, which includes a leather thing around his shoulder from which hangs another knife tucked up under his arm. Now? He's packing it in. Clink, clink. "Shit, shit. /Shit/."
"If you've got something to convince the weyrwoman otherwise, sir, be glad to hear it. She can get stubborn." He's easing the door open now, and he pokes his head outside for a moment to scan the corridor before pulling it back in. "Party on tonight, shouldn't be too hard. Anything you need, sir?" Apart from lots of things to stick people with?
"Roa?" Jen pauses, eyes on a high-up spot on the wall, and thinks. Ways to deal with Roa... "She wasn't a girl, this'd be an easy situation. Her bein' all female'n all, though..." He can't exactly punch her into unconsciousness. Damn it. "Party? Celebratin', are they? Perfect. Get everyone in one spot so they can get picked off all nice'n easy like." Disapproval is obvious in his voice. "Used t'be I woulda welcomed a shindig, like that Turn's End thing. Damn. No. Let's just get outta here." There aren't any of those weapons left, and he's practically bristling with glint as he joins Ashwin by the door.
"Need her awake to steer the dragon, sir," Ashwin points out blandly. He slips a hand around the door, and pulls it open. Light streams into the room, and he turns his head to look at the man beside him. His, well... his friend, at least. Just for a moment, there's a glint there, and the flash of a quick, wolfish, and completely uncharacteristic grin. "Let's go, sir."
In the Dragon Baths...
It's not too unreasonable an hour. Nighttime, late evening yes, but not *too* late. An hour when someone might be scrubbing down their dragon before heading off to bed a bit early. Except with the celebration going on, most people have better things to do, so there is only a single, solitary figure that reclines near the water. Tialith, though she is, at the moment, recognizable by her shape more than her markings. The queen is...dusty, perhaps. Her hide covered in a mixture of bowl dust and dampness that, while it doesn't exactly hide her color, steals the shine from her skin. There will be no reflective glow in the moonlight, and she is of a size that, a shadow in the sky, might be confused for a large bronze without the telltale color shining through. It is quiet here, otherwise. No one else appears present. There's the soft sound of water gurgling as the queen reclines, silent and still, glowing eyes fixed on the doorway.
If they weren't so practiced, the two men would just about clink when they walk. Ashwin's got only his two usual knives, plus one significantly larger attached to his belt, but his clothes sit slightly differently - he's got a world of weaponry packed away inside, somehow. So he's silent when he appears at the entrance to the baths, only a step in front of his Captain. Should Roa fail to spot him by the light of Tialith's gaze, she'll hear him softly clear his throat, then begin to make his way around towards the pair.
Jensen follows, because he really has to. And yes, he does so silently. No doubt there's a similar arsenal packed in under whatever layers he managed on his way here. Thank Faranth for Ashwin bringing his jacket. Pausing at the entrance to the baths and glancing once down the hall they just came through, he assures himself they're still alone as far as nobody following them goes, then continues on after the other man.
For a moment there is just quiet and rather intent scrutiny from the queen. Even Ashwin gets the full brunt of it tonight. And then a message is sent, perhaps, because there is a faint noise from the back of the cavern where the shadows fall deepest, and a small shape that wasn't there before is there now, moving forward. Roa, garbed in riding leathers, is moving quickly towards her lifemate and the two guards, a blanketed bundle cradled in one arm, riding straps with bags already attached draped over her other shoulder and dragging behind her as she walks.
Ashwin pauses as Roa emerges, then alters course to walk over to meet her. There's something tense in his posture - a quick glance back for Jensen, then another for Tialith. But it's her rider he's focussed on. He doesn't greet her until he's close enough to use just a low voice, and even then it's only a few words. "Hey. Let me take the straps." It's a familiar greeting, perhaps more so than it might be, and he's already reaching out to relieve her of her burden before she has a chance to agree.
Jensen is a quick one. It doesn't take him long at all to look Roa over when she comes into view and see that little bundle. Oh, jays. He stops, allowing Ashwin to step forward, and watches those two with a casual sort of detachment. If he were just a little less stressed and nervous he'd ask questions. Or something. But he is stressed and nervous, so he doesn't. "Weyrwoman," is his greeting, only loud enough to be heard.
Roa's attention first snaps to the Lieutenant. Ex-Lieutenant. Captain. Ashwin. Probably just because he's coming towards her, right? At those few soft words she rolls her shoulder so the straps slide down to her hand and can be lifted, offered up, handed off. "If you've seen me doing it often enough you think you can, start getting them set on her. She'll let you." The Telgari's attention seems, for a moment, caught on his face, but then... "Weyrwoman." Oh. He's mad. Roa's arm, now free of straps, moves to support that other bundle as she starts heading over towards the second man present. "Jen," she says, offering nickname in exchange for title. "I want you to understand, this has nothing to do with before. This is me not knowing what else to do. I am aware of how idiotic it is." Bundle is shifted, and offered up to the Captain. She's sleeping.
Ashwin takes hold of the straps, manhandling them over to Tialith without a backward glance. He's already had his turn at telling Jensen about their little bundle of joy - Guess what, boss? We're parents! - and he's not voluntarily involving himself a second time. So, with a murmured greeting for Tialith, he sets about getting her straps on. He's not as skilled as Roa, but he manages.
Jensen just stands there, watching Roa come closer with a very blank look on his face and trying not to pay attention to Ashwin trying to put a dragon's straps on there in the background. Oh yes, he's mad. He lifts his chin when she stops and starts talking, a twitch happening in his jaw. A telltale sign. "Well, good you know. Saves me time tellin' you." Oh look, there's Riann. The baby he's going to be taking with him. To an island of terrible people. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, meets the goldrider's eyes very directly, and reaches to take the sleeping baby from her. She's nestled carefully into the crook of his arm, her head supported just so. Such a strange sight, a man bulging with all that weaponry holding such a small and fragile thing. He looks into that little face, then focuses on Roa again. "Penny's gonna need lookin' after. Asked Vej to, when he was guardin' my door. She's gonna need someone who knows though." He doesn't elaborate on what the weyrwoman is going to need to know, simply looks her in the eye and uses that Captain face.
Tialith is quite obliging, head lowering and shoulders rolling at the appropriate times to make Ashwin's task easier. There's even a faint rumble and a twitch of muscles if straps are set too low or high. A general willingness to guide him in the task that, really, he shouldn't so much be doing.
"I'll be there for her," is Roa's quiet reply about Penny. "You know I will." But her eyes fall to that bundle and even though he hasn't asked, she feels compelled to answer. "There were...I heard something in the kitchens this morning. About her. Not breathing for so much longer. So." A small pause to swallow. "R'vain'll put out that she's gone into foster tomorrow."
Ashwin isn't listening. You just watch how he's not. Quiet, stoic, he's running his usual routine and if there's more strength than skill involved in getting Tialith's straps on, in the end it's done. He steps back, fingers coming up to curl around the hilts of his knives, to inspect his work. Sure as shells, he's not inspecting the pair over his shoulder.
"Good. Made 'er promise she wouldn't just let 'erself go 'cause o'this. She's got a plan, she needs t'stick with it. She starts slippin' in classes, you keep her head above water. We clear?" Jensen presses his mouth into a thin line. Not happy. "Yeah, well. Don't make me any more jolly 'bout bringin' her to that place." He stops, though. His frustration is finding a poor vent here. "Thanks for goin' through the trouble. Captain." And he tilts his head to look past Roa at Ashwin. "We 'bout ready back there?"
Maybe she deserves it. Maybe not. Regardless, Roa takes it and only responds with a single nod. Oh wait. Maybe she doesn't take it after all. "Not too jolly about sending anyone there, thanks. But since you decided on your brilliant course of action, options became limited." And then *she's* turning away and striding stiffly over to the gold to quickly check the straps. One is tightened a bit, another adjusted a bit, but all she says, still staring at her hands on the leather is, "You did good. Thank you."
"Yessir." If Ashwin ignores the rank his Captain keeps trying to pin on him, perhaps it will go away. It's certainly worth a shot, and he's giving it one. "Ready." One hand comes up to rake through his shaggy hair - nervous energy finds an outlet for a moment, then he's looking over to Roa, and moving forward to rest one hand on Tialith's straps. "Let's just get gone."
"Yeah, well. We're all doin' what needs doin'." Yes, Jensen has to have the last word. Or try to have the last word, anyway. He looks down once again at Riann, uses his free hand to tuck her blanket in a bit more securely, and starts making his way towards Tialith. "I second that. We're gonna be meetin' up against any sticky predicaments I'd rather it be now when I got a baby."
