He's Safe
Location: Weyr Crafthall
Time: Early afternoon on Day 10, Month 7, Turn 2
Players: Penny, Roa, and Vej (NPCed by Penny)
Scene: Penny wants answers, and Roa won't give them.
Craft Hall
This wide hall serves as an informal meeting and planning area for members of the Crafts. It's been stocked with plenty of tables, chairs, couches and even a number of narrow sandtables. There's also a small hearth that is kept burning day and night, causing the rich scent of fresh klah to wisp from the pots kept simmering constantly there. A number of doors lead off of the hall into offices, workrooms and classrooms. Plates next to each indicate what can be found inside.
It's a common sight, these days, the two together -- Vej is always there, trailing along behind Penny or a few steps ahead of her, poking his head into a room before she enters or lingering near the entrance after she's in. It still engenders whispers and rumors and malicious gossip, but it'd be hard for anyone who's seen them together to really suspect anything secretive there. Late afternoon often finds Penny working in the crafthall, and today is no different. Vej sits nearby, perched on a stool and no doubt watching her work; she's got her back the door, he's facing it. Penny's half-seated on the edge of a stool herself, feet stretched down to the floor and head resting on her hand -- her charcoal stick is no longer moving, and she's merely staring down at the complex drawing on the table, blankly. "Ma'am?" Penny blinks, looks up at Vej, who's looking at her now. "What?" Vej rubs a hand across his chin, lightly stubbled for this hour. "You ok, ma'am?" Her frame shifts, she looks back down, takes a breath. "Just finding myself a little stuck, Vej."
It wasn't the first place Roa's checked, but it was near to it. The crafthall. In the late morning, near afternoon, Roa makes her way there with a satchel on her left shoulder and no knot on her right. She has no purpose there except for...ah. There she is. The little weyrwoman is unaccompanied. Morley, Tannum, and Borser still remain, but their duties are centered around investigating Yevide's death and so in broad daylight, in public places, she walks alone. Once the sun sets, one of the men will keep quietly close. Just now, after days of being scarce, Roa draws in a deep breath and begins to move towards the lady smith. Vej is given a nod, but no words. The first words are for the other woman. "Hello, Penny."
Vej's head lifts as someone enters the room -- his presence has made it so that no one else is using the room at the moment, made uncomfortable enough by the large man to prefer other rooms. Thus a new arrival is quite noticeable, and his eyes find Roa immediately. Seeing the nod, his frame relaxes just slightly and his eyes flick once to Penny and back. The smith, for her part, has noticed the shift in the man's frame, and she's already turning to look when she hears Roa's voice. Eyes widen when she sees the Telgari. "Roa!" She's dumbfounded. "Roa... -Roa-. You're here!" Another moment of shock before the charcoal stick is tossed irreverently aside and she's up off her stool. "Come in, come in--" She turns to Vej, fixing her eyes on him. "Vej. Please. Can I speak to her alone? Just for a little while." Vej glances at Roa and then back at Penny, reluctance evident -- he wants news, too. "Veeeeej." He waves a hand, getting to his feet. "Fine, fine." It's not as if anything could happen, just the two of them in a room by themselves. He crosses to the door and Penny follows after him -- she reaches for his hand, gives it a quick squeeze, smiling up at him. "Thanks." And then she's closing the door, turning and leaning back on it, finding Roa again after this flurry of movement. She doesn't say anything, just looks, intently, not quite daring to speak.
The little weyrwoman, for her part, grows smaller (if that's possible) during the whole discourse between guard and girl. Her shoulders curl forward, head bowing a bit. Shells. Oh, shells. At Penny's greeting, Roa only murmurs a quiet, "Yes. I'm here. I'm sorry it took so long." Then Vej is shooed out and the door is closed. Slowly, head lifts, shoulders square, chin comes up. Blue eyes, deep and still, meet nearly-black ones and there they hold. Roa's brows lift just slightly. Penny, it seems, gets to speak first.
Silence, but not the comfortable kind -- Penny's tensing, trying to hold back the questions and, inevitably, failing. Eventually, the words burst forth in an exasperated stream. "Well, -tell- me! I know you had something to do with it, I -know- you did -- who else could it have been? Who else in the entire Weyr? And then to avoid me like the plague, you had to have been protecting them-- Oh shards, Roa, please-- where are they? Where did you take them?" She's moved closer so she can try and reach for the goldrider's hands, to clasp them beseechingly. "Where is he? Is he safe? Can I see him?" Dark eyes shine as they fix themselves on hers.
"They're safe as they can be." No denial. Not much verification either, and the words only come after Penny has grabbed Roa's hands. Her fingers twitch a few times in that grasp. "You can't. See him. A letter, maybe. I might be able to get him a letter." And then she falls quiet again. "Penny, I need your help."