Another nod from the little weyrwoman and, oh, huh. Both her hands and one of Ashwin's are currently on the riding straps. So, it's probably just distraction that has Roa's fingertips brushing the back of Ashwin's knuckles as she reaches higher and begins scrambling up onto Tialith's neck. She snaps herself in quickly and then waits for the boys to hurry up and do the same. Tialith's eyes have begun spinning a bit faster, a quiet tension building in her muscles.
There's just a moment's pause - lifting one foot off the ground and then the other is such a final thing, when a man knows the next time he sets them down will be in the sand. But after that pause, Ashwin does it. Like all Roa's detail, he's grown more adept, and he reaches for his straps as he settles, buckling himself in in silence. What's to say?
Jensen has a little living person to keep secure while he mounts up, so his is a slower progression. One-handed dragon-climbing. Good times. Eventually, and really he didn't do all that bad a job, though he hardly looked graceful, he settles in, buckles himself up. To Ashwin he murmurs, "We run into some trouble I'm gonna need you t'be on your guard 'til I can find somewhere safe t'put her." Just so he knows.
In a single fluid motion Tialith stands and begins walking out of the baths and into the bowl. She crouches, tendons and sinew gathering for a launch and Roa calls out a single warning, "When we between, you won't be able to feel her. She'll be there, though." and then dust-dulled wings snap open and they're leaping through the air, wind stealing the ability to speak as the dragon climbs upwards...upwards...into the sky and then gone. Between.
Ashwin has time to mutter a, "Yessir," to Jensen before they're moving, but no more. Evidently he's had some practice at this, for there's no sign of tension across his shoulders as they emerge into the black of between into the warmer black of the Western night. He simply reaches down to wrap one hand around his straps, bracing in preparation for Tialith to wheel around and begin her descent.
Much less experienced with this whole Between business, Jensen is looking a little shaken when they emerge. Warm air or no, he's not gonna forget that nothingness. With his hand tightly wrapped around the straps, he glances down at Riann once. Still asleep. Well that's good.
And there's that dip and circle. They're over an island all right, though this one has no signs of life. Or thread protection, judging by the random barren patches scattered throughout. Never the less, this is where the gold angles and so this is where they land, with a thump, into the shoreline, talons digging into the sand. Roa's fingers are going to her straps, but they're shaking now. Buckles are dropped several times before she's loose and sliding down as well.
Silence from Ashwin - still, what's to say? He unbuckles himself, he slides down Tialith's flank to thump into the sand, and then he turns to begin unfastening the parcels attacked to her harness.
Jensen follows suit in silence. It's harder going down than it was going up, but he manages and, a beat after Ashwin, has landed in the sand below. He casts a glance up at Tialith, tips his head in a nod of thanks - doesn't matter if she can see or not - and turns to survey their new surroundings. His forehead's already shiny. He takes note of those parcels, asks, "What's all this?"
"Drop point," murmurs Roa, hands staying curled around the straps, the backs of her hands pressed up against the gold's hide. Tialith stands stiffly, rumbling faintly. "Old one. I'll have Tia call, when we go. Someone will come for you. Those..." and she jerks her head towards the trio of parcels Ashwin's unloading. "Are things." Yeah. "Darkest one's for her. Baby stuff. Clothes and things. I don't know. R'vain got it together. Or. Had someone get it together. I don't know. The rest is medical supplies. Basics. In case...I don't know what they have. I..." she's unraveling and she knows it. Roa swallows once, staring at one of the large sacks. "Jen. There's a pouch with a red ribbon tied around the neck. That's yours."
Ashwin is silently untying the sacks and hauling them down, lifting one hand to rest it against Tialith's hide in silence for a moment. His own thank you, perhaps. then he hefts all three, and turns towards the others, extending the darkest towards Jensen. "Sir." He's got not a glance sideways for Roa, and so far, not a word. Take care of her.
Tialith> To Ashwin: You peeked. Bemusement that crests and then fades to solemnity. Of course.
"Drop point," Jen echoes, rather dubiously it must be said. "Great." He's happy. Really. "Things?" His eyebrows lift, a silent request for clarification, and when he gets it, that last detail especially is of some interest, he heaves a sigh. Baby stuff, medical supplies, and something for him. He reaches over to take what Ashwin's passing him, tests its weight. Hm. "Okay." Pause. "So." This is certainly drawing to a good end.
Roa's gaze flicks between the two men. One watching her. The other not at all. Her hand reaches into a jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled and silky scarf. Translucent. Blue and silver. It's held out for either of them to take. "Give this to. J'lor. When you see him." There was a brief hesitation before the name, words reconsidered. "If he doesn't know what it is, Analia will."
Ashwin simply couldn't be less helpful if he tried. His head turns to see what it is that Roa's holding out, but he makes a show of having a bundle in each hand - as though Jensen does not - and steps back to indicate that the other man should take it. "We say your name?" He clears his throat before those four words, the first he's spoken since they arrived. They're quiet, as though he does not wish to break the serenity of the evening around them.
Jensen doesn't move. He gives the scarf a bland look, glances at Ashwin. Oh look, Ashwin put himself out of the line of scarf. Giving the other man a Look, he rolls his eyes and steps forward to pinch an edge of the flowy thing in between to fingers. That's as good as he's gonna be able to take it. "Think this might be in place of a name," he murmurs, now inspecting the bit of silky material, then Roa's face. "That right?"
"That's right," Roa agrees, near a whisper. Her gaze again had settled on Ashwin, but it snaps back to Jensen now. "I'd prefer my name stays out of it, but use it if you think it will help." And now? Now she's out of excuses to stay. "I have to go. Anything else needs to be said, needs to be said now."
Ashwin nods, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He's silent in the wake of her question, then clears his throat, voice raised to a more normal conversational level - for Ashwin, at least - as he speaks. "Good luck. A turn from today. Don't forget." And, it would seem, that's all from the lieutenant.
Jensen doesn't say a thing, not at first. He simply glances over at Ashwin, a quizzical look. Turn from today, huh? It's a good thing for him that it doesn't take a genius to figure out something's going on. Instead of commenting on it right now though he simply nods once. "You take care o'things back home, we'll be alive when time comes t'call us back." He has such confidence.
There is a nod for Ashwin's words and then another for Jensen's. Then Roa's scrambling back up the dirty golden hide though she stops midway to turn. To look at each of them one last time. "Ashwin," she says loud enough that if he pretends not to hear, at least she'll know he did. "Pay attention." Then she's scrambling the rest of the way up, hitching herself into the straps, and Tialith is readying to launch once again.
Ashwin hears. His head snaps up, and for a moment he's set to drop one of his two bundles. His reflexes save him that, and he scrambles to recover it, eyes still on the weyrwoman as she mounts up. They stay glued there even as he begins to back up along the beach, lest the sand she whips up in her launch blind him.
Oh yes, that is something Jensen will have to ask about later. Again, not now. He backs up too, a little less reluctantly, and turns away from the departing gold dragon and her rider to, once again, scan the beach. He drops the bundle he'd been holding, and as if on cue Riann wakes up and starts waving tiny little fists around. Jen sighs and, very calmly, begins to remove his jacket one arm at a time, shifting the infant back and forth. He lays it down on the sand, sets her down, wraps her up in the sleeves, and then, satisfied, stalks off a goodly distance. Once he's far enough away he starts kicking up sand and generally making a lot of noise. "One place I wanna be, one fuckin' place... /Shit/! Shit, shit, shit!" At one point he even bends, grabs a handful of sand, and throws it. It isn't pretty, a grown man throwing a tantrum.
Up in the sky, the shadow of Tialith circles once and a brassy bugle sounds in the air accompanied by a mental announcement stretched wide to encompass any dragon minds near enough to hear. And then? Then, she is gone. And for the next half an hour, it is only Jensen, Ashwin, Riann and desolation.
Ashwin silently watch Tialith out of sight, and only then does he turn to observe Jensen. Head on one side for a moment, he takes in this sight, then he makes his way across the beach to plunk himself down next to Riann, pulling his knees up to his chest, looping one arm around them, and reaching out with his other hand to offer Riann a finger to catch hold of. And he watches, without any contribution.
Jensen's noise continues on for a while longer, maybe ten minutes, and then suddenly he stops, hands in his hair. He gives the sand one final kick, turns, walks back to the two he left behind. His strides are impatient, and he flops down on the sand on the opposite side of the little baby, putting her between him and his... Ashwin. His own legs bend, he crosses his arms atop his knees, and sighs. Quiet. Then, in a low voice, "Sand in my boots." Yep. Mmhm. And then it's time to wait out that half hour. Riann seems quite content during, making little baby noises and keeping a tight grip on that finger.
Ashwin is quite still, finger left in Riann's grip, eyes on where the horizon would be - as it is, it's just the place where the star-littered night turns to the intense black of the sea. Jensen's observation draws a thoughtful nod, then more silence, and then finally, "Damn." No more than that for several minutes. "Who we going to say we are, sir?"
"You think of somethin' t'call yourself if you want. I ain't gonna pass for anyone else here." Jensen's hands are wringing; don't tell him. "Plenty o'folks on this damn island t'recognize me'n likely poke me with sharp things." And that, if his tone of voice is any indication, is going to be of the no good variety of developments. He fidgets a bit more, then looks over at the other man. "You could go with Sweetums. Sorta fanciful."
It may not be notable at first, unless one of the ex-guards happens to be looking up. There is a new shadow in the sky, suddenly, circling. And even then it's just a blot of darkness where stars should be. Significantly smaller than Tialith, though of course the shape gets larger as it glides lower and lower before swooping down to land on the beach, near where the gold had touched down. Moonlight illuminates a blue hide and a long and lean figure perched atop it, fiddling with straps. Glowing draconic eyes have found the three waiting refugees and they blink more often than they need to.
"Should have worn my other shirt if I was going to try that," Ashwin observes, deadpan. "What'll we tell 'em happened? Brawl gone bad?" There's not much time to answer that question, for as the dragon swoops in lower, he's registering its presence. "I'll be needing this back, now." These words are for Riann, murmured ever so softly, as he reclaims his finger and comes to his feet, leaning down to pick up his two bundles once more.
"Oh yeah. Right." Other shirt. Jen smirks. Ah. It would seem their ride is here. He answers in a detached sort of voice as he watches the blue swoop in and land, watches his rider just as carefully. "Neither. Uh. Nothin'. Not at first. Just, uh... Let things progress. Take it slow." He reaches for the scarf, stuffs it into his pocket, and picks Riann up, tucking her into the crook of his arm. He makes no other moves. With a polite smile on his face he calls out, "/Hi/." And he even offers a wave. Yes.
The human shadow makes its way down the draconic one, lifting something off from the blue's riding straps. Some small, round shape that...oh. As the shield comes off, one can see that it's a little makeshift cage with glows. The pale greenish light illuminates a thin and angular face. Dark eyes. Window's peak. And when a smile spreads across the man's mouth? White teeth and a dimple in the left cheek. "Hello there!" comes a voice. A warm rolling tenor, jovial, as the figure strolls forward. He moves leisurely. As if he's just enjoying a moonlit walk and happened to come across two passersby. He stops as he arrives near the two men, holding the glows a bit higher to get a glance at them. "I must admit, we don't usually find our castaways via dragon call. Welcome, are either of you injured?" Riann has yet to be noticed.
"Yessir." Even now, Ashwin's quietly taking orders, hefting the two bundles, but remaining just where he is beside Jensen, declining to step forward ahead of his Captain. "Nosir." That, presumably, is for their discoverer. "Not injured." He's studying the man intently, eyes deliberately widened in the darkness to get the best possible view.
"No, actually, not a damn scratch, wouldn't y'know it." Jensen has a way with people. His strategy is always either to confuse them into being agreeable or just plain disarm them. Hard to tell which tactic he's using now. He too goes with the 'nothing weird or awkward is happening at all!' route. "We got dropped off. Say, you got any kind o'place for these things?" He holds Riann up in both hands, her little feet dangling, and lets her momentarily do the talking for them. She makes another little noise, blinks owlishly at J'lor. A breeze ruffles her tuft of red hair.
The little cage of glows is held out so the light can fall more directly on the man who speaks first. Tall. Rangy. Pale hair and eyes. "Good. Good. I don't much bother with 'sirs'. My name's J'lor, and that's all the title I want. Ah. And I suppose this would be the point where you reach for a large stick or somesuch and start brandishing it at me for a while. They all seem inclined to do that." His head tips downward, as if confiding a small secret to the younger man. "Bad reputation you know." But then Jensen speaks and he gets the bluerider's interest, glows swinging his way. The older man squints because there is something...face and voice...that is not completely unknown to him. But, of course, all thoughts are derailed when Riann is scooped up. "A place?" The words are a little more befuddled. "They're condemning infants now?" J'lor muses but then, "Yes. Of course. One of the families would likely be willing to look after her if you don't wish too. Elsia was the last to give birth though, and that was over two turns ago. Is she...she?" The glows tip to get a better look, "she," he repeats with more confidence, "still nursing?"
Ashwin lifts his head to assist with J'lor's inspection, waiting until it's complete before he replies. "Yes. J'lor." Apparently Jensen's the only one whose requests to use his name go unheeded. He speaks the name slowly, as if trying it out, and renews his own inspection of the bluerider's face. He breaks this off to heft his two bundles, and shake his head, just once. "No sticks, s... J'lor. Medicine." There's no return for the other man's smile from Ashwin. Just the usual serving of stoic.
In that moment in which J'lor pauses in squinting at Jensen, he lifts his chin. Oh boy. But then, all things considered, it was only a matter of time before /something/ clicked. "No, no. She ain't condemned." He glances over at Ashwin, shakes his head while grinning like an insane person. /Condemned/, really. Tucking Riann in again, he nods agreement to his companion's correction. "Medicine, yep. Figured we'd leave the whole beatin' with sticks business until we got t'know you better." Something happens to his expression, but he smoothes over the glitch before it becomes anything too noticeable. "So!" Indeed.
The glows hang in the air, swaying slightly as J'lor stills. Is simply thinking. "Medicine. Dragon calls. A baby." And now the glows do move, to lower nearer to belts full of knives. "Weapons." And up again to better reflect on the trio of faces. J'lor's own is tilted into an expression that will be familiar to both these once-guards. It is a mixture of bemused and befuddled, one eyebrow arched high, a half smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. "You aren't criminals." Politically inept? Yes. Completely and utterly clueless? Well, apparently not. "You have my name. How might I address the three of you?"
"We're good with sticks, if it helps," Ashwin offers, just as quietly and seriously as he's offered anything else so far. This is allowed to hang in the air for a moment before he presses on, with a sideways glance to Riann - or perhaps it's a cover for a glance towards Jensen, before he provides his name. "Ashwin."
Jensen looks down at himself, as if just now realizing, and only after J'lor pointed it out, that he does indeed seem to have quite a lot of weapons on his person. And so does Ashwin. And they do have a baby. He still doesn't start acting like this is some big deal or ar all out of the ordinary. He glances over at Ashwin, waits, does and says nothing when he gives his name. "Little one's Riann, and I'm Jensen." He isn't grinning anymore, and there's no trace of humor in his expression. He waits. A lot depends on what happens next.
What happens next is that the glows fall, the little cage clattering to the beach by J'lor's feet and rolling about a foot away. This happens near on the same moment Jensen gives his name, and the bluerider is quickly bending down to retrieve them, hold them high again and very intently examine this man. Jensen's older now, much more than just a child. But, "I knew your voice was familiar. Your speech pattern's very distinctive. What the shells are you doing here, boy?" It's mostly...horror and maybe a little awe in his tone. "Come to finish what you began ten turns ago?" Again, no bitterness. Just...kinda...lost.
Ashwin doesn't start when J'lor does. Instead, as the conversation is drawing on, he takes advantage of the pause while the older man recovers his lantern to set down his two bundles by his feet. The question is for Jensen to answer, and Ashwin does not usurp that prerogative. He only offers a quiet commentary, deadpan edging for only a moment towards sarcasm. It's been quite a week, after all. "The little girl is especially good with a stick. That's why we brought her."
And Jen waits for the older man to gather up his glows again, very patient. He was expecting something. It would have been nice if his name could have just gotten overlooked and he could have slipped off into a nice haze of obscurity. But no. "Got sent. Trouble back where we're from. Got sent." He heaves a breath, smirks over at Ashwin, rolls his eyes back to the bluerider. "We're here t'lie low, J'lor. I got no business otherwise. Notion is t'keep our heads down. You got a place for us?" Pause, a little flick of his attention down to Riann. "A safe place?"