"What-- why not?" Penny's completely floored by this. Apparently she'd thought that as soon as Roa recovered enough to talk to her, they'd be whisking off to wherever the boys were and she'd get to see her man. "Wait, why -not-? Roa! C'mon! You know Jen, you know him and me, I have to--" To see him? She cuts herself off, perhaps beginning to pick up on the fact that Roa is not so much excited as subdued, quiet where Penny's enthusiastic. "Roa, where -are- they that I can't go to him? If you brought them there, you can bring me too. Blast letters, I don't want to write a letter." It's that last plea that catches her, the quiet of her voice penetrating through Penny's excitement. Her mouth works a few times, though she manages to stop the continued line of questioning that's trying to escape and say merely, "What?"
Eyes don't close this time, and they don't look away. Roa watches and listens to that tirade with quiet calm. It's like trying to punch a lake, really. One's hand just slips through and leaves nothing more than ripples. "Penny. Listen. No one can see them, now. They're in hiding. In. Hiding. Do you understand? I was able to sneak them away because there was a party. A huge distraction." She grimaces. What a distraction it turned out to be, too. "Dragons are easy to locate. The entire weyr can determine where Tialith is and isn't. I cannot see them again, yet. Neither can you. They're safe, but this isn't over yet."
"I understand, but--" Penny's not going to let this go. "No one knows it was you, if they did they'd be questioning you and--" And probably tracking her every movement, but Penny's not going to say that. "You could just tell people you were going to visit some lake somewhere for the day and instead you could bring me... Roa, there has to be some way. Please. I need--" She stops. A moment longer and she drops Roa's hands, turns away from her and steps off a few paces, nervous energy finding an outlet rather than continuing to rant in the poor woman's face. Eventually she turns, arms clasped around her midsection now, hugging herself a little. "Roa, you and I are clever. Surely there's some way we can figure it out. I... I want to see him." It costs her, admitting that, as if such were not apparent in everything else she's said and done.
"I know." There is force behind those two words. A bit of Roa's own desperation. She wants to see them too. See *him*. But, "You can't. I know you want to. You. Just. Can't. Neither can I. Neither can anyone. I'm sorry, Penny. It has to be this way." Her hands, kept carefully by her sides, ball into tight fists. "We have a job to do here, on this end. Before they can come home. Will you help me?"
"At least tell me where they are. So that I can know, and think of him there." Penny's back to softness, back to big brown eyes and a pleading look on her face. It fades a little at Roa's request, and she swallows, looking away. She runs a hand back through her hair, even now repeating the gesture that made sense with long hair but serves only to tousle her shorter locks terribly. "Of course I will," she says, quietly. "But not until you tell me where Jensen is."
And now Roa's eyes close and her head turns away. Shakes slowly. "I can't," she whispers. "And if you truly want to see him home, you wouldn't make you assistance contingent on anything." Low blow, maybe. Feeling cornered can do that.
A low blow, indeed. Penny reacts almost as if it were a physical blow, reeling backwards from the woman a few steps. She stares at her for a few moments and then turns sharply, pacing away from her until she encounters a sand table. Hands curl around its edge, tightly, and she just stands there, silent. Ouch.
The weyrwoman turns back, exhaling slowly, one hand lifting to scrub at the side of her face. It's not a gesture she used to have in her repertoire until someone else's habits rubbed off on her own. But it's there now, a bit of her, tangled in with all the other little 'isms'. "I'm sorry," Roa offers, flat. Exhausted. "I can't play this game, Penny. I can't do this dance. They're safe. I can likely get him a letter. No more."
Silence greets that apology, Penny apparently not really accepting it as anything other than reflex, a reaction ingrained so much by society as to be meaningless. Fingers tighten, her grip on the edge of the table white-knuckled. "What do you need from me?"
"I need to go over what happened to you. When you were kidnapped and before, with the toys. We need common links. A means to find the killer." A small pause as Roa clears her throat. "I'm asking everyone she's hurt. All the pieces are essential."
"Jen himself went over it a dozen times," Penny says, softly, head down as she gazes at the sand, wiped clean of whatever was on it last. "One more time can't hurt." Another brief pause, and then she's forcing her grip to relax, to let her hands go and turn around. "Tonight, after dinner? I can talk then." Quiet. Polite. Cool.
"After dinner," Roa agrees with a small nod. "We'll talk then." If Penny's words weren't a dismissal, the weyrwoman still takes them as such, turning and reaching for the knob on the now-closed door. She pulls it open, and with another nod to Vej, slips through.
Time: Early afternoon on Day 10, Month 7, Turn 2
Players: Penny, Roa, and Vej (NPCed by Penny)
Scene: Penny wants answers, and Roa won't give them.