The bluerider is, for a moment, somewhere else. Waxing nostalgic as he slowly shakes his head, though a glance is awarded Ashwin and a small smirk for the comment on a stick-wielding Riann. They grow up so quick these days. But what he says, looking back to Jensen is simply, "Shell, boy. You had the harpers going cross-eyed at your testimonial, trying to write it all down. I heard they got into a debate afterwards on how to spell 'uncomfortableness' and...what was it...'Healery', I think." Snrk. "Lot of good men were pulled into that mess, but you were the youngest. I remember that." But then his smile dims, fades, is gone. "Safe. Ah. That is going to be somewhat of a serious concern, I'm afraid."
Ashwin is not inexperienced in the twisting and turning backways of Jensen's vocabulary, and he doesn't bat an eyelash at these examples. Maybe there's a faint uncoiling in the tension his face shows, a tension that's been forcibly schooled thus far into his usual poker face. Something shifts slightly, only to return redoubled as J'lor continues. "The child won't be safe?" There's faint disbelief in his tone.
Jensen goes a little shifty-eyed as his vocabulary is brought into discussion. Uh. A little more awkward, please, he isn't quite buried yet. "Aheh. They could've just asked." He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Sheepish, yes. "Well, we all did what had t'be done." A pause. "All of us." He meets J'lor's eyes on that note. Yes, that includes him. When the bluerider answers with such a not-good reply Jen again looks over at Ashwin very briefly. "What's goin' on?" he wants to know.
"Frankly, no," this first J'lor says to Ashwin. "None of you will, because you're tied to Jensen. But..." the bluerider pauses to look up at the sky. "It's late, we can likely get you in and settled and not have to worry so much until tomorrow. And I'll speak to S'val and Cassiel, they're better at these sorts of things than I am. Wheeling. Subversion. It's not my strength." Then he looks to Jensen. "The island's split, and a good majority are still loyal to me. But not all, and, truthfully, if I'm anything at all, it's a figurehead." Another moment of quiet. This to clench his teeth, jaw straining before its eased away. "Derek, I'm afraid, assumed control. A little over two turns ago."
Ashwin knows the name, because he knows his history, and he's a guard, and this is the sort of thing all guards know. The further implications perhaps escape him, but his hands lift slowly to take up their customary place, curling around the two knife hilts that rest at his belt, then uncurling and resettling there once more. "She's a baby." He speaks the words as though they prove a point. She is a child. She must be safe.
"Woah." Jensen holds up a hand, just a second. He looks down, over at Ashwin again, then locks eyes with J'lor. "Derek's in charge here?" /Derek/. If ever you want to make Jen squirm, simply mention that man's name and sit back and watch. "Shit. This just gets better'n better." He shoves his fingers into his hair, closes his eyes. Not good news, apparently. "We've been dropped on an island with him in control. This don't exactly bode well." A beat later he's reaching down for his jacket, which he tries to drape over one arm, and then his bag, which he hefts. "Let's go. Take us someplace."
To Ashwin, J'lor says only, softly, "Not to him, she isn't." And then he looks back to Jensen and his squirming. "There's nowhere else. And you are better off, I think, with others around you. You're on the island chain and he'll learn of it. Wherever you settle yourselves. There's a way to hold the balance. Hold him back, to deal. Cassiel will know. We should get you settled. The night is going and I need time to speak with her before everyone wakes."
Ashwin has had a really outstanding week. He has. There's been the part where he was dismissed, and the part where he was locked up. The part where his Captain was locked up was obviously a highlight too. The farewell to a woman he's never publicly admitted he's involved with was obviously one for the album, and certainly this meeting is providing an excellent book end. He's got nothing left, but the deadpan expression he wears as he bends down to gather up his two bundles one more time, hefting them in his arms. "Take us there, then."
"Well then take us there. Get us settled. I don't wanna be out here anymore." Squirm, Jen, squirm. "And don't think this is done. I'm gonna wanna talk t'you good'n long soon as I get her settled in." He indicates Riann, who has started to get fussy in his arm, with a tilt of his head. She waves her little fists around and kicks at the blanket she's enwrapped in. "Quick." He hefts his bag.
"Ah. Well, I assure you, Jensen, you're not the only one itching for a long talk. But tomorrow. Tonight I must devote to Cassiel and only hope she doesn't pitch me out of her weyr for waking her so late." The glows bob as the once-leader returns to the blue dragon waiting patiently. "He is Vellath," J'lor says by way of introduction. Vellath makes a noise that resembles a belch more than anything else. Then the bluerider's reaching for the bags to hitch them to the dragon's straps. "I presume you lads know how to mount up? Considering your arrival."
"Yessir." Well, the first-name thing lasted well, didn't it? Ashwin hands over his burdens, tugs on his shirt to straighten it, and looks up to Vellath for a moment. "Thank you." This, it would seem, is for the dragon, not his rider. And then, he mounts up - after Tialith, Vellath doesn't present the challenge he might, and the once lieutenant hauls himself up easily enough.
Jensen follows silently. He has nothing else to say on the matter of when there will be talking. He's just going to retreat back into that little part of his brain reserved for mad-dash scrambling and stay there while his body continues to function. He holds his own bag out for strap-attachment or what have you, reaches up one-handed for the straps and lifts. Heave. Buckles are buckled, Riann, starting to become noisier, is resituated, and he's ready for takeoff.
"She's hungry, I'd expect," is J'lor's verdict of the baby's increased fussing. He settles and shields the golds, checks straps, settles himself in. "We'll try her on some starfruit mash. Nizzie was keen on it when he was tiny." Vellath, being smaller, is more jarring. Movements are felt more heavily and his leap into the air will send the inexperienced rocking forward awkwardly. Wings pump upwards at the quintet of beings sail upwards and vanish. Off to the black. Off to a new world. Off to Derek's domain.
Time: Later evening on Day 23, Month 6, Turn 2 (HRW time)
Player: Roa, Ashwin, Jensen, J'lor, Tialith, Vellath, Riann (NPC)
Scene: As excitement unfolds at the Reaches Spring Party (a little before Yevide's final curtain), Jensen is sprung and flung somewhere "safe".
It's a dark little room indeed Jensen's found himself in for the past couple of days. The only light is that which casts off from a small glowbasket on the floor. He hasn't had a bath since being locked up, is looking pretty scruffy. His leg is tethered to the wall much the same as Ashwin's was, though his rope seems much shorter, and his wrists have been shackled together. That last detail is probably a little unnecessary, considering he isn't doing anything but sitting in the corner with his head tilted back against the wall, but then again there are some men who are taking this opportunity to get back at the Captain for all the trouble they've gotten since coming here. In this manner he waits for what everyone knows is coming.
The thick door muffles nearly all sound, but there's a conversation going on outside. It continues for some time in quiet murmurs before the door opens. It wasn't locked when Ashwin was inside, either. It only opens from the outside, so the effort was hardly necessary. Nevertheless, someone's decided to now, so there's the sound of the key to warn Jensen that someone's coming. Then the door's opening, and the brighter light from outside might be blinding for a moment as someone slips inside. The tall figure turns to wedge something in the door to stop it closing completely, and then turns back towards the Captain. By the light of the single glow, Ashwin's features are visible. He's got a big bag in one hand and the keys in the other. "Sir."
Jensen's head tilts when he hears those murmurs. Another visitor, perhaps? Well, he'll start getting together his big gruff mean murderer voice. He's had to say lots of mean things to some of his best friends, all in the name of convincing. His eyes squint up when the door opens, that light a bright and blinding shine indeed, and is still trying to not see spots when it closes again. Sir? He dons a grin, lopsided. He doesn't have to pretend with Ashwin. "Captain," he returns, looking every bit as confident as ever. But then, he's gotten very good at pretending. Eyes flick to the bag then. The big, lumpy bag. His grin grows. "What took you so long?"
"It's 'Lieutenant'," Ashwin points out politely, dumping the bag on the floor, and walking over to crouch beside the other man. His head's down, and he reaches for the shackles that bind the Captain's wrists, lifting them so he can slot the key in. They're unfastened, but it's left to Jensen to pull them off as Ashwin leans down to the fastening at his ankle. "Took an awful long time to pack up your things, sir. Knew you wouldn't want to leave any of your frills behind."
"Actually it's 'Captain'," Jen replies easily, watching in a detached manner as his restraints are undone. How quickly does he take those shackles off? Very quickly. Damn things. He rubs his wrists, red and sore from being rubbed at so constantly, and grins again. "Got my dresses then? Good man." Pause. "What're we doin'?" In other words? Report.
There's a brief glance up from Ashwin that's as close as he comes to insubordination on this matter, tossing aside Jensen's ankle restraint and rising to his feet once more. "Nothing good, sir. Roa's got us a ride out, and a safe place to hide until we can lift our heads again." Picking up his bag, he begins rummaging through it, and setting an assortment of things on the ground beside Jensen. All of them are designed for hurting people with, and they're the Captain's own. "Meeting her now."
Jensen doesn't go further on the matter of rank since Ashwin doesn't press it. However, he does remark on that brief glance. "Ah, there's the sass. You always could pout better'n a girl." Still grinning, almost nonstop now really, he sits up and watches as those weapons are pulled out one by one. Oh, he recognizes those. He grabs his knife, the big long one he's so accustomed to carrying, and searches for the belt it usually hangs from. Ah, there it is. He grabs it, starts fastening. "You get the-" There's that grin again when several smaller sharp things make an appearance. "Shiny. Where's she takin' us?" He stands, wincing. Sleepy legs.
"Thank you, sir." That's Ashwin at his driest, adjusting his own belt as he stands from setting down the last of them - he's got a few extra bits and pieces strapped about his own person. There's a pause, though, before he names their destination. "Island, sir." A beat. "Where they sent her father." So much information in those few words; the identity of the island, that Ashwin now, somehow, knows who Roa's father is. "We've reviewed our options, sir." In other words: this is the only one.
Island. The. Island. Jensen stops what he was doing, which was gathering up other different accouterments for the keeping of weapons on one's person, and stares long and hard at his, well... his friend, at least. "You talkin' about the /exile's/ island, Ashwin?" Yes, that last note would sort of mean there isn't any other way. He clenches his jaw, thinks, then continues on with what he was doing. "Shit." Indeed.
"That's what I said, sir," Ashwin agrees. "No other place to keep our heads down, while 'fall's out there and our pictures are going around." Two steps back take him across the small room to the door, and he leans backwards to press an eye to the small, open crack. "Don't worry, sir, it gets better." No, really, wait for it. "Taking the baby with the sideburns along."
Baby with sideburns... "/Riann/?" Jensen stops again to stare. He's making good progress. "Woah, woah, now, hold up. We're goin' to an island full o'murderers with a baby?" He looks down at the remaining weapons. "/Shit/." He was going to stop at what he had, which includes a leather thing around his shoulder from which hangs another knife tucked up under his arm. Now? He's packing it in. Clink, clink. "Shit, shit. /Shit/."
"If you've got something to convince the weyrwoman otherwise, sir, be glad to hear it. She can get stubborn." He's easing the door open now, and he pokes his head outside for a moment to scan the corridor before pulling it back in. "Party on tonight, shouldn't be too hard. Anything you need, sir?" Apart from lots of things to stick people with?
"Roa?" Jen pauses, eyes on a high-up spot on the wall, and thinks. Ways to deal with Roa... "She wasn't a girl, this'd be an easy situation. Her bein' all female'n all, though..." He can't exactly punch her into unconsciousness. Damn it. "Party? Celebratin', are they? Perfect. Get everyone in one spot so they can get picked off all nice'n easy like." Disapproval is obvious in his voice. "Used t'be I woulda welcomed a shindig, like that Turn's End thing. Damn. No. Let's just get outta here." There aren't any of those weapons left, and he's practically bristling with glint as he joins Ashwin by the door.
"Need her awake to steer the dragon, sir," Ashwin points out blandly. He slips a hand around the door, and pulls it open. Light streams into the room, and he turns his head to look at the man beside him. His, well... his friend, at least. Just for a moment, there's a glint there, and the flash of a quick, wolfish, and completely uncharacteristic grin. "Let's go, sir."
In the Dragon Baths...
It's not too unreasonable an hour. Nighttime, late evening yes, but not *too* late. An hour when someone might be scrubbing down their dragon before heading off to bed a bit early. Except with the celebration going on, most people have better things to do, so there is only a single, solitary figure that reclines near the water. Tialith, though she is, at the moment, recognizable by her shape more than her markings. The queen is...dusty, perhaps. Her hide covered in a mixture of bowl dust and dampness that, while it doesn't exactly hide her color, steals the shine from her skin. There will be no reflective glow in the moonlight, and she is of a size that, a shadow in the sky, might be confused for a large bronze without the telltale color shining through. It is quiet here, otherwise. No one else appears present. There's the soft sound of water gurgling as the queen reclines, silent and still, glowing eyes fixed on the doorway.
If they weren't so practiced, the two men would just about clink when they walk. Ashwin's got only his two usual knives, plus one significantly larger attached to his belt, but his clothes sit slightly differently - he's got a world of weaponry packed away inside, somehow. So he's silent when he appears at the entrance to the baths, only a step in front of his Captain. Should Roa fail to spot him by the light of Tialith's gaze, she'll hear him softly clear his throat, then begin to make his way around towards the pair.
Jensen follows, because he really has to. And yes, he does so silently. No doubt there's a similar arsenal packed in under whatever layers he managed on his way here. Thank Faranth for Ashwin bringing his jacket. Pausing at the entrance to the baths and glancing once down the hall they just came through, he assures himself they're still alone as far as nobody following them goes, then continues on after the other man.
For a moment there is just quiet and rather intent scrutiny from the queen. Even Ashwin gets the full brunt of it tonight. And then a message is sent, perhaps, because there is a faint noise from the back of the cavern where the shadows fall deepest, and a small shape that wasn't there before is there now, moving forward. Roa, garbed in riding leathers, is moving quickly towards her lifemate and the two guards, a blanketed bundle cradled in one arm, riding straps with bags already attached draped over her other shoulder and dragging behind her as she walks.
Ashwin pauses as Roa emerges, then alters course to walk over to meet her. There's something tense in his posture - a quick glance back for Jensen, then another for Tialith. But it's her rider he's focussed on. He doesn't greet her until he's close enough to use just a low voice, and even then it's only a few words. "Hey. Let me take the straps." It's a familiar greeting, perhaps more so than it might be, and he's already reaching out to relieve her of her burden before she has a chance to agree.
Jensen is a quick one. It doesn't take him long at all to look Roa over when she comes into view and see that little bundle. Oh, jays. He stops, allowing Ashwin to step forward, and watches those two with a casual sort of detachment. If he were just a little less stressed and nervous he'd ask questions. Or something. But he is stressed and nervous, so he doesn't. "Weyrwoman," is his greeting, only loud enough to be heard.
Roa's attention first snaps to the Lieutenant. Ex-Lieutenant. Captain. Ashwin. Probably just because he's coming towards her, right? At those few soft words she rolls her shoulder so the straps slide down to her hand and can be lifted, offered up, handed off. "If you've seen me doing it often enough you think you can, start getting them set on her. She'll let you." The Telgari's attention seems, for a moment, caught on his face, but then... "Weyrwoman." Oh. He's mad. Roa's arm, now free of straps, moves to support that other bundle as she starts heading over towards the second man present. "Jen," she says, offering nickname in exchange for title. "I want you to understand, this has nothing to do with before. This is me not knowing what else to do. I am aware of how idiotic it is." Bundle is shifted, and offered up to the Captain. She's sleeping.
Ashwin takes hold of the straps, manhandling them over to Tialith without a backward glance. He's already had his turn at telling Jensen about their little bundle of joy - Guess what, boss? We're parents! - and he's not voluntarily involving himself a second time. So, with a murmured greeting for Tialith, he sets about getting her straps on. He's not as skilled as Roa, but he manages.
Jensen just stands there, watching Roa come closer with a very blank look on his face and trying not to pay attention to Ashwin trying to put a dragon's straps on there in the background. Oh yes, he's mad. He lifts his chin when she stops and starts talking, a twitch happening in his jaw. A telltale sign. "Well, good you know. Saves me time tellin' you." Oh look, there's Riann. The baby he's going to be taking with him. To an island of terrible people. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, meets the goldrider's eyes very directly, and reaches to take the sleeping baby from her. She's nestled carefully into the crook of his arm, her head supported just so. Such a strange sight, a man bulging with all that weaponry holding such a small and fragile thing. He looks into that little face, then focuses on Roa again. "Penny's gonna need lookin' after. Asked Vej to, when he was guardin' my door. She's gonna need someone who knows though." He doesn't elaborate on what the weyrwoman is going to need to know, simply looks her in the eye and uses that Captain face.
Tialith is quite obliging, head lowering and shoulders rolling at the appropriate times to make Ashwin's task easier. There's even a faint rumble and a twitch of muscles if straps are set too low or high. A general willingness to guide him in the task that, really, he shouldn't so much be doing.
"I'll be there for her," is Roa's quiet reply about Penny. "You know I will." But her eyes fall to that bundle and even though he hasn't asked, she feels compelled to answer. "There were...I heard something in the kitchens this morning. About her. Not breathing for so much longer. So." A small pause to swallow. "R'vain'll put out that she's gone into foster tomorrow."
Ashwin isn't listening. You just watch how he's not. Quiet, stoic, he's running his usual routine and if there's more strength than skill involved in getting Tialith's straps on, in the end it's done. He steps back, fingers coming up to curl around the hilts of his knives, to inspect his work. Sure as shells, he's not inspecting the pair over his shoulder.
"Good. Made 'er promise she wouldn't just let 'erself go 'cause o'this. She's got a plan, she needs t'stick with it. She starts slippin' in classes, you keep her head above water. We clear?" Jensen presses his mouth into a thin line. Not happy. "Yeah, well. Don't make me any more jolly 'bout bringin' her to that place." He stops, though. His frustration is finding a poor vent here. "Thanks for goin' through the trouble. Captain." And he tilts his head to look past Roa at Ashwin. "We 'bout ready back there?"
Maybe she deserves it. Maybe not. Regardless, Roa takes it and only responds with a single nod. Oh wait. Maybe she doesn't take it after all. "Not too jolly about sending anyone there, thanks. But since you decided on your brilliant course of action, options became limited." And then *she's* turning away and striding stiffly over to the gold to quickly check the straps. One is tightened a bit, another adjusted a bit, but all she says, still staring at her hands on the leather is, "You did good. Thank you."
"Yessir." If Ashwin ignores the rank his Captain keeps trying to pin on him, perhaps it will go away. It's certainly worth a shot, and he's giving it one. "Ready." One hand comes up to rake through his shaggy hair - nervous energy finds an outlet for a moment, then he's looking over to Roa, and moving forward to rest one hand on Tialith's straps. "Let's just get gone."
"Yeah, well. We're all doin' what needs doin'." Yes, Jensen has to have the last word. Or try to have the last word, anyway. He looks down once again at Riann, uses his free hand to tuck her blanket in a bit more securely, and starts making his way towards Tialith. "I second that. We're gonna be meetin' up against any sticky predicaments I'd rather it be now when I got a baby."
Another nod from the little weyrwoman and, oh, huh. Both her hands and one of Ashwin's are currently on the riding straps. So, it's probably just distraction that has Roa's fingertips brushing the back of Ashwin's knuckles as she reaches higher and begins scrambling up onto Tialith's neck. She snaps herself in quickly and then waits for the boys to hurry up and do the same. Tialith's eyes have begun spinning a bit faster, a quiet tension building in her muscles.
There's just a moment's pause - lifting one foot off the ground and then the other is such a final thing, when a man knows the next time he sets them down will be in the sand. But after that pause, Ashwin does it. Like all Roa's detail, he's grown more adept, and he reaches for his straps as he settles, buckling himself in in silence. What's to say?
Jensen has a little living person to keep secure while he mounts up, so his is a slower progression. One-handed dragon-climbing. Good times. Eventually, and really he didn't do all that bad a job, though he hardly looked graceful, he settles in, buckles himself up. To Ashwin he murmurs, "We run into some trouble I'm gonna need you t'be on your guard 'til I can find somewhere safe t'put her." Just so he knows.
In a single fluid motion Tialith stands and begins walking out of the baths and into the bowl. She crouches, tendons and sinew gathering for a launch and Roa calls out a single warning, "When we between, you won't be able to feel her. She'll be there, though." and then dust-dulled wings snap open and they're leaping through the air, wind stealing the ability to speak as the dragon climbs upwards...upwards...into the sky and then gone. Between.
Ashwin has time to mutter a, "Yessir," to Jensen before they're moving, but no more. Evidently he's had some practice at this, for there's no sign of tension across his shoulders as they emerge into the black of between into the warmer black of the Western night. He simply reaches down to wrap one hand around his straps, bracing in preparation for Tialith to wheel around and begin her descent.
Much less experienced with this whole Between business, Jensen is looking a little shaken when they emerge. Warm air or no, he's not gonna forget that nothingness. With his hand tightly wrapped around the straps, he glances down at Riann once. Still asleep. Well that's good.
And there's that dip and circle. They're over an island all right, though this one has no signs of life. Or thread protection, judging by the random barren patches scattered throughout. Never the less, this is where the gold angles and so this is where they land, with a thump, into the shoreline, talons digging into the sand. Roa's fingers are going to her straps, but they're shaking now. Buckles are dropped several times before she's loose and sliding down as well.
Silence from Ashwin - still, what's to say? He unbuckles himself, he slides down Tialith's flank to thump into the sand, and then he turns to begin unfastening the parcels attacked to her harness.
Jensen follows suit in silence. It's harder going down than it was going up, but he manages and, a beat after Ashwin, has landed in the sand below. He casts a glance up at Tialith, tips his head in a nod of thanks - doesn't matter if she can see or not - and turns to survey their new surroundings. His forehead's already shiny. He takes note of those parcels, asks, "What's all this?"
"Drop point," murmurs Roa, hands staying curled around the straps, the backs of her hands pressed up against the gold's hide. Tialith stands stiffly, rumbling faintly. "Old one. I'll have Tia call, when we go. Someone will come for you. Those..." and she jerks her head towards the trio of parcels Ashwin's unloading. "Are things." Yeah. "Darkest one's for her. Baby stuff. Clothes and things. I don't know. R'vain got it together. Or. Had someone get it together. I don't know. The rest is medical supplies. Basics. In case...I don't know what they have. I..." she's unraveling and she knows it. Roa swallows once, staring at one of the large sacks. "Jen. There's a pouch with a red ribbon tied around the neck. That's yours."
Ashwin is silently untying the sacks and hauling them down, lifting one hand to rest it against Tialith's hide in silence for a moment. His own thank you, perhaps. then he hefts all three, and turns towards the others, extending the darkest towards Jensen. "Sir." He's got not a glance sideways for Roa, and so far, not a word. Take care of her.
Tialith> To Ashwin: You peeked. Bemusement that crests and then fades to solemnity. Of course.
"Drop point," Jen echoes, rather dubiously it must be said. "Great." He's happy. Really. "Things?" His eyebrows lift, a silent request for clarification, and when he gets it, that last detail especially is of some interest, he heaves a sigh. Baby stuff, medical supplies, and something for him. He reaches over to take what Ashwin's passing him, tests its weight. Hm. "Okay." Pause. "So." This is certainly drawing to a good end.
Roa's gaze flicks between the two men. One watching her. The other not at all. Her hand reaches into a jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled and silky scarf. Translucent. Blue and silver. It's held out for either of them to take. "Give this to. J'lor. When you see him." There was a brief hesitation before the name, words reconsidered. "If he doesn't know what it is, Analia will."
Ashwin simply couldn't be less helpful if he tried. His head turns to see what it is that Roa's holding out, but he makes a show of having a bundle in each hand - as though Jensen does not - and steps back to indicate that the other man should take it. "We say your name?" He clears his throat before those four words, the first he's spoken since they arrived. They're quiet, as though he does not wish to break the serenity of the evening around them.
Jensen doesn't move. He gives the scarf a bland look, glances at Ashwin. Oh look, Ashwin put himself out of the line of scarf. Giving the other man a Look, he rolls his eyes and steps forward to pinch an edge of the flowy thing in between to fingers. That's as good as he's gonna be able to take it. "Think this might be in place of a name," he murmurs, now inspecting the bit of silky material, then Roa's face. "That right?"
"That's right," Roa agrees, near a whisper. Her gaze again had settled on Ashwin, but it snaps back to Jensen now. "I'd prefer my name stays out of it, but use it if you think it will help." And now? Now she's out of excuses to stay. "I have to go. Anything else needs to be said, needs to be said now."
Ashwin nods, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He's silent in the wake of her question, then clears his throat, voice raised to a more normal conversational level - for Ashwin, at least - as he speaks. "Good luck. A turn from today. Don't forget." And, it would seem, that's all from the lieutenant.
Jensen doesn't say a thing, not at first. He simply glances over at Ashwin, a quizzical look. Turn from today, huh? It's a good thing for him that it doesn't take a genius to figure out something's going on. Instead of commenting on it right now though he simply nods once. "You take care o'things back home, we'll be alive when time comes t'call us back." He has such confidence.
There is a nod for Ashwin's words and then another for Jensen's. Then Roa's scrambling back up the dirty golden hide though she stops midway to turn. To look at each of them one last time. "Ashwin," she says loud enough that if he pretends not to hear, at least she'll know he did. "Pay attention." Then she's scrambling the rest of the way up, hitching herself into the straps, and Tialith is readying to launch once again.
Ashwin hears. His head snaps up, and for a moment he's set to drop one of his two bundles. His reflexes save him that, and he scrambles to recover it, eyes still on the weyrwoman as she mounts up. They stay glued there even as he begins to back up along the beach, lest the sand she whips up in her launch blind him.
Oh yes, that is something Jensen will have to ask about later. Again, not now. He backs up too, a little less reluctantly, and turns away from the departing gold dragon and her rider to, once again, scan the beach. He drops the bundle he'd been holding, and as if on cue Riann wakes up and starts waving tiny little fists around. Jen sighs and, very calmly, begins to remove his jacket one arm at a time, shifting the infant back and forth. He lays it down on the sand, sets her down, wraps her up in the sleeves, and then, satisfied, stalks off a goodly distance. Once he's far enough away he starts kicking up sand and generally making a lot of noise. "One place I wanna be, one fuckin' place... /Shit/! Shit, shit, shit!" At one point he even bends, grabs a handful of sand, and throws it. It isn't pretty, a grown man throwing a tantrum.
Up in the sky, the shadow of Tialith circles once and a brassy bugle sounds in the air accompanied by a mental announcement stretched wide to encompass any dragon minds near enough to hear. And then? Then, she is gone. And for the next half an hour, it is only Jensen, Ashwin, Riann and desolation.
Ashwin silently watch Tialith out of sight, and only then does he turn to observe Jensen. Head on one side for a moment, he takes in this sight, then he makes his way across the beach to plunk himself down next to Riann, pulling his knees up to his chest, looping one arm around them, and reaching out with his other hand to offer Riann a finger to catch hold of. And he watches, without any contribution.
Jensen's noise continues on for a while longer, maybe ten minutes, and then suddenly he stops, hands in his hair. He gives the sand one final kick, turns, walks back to the two he left behind. His strides are impatient, and he flops down on the sand on the opposite side of the little baby, putting her between him and his... Ashwin. His own legs bend, he crosses his arms atop his knees, and sighs. Quiet. Then, in a low voice, "Sand in my boots." Yep. Mmhm. And then it's time to wait out that half hour. Riann seems quite content during, making little baby noises and keeping a tight grip on that finger.
Ashwin is quite still, finger left in Riann's grip, eyes on where the horizon would be - as it is, it's just the place where the star-littered night turns to the intense black of the sea. Jensen's observation draws a thoughtful nod, then more silence, and then finally, "Damn." No more than that for several minutes. "Who we going to say we are, sir?"
"You think of somethin' t'call yourself if you want. I ain't gonna pass for anyone else here." Jensen's hands are wringing; don't tell him. "Plenty o'folks on this damn island t'recognize me'n likely poke me with sharp things." And that, if his tone of voice is any indication, is going to be of the no good variety of developments. He fidgets a bit more, then looks over at the other man. "You could go with Sweetums. Sorta fanciful."
It may not be notable at first, unless one of the ex-guards happens to be looking up. There is a new shadow in the sky, suddenly, circling. And even then it's just a blot of darkness where stars should be. Significantly smaller than Tialith, though of course the shape gets larger as it glides lower and lower before swooping down to land on the beach, near where the gold had touched down. Moonlight illuminates a blue hide and a long and lean figure perched atop it, fiddling with straps. Glowing draconic eyes have found the three waiting refugees and they blink more often than they need to.
"Should have worn my other shirt if I was going to try that," Ashwin observes, deadpan. "What'll we tell 'em happened? Brawl gone bad?" There's not much time to answer that question, for as the dragon swoops in lower, he's registering its presence. "I'll be needing this back, now." These words are for Riann, murmured ever so softly, as he reclaims his finger and comes to his feet, leaning down to pick up his two bundles once more.
"Oh yeah. Right." Other shirt. Jen smirks. Ah. It would seem their ride is here. He answers in a detached sort of voice as he watches the blue swoop in and land, watches his rider just as carefully. "Neither. Uh. Nothin'. Not at first. Just, uh... Let things progress. Take it slow." He reaches for the scarf, stuffs it into his pocket, and picks Riann up, tucking her into the crook of his arm. He makes no other moves. With a polite smile on his face he calls out, "/Hi/." And he even offers a wave. Yes.
The human shadow makes its way down the draconic one, lifting something off from the blue's riding straps. Some small, round shape that...oh. As the shield comes off, one can see that it's a little makeshift cage with glows. The pale greenish light illuminates a thin and angular face. Dark eyes. Window's peak. And when a smile spreads across the man's mouth? White teeth and a dimple in the left cheek. "Hello there!" comes a voice. A warm rolling tenor, jovial, as the figure strolls forward. He moves leisurely. As if he's just enjoying a moonlit walk and happened to come across two passersby. He stops as he arrives near the two men, holding the glows a bit higher to get a glance at them. "I must admit, we don't usually find our castaways via dragon call. Welcome, are either of you injured?" Riann has yet to be noticed.
"Yessir." Even now, Ashwin's quietly taking orders, hefting the two bundles, but remaining just where he is beside Jensen, declining to step forward ahead of his Captain. "Nosir." That, presumably, is for their discoverer. "Not injured." He's studying the man intently, eyes deliberately widened in the darkness to get the best possible view.
"No, actually, not a damn scratch, wouldn't y'know it." Jensen has a way with people. His strategy is always either to confuse them into being agreeable or just plain disarm them. Hard to tell which tactic he's using now. He too goes with the 'nothing weird or awkward is happening at all!' route. "We got dropped off. Say, you got any kind o'place for these things?" He holds Riann up in both hands, her little feet dangling, and lets her momentarily do the talking for them. She makes another little noise, blinks owlishly at J'lor. A breeze ruffles her tuft of red hair.
The little cage of glows is held out so the light can fall more directly on the man who speaks first. Tall. Rangy. Pale hair and eyes. "Good. Good. I don't much bother with 'sirs'. My name's J'lor, and that's all the title I want. Ah. And I suppose this would be the point where you reach for a large stick or somesuch and start brandishing it at me for a while. They all seem inclined to do that." His head tips downward, as if confiding a small secret to the younger man. "Bad reputation you know." But then Jensen speaks and he gets the bluerider's interest, glows swinging his way. The older man squints because there is something...face and voice...that is not completely unknown to him. But, of course, all thoughts are derailed when Riann is scooped up. "A place?" The words are a little more befuddled. "They're condemning infants now?" J'lor muses but then, "Yes. Of course. One of the families would likely be willing to look after her if you don't wish too. Elsia was the last to give birth though, and that was over two turns ago. Is she...she?" The glows tip to get a better look, "she," he repeats with more confidence, "still nursing?"
Ashwin lifts his head to assist with J'lor's inspection, waiting until it's complete before he replies. "Yes. J'lor." Apparently Jensen's the only one whose requests to use his name go unheeded. He speaks the name slowly, as if trying it out, and renews his own inspection of the bluerider's face. He breaks this off to heft his two bundles, and shake his head, just once. "No sticks, s... J'lor. Medicine." There's no return for the other man's smile from Ashwin. Just the usual serving of stoic.
In that moment in which J'lor pauses in squinting at Jensen, he lifts his chin. Oh boy. But then, all things considered, it was only a matter of time before /something/ clicked. "No, no. She ain't condemned." He glances over at Ashwin, shakes his head while grinning like an insane person. /Condemned/, really. Tucking Riann in again, he nods agreement to his companion's correction. "Medicine, yep. Figured we'd leave the whole beatin' with sticks business until we got t'know you better." Something happens to his expression, but he smoothes over the glitch before it becomes anything too noticeable. "So!" Indeed.
The glows hang in the air, swaying slightly as J'lor stills. Is simply thinking. "Medicine. Dragon calls. A baby." And now the glows do move, to lower nearer to belts full of knives. "Weapons." And up again to better reflect on the trio of faces. J'lor's own is tilted into an expression that will be familiar to both these once-guards. It is a mixture of bemused and befuddled, one eyebrow arched high, a half smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. "You aren't criminals." Politically inept? Yes. Completely and utterly clueless? Well, apparently not. "You have my name. How might I address the three of you?"
"We're good with sticks, if it helps," Ashwin offers, just as quietly and seriously as he's offered anything else so far. This is allowed to hang in the air for a moment before he presses on, with a sideways glance to Riann - or perhaps it's a cover for a glance towards Jensen, before he provides his name. "Ashwin."
Jensen looks down at himself, as if just now realizing, and only after J'lor pointed it out, that he does indeed seem to have quite a lot of weapons on his person. And so does Ashwin. And they do have a baby. He still doesn't start acting like this is some big deal or ar all out of the ordinary. He glances over at Ashwin, waits, does and says nothing when he gives his name. "Little one's Riann, and I'm Jensen." He isn't grinning anymore, and there's no trace of humor in his expression. He waits. A lot depends on what happens next.
What happens next is that the glows fall, the little cage clattering to the beach by J'lor's feet and rolling about a foot away. This happens near on the same moment Jensen gives his name, and the bluerider is quickly bending down to retrieve them, hold them high again and very intently examine this man. Jensen's older now, much more than just a child. But, "I knew your voice was familiar. Your speech pattern's very distinctive. What the shells are you doing here, boy?" It's mostly...horror and maybe a little awe in his tone. "Come to finish what you began ten turns ago?" Again, no bitterness. Just...kinda...lost.
Ashwin doesn't start when J'lor does. Instead, as the conversation is drawing on, he takes advantage of the pause while the older man recovers his lantern to set down his two bundles by his feet. The question is for Jensen to answer, and Ashwin does not usurp that prerogative. He only offers a quiet commentary, deadpan edging for only a moment towards sarcasm. It's been quite a week, after all. "The little girl is especially good with a stick. That's why we brought her."
And Jen waits for the older man to gather up his glows again, very patient. He was expecting something. It would have been nice if his name could have just gotten overlooked and he could have slipped off into a nice haze of obscurity. But no. "Got sent. Trouble back where we're from. Got sent." He heaves a breath, smirks over at Ashwin, rolls his eyes back to the bluerider. "We're here t'lie low, J'lor. I got no business otherwise. Notion is t'keep our heads down. You got a place for us?" Pause, a little flick of his attention down to Riann. "A safe place?"
The bluerider is, for a moment, somewhere else. Waxing nostalgic as he slowly shakes his head, though a glance is awarded Ashwin and a small smirk for the comment on a stick-wielding Riann. They grow up so quick these days. But what he says, looking back to Jensen is simply, "Shell, boy. You had the harpers going cross-eyed at your testimonial, trying to write it all down. I heard they got into a debate afterwards on how to spell 'uncomfortableness' and...what was it...'Healery', I think." Snrk. "Lot of good men were pulled into that mess, but you were the youngest. I remember that." But then his smile dims, fades, is gone. "Safe. Ah. That is going to be somewhat of a serious concern, I'm afraid."
Ashwin is not inexperienced in the twisting and turning backways of Jensen's vocabulary, and he doesn't bat an eyelash at these examples. Maybe there's a faint uncoiling in the tension his face shows, a tension that's been forcibly schooled thus far into his usual poker face. Something shifts slightly, only to return redoubled as J'lor continues. "The child won't be safe?" There's faint disbelief in his tone.
Jensen goes a little shifty-eyed as his vocabulary is brought into discussion. Uh. A little more awkward, please, he isn't quite buried yet. "Aheh. They could've just asked." He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Sheepish, yes. "Well, we all did what had t'be done." A pause. "All of us." He meets J'lor's eyes on that note. Yes, that includes him. When the bluerider answers with such a not-good reply Jen again looks over at Ashwin very briefly. "What's goin' on?" he wants to know.
"Frankly, no," this first J'lor says to Ashwin. "None of you will, because you're tied to Jensen. But..." the bluerider pauses to look up at the sky. "It's late, we can likely get you in and settled and not have to worry so much until tomorrow. And I'll speak to S'val and Cassiel, they're better at these sorts of things than I am. Wheeling. Subversion. It's not my strength." Then he looks to Jensen. "The island's split, and a good majority are still loyal to me. But not all, and, truthfully, if I'm anything at all, it's a figurehead." Another moment of quiet. This to clench his teeth, jaw straining before its eased away. "Derek, I'm afraid, assumed control. A little over two turns ago."
Ashwin knows the name, because he knows his history, and he's a guard, and this is the sort of thing all guards know. The further implications perhaps escape him, but his hands lift slowly to take up their customary place, curling around the two knife hilts that rest at his belt, then uncurling and resettling there once more. "She's a baby." He speaks the words as though they prove a point. She is a child. She must be safe.
"Woah." Jensen holds up a hand, just a second. He looks down, over at Ashwin again, then locks eyes with J'lor. "Derek's in charge here?" /Derek/. If ever you want to make Jen squirm, simply mention that man's name and sit back and watch. "Shit. This just gets better'n better." He shoves his fingers into his hair, closes his eyes. Not good news, apparently. "We've been dropped on an island with him in control. This don't exactly bode well." A beat later he's reaching down for his jacket, which he tries to drape over one arm, and then his bag, which he hefts. "Let's go. Take us someplace."
To Ashwin, J'lor says only, softly, "Not to him, she isn't." And then he looks back to Jensen and his squirming. "There's nowhere else. And you are better off, I think, with others around you. You're on the island chain and he'll learn of it. Wherever you settle yourselves. There's a way to hold the balance. Hold him back, to deal. Cassiel will know. We should get you settled. The night is going and I need time to speak with her before everyone wakes."
Ashwin has had a really outstanding week. He has. There's been the part where he was dismissed, and the part where he was locked up. The part where his Captain was locked up was obviously a highlight too. The farewell to a woman he's never publicly admitted he's involved with was obviously one for the album, and certainly this meeting is providing an excellent book end. He's got nothing left, but the deadpan expression he wears as he bends down to gather up his two bundles one more time, hefting them in his arms. "Take us there, then."
"Well then take us there. Get us settled. I don't wanna be out here anymore." Squirm, Jen, squirm. "And don't think this is done. I'm gonna wanna talk t'you good'n long soon as I get her settled in." He indicates Riann, who has started to get fussy in his arm, with a tilt of his head. She waves her little fists around and kicks at the blanket she's enwrapped in. "Quick." He hefts his bag.
"Ah. Well, I assure you, Jensen, you're not the only one itching for a long talk. But tomorrow. Tonight I must devote to Cassiel and only hope she doesn't pitch me out of her weyr for waking her so late." The glows bob as the once-leader returns to the blue dragon waiting patiently. "He is Vellath," J'lor says by way of introduction. Vellath makes a noise that resembles a belch more than anything else. Then the bluerider's reaching for the bags to hitch them to the dragon's straps. "I presume you lads know how to mount up? Considering your arrival."
"Yessir." Well, the first-name thing lasted well, didn't it? Ashwin hands over his burdens, tugs on his shirt to straighten it, and looks up to Vellath for a moment. "Thank you." This, it would seem, is for the dragon, not his rider. And then, he mounts up - after Tialith, Vellath doesn't present the challenge he might, and the once lieutenant hauls himself up easily enough.
Jensen follows silently. He has nothing else to say on the matter of when there will be talking. He's just going to retreat back into that little part of his brain reserved for mad-dash scrambling and stay there while his body continues to function. He holds his own bag out for strap-attachment or what have you, reaches up one-handed for the straps and lifts. Heave. Buckles are buckled, Riann, starting to become noisier, is resituated, and he's ready for takeoff.
"She's hungry, I'd expect," is J'lor's verdict of the baby's increased fussing. He settles and shields the golds, checks straps, settles himself in. "We'll try her on some starfruit mash. Nizzie was keen on it when he was tiny." Vellath, being smaller, is more jarring. Movements are felt more heavily and his leap into the air will send the inexperienced rocking forward awkwardly. Wings pump upwards at the quintet of beings sail upwards and vanish. Off to the black. Off to a new world. Off to Derek's domain.