Craft Hall
This wide hall serves as an informal meeting and planning area for members of the Crafts. It's been stocked with plenty of tables, chairs, couches and even a number of narrow sandtables. There's also a small hearth that is kept burning day and night, causing the rich scent of fresh klah to wisp from the pots kept simmering constantly there. A number of doors lead off of the hall into offices, workrooms and classrooms. Plates next to each indicate what can be found inside.
It's a common sight, these days, the two together -- Vej is always there, trailing along behind Penny or a few steps ahead of her, poking his head into a room before she enters or lingering near the entrance after she's in. It still engenders whispers and rumors and malicious gossip, but it'd be hard for anyone who's seen them together to really suspect anything secretive there. Late afternoon often finds Penny working in the crafthall, and today is no different. Vej sits nearby, perched on a stool and no doubt watching her work; she's got her back the door, he's facing it. Penny's half-seated on the edge of a stool herself, feet stretched down to the floor and head resting on her hand -- her charcoal stick is no longer moving, and she's merely staring down at the complex drawing on the table, blankly. "Ma'am?" Penny blinks, looks up at Vej, who's looking at her now. "What?" Vej rubs a hand across his chin, lightly stubbled for this hour. "You ok, ma'am?" Her frame shifts, she looks back down, takes a breath. "Just finding myself a little stuck, Vej."
It wasn't the first place Roa's checked, but it was near to it. The crafthall. In the late morning, near afternoon, Roa makes her way there with a satchel on her left shoulder and no knot on her right. She has no purpose there except for...ah. There she is. The little weyrwoman is unaccompanied. Morley, Tannum, and Borser still remain, but their duties are centered around investigating Yevide's death and so in broad daylight, in public places, she walks alone. Once the sun sets, one of the men will keep quietly close. Just now, after days of being scarce, Roa draws in a deep breath and begins to move towards the lady smith. Vej is given a nod, but no words. The first words are for the other woman. "Hello, Penny."
Vej's head lifts as someone enters the room -- his presence has made it so that no one else is using the room at the moment, made uncomfortable enough by the large man to prefer other rooms. Thus a new arrival is quite noticeable, and his eyes find Roa immediately. Seeing the nod, his frame relaxes just slightly and his eyes flick once to Penny and back. The smith, for her part, has noticed the shift in the man's frame, and she's already turning to look when she hears Roa's voice. Eyes widen when she sees the Telgari. "Roa!" She's dumbfounded. "Roa... -Roa-. You're here!" Another moment of shock before the charcoal stick is tossed irreverently aside and she's up off her stool. "Come in, come in--" She turns to Vej, fixing her eyes on him. "Vej. Please. Can I speak to her alone? Just for a little while." Vej glances at Roa and then back at Penny, reluctance evident -- he wants news, too. "Veeeeej." He waves a hand, getting to his feet. "Fine, fine." It's not as if anything could happen, just the two of them in a room by themselves. He crosses to the door and Penny follows after him -- she reaches for his hand, gives it a quick squeeze, smiling up at him. "Thanks." And then she's closing the door, turning and leaning back on it, finding Roa again after this flurry of movement. She doesn't say anything, just looks, intently, not quite daring to speak.
The little weyrwoman, for her part, grows smaller (if that's possible) during the whole discourse between guard and girl. Her shoulders curl forward, head bowing a bit. Shells. Oh, shells. At Penny's greeting, Roa only murmurs a quiet, "Yes. I'm here. I'm sorry it took so long." Then Vej is shooed out and the door is closed. Slowly, head lifts, shoulders square, chin comes up. Blue eyes, deep and still, meet nearly-black ones and there they hold. Roa's brows lift just slightly. Penny, it seems, gets to speak first.
Silence, but not the comfortable kind -- Penny's tensing, trying to hold back the questions and, inevitably, failing. Eventually, the words burst forth in an exasperated stream. "Well, -tell- me! I know you had something to do with it, I -know- you did -- who else could it have been? Who else in the entire Weyr? And then to avoid me like the plague, you had to have been protecting them-- Oh shards, Roa, please-- where are they? Where did you take them?" She's moved closer so she can try and reach for the goldrider's hands, to clasp them beseechingly. "Where is he? Is he safe? Can I see him?" Dark eyes shine as they fix themselves on hers.
"They're safe as they can be." No denial. Not much verification either, and the words only come after Penny has grabbed Roa's hands. Her fingers twitch a few times in that grasp. "You can't. See him. A letter, maybe. I might be able to get him a letter." And then she falls quiet again. "Penny, I need your help."
"What-- why not?" Penny's completely floored by this. Apparently she'd thought that as soon as Roa recovered enough to talk to her, they'd be whisking off to wherever the boys were and she'd get to see her man. "Wait, why -not-? Roa! C'mon! You know Jen, you know him and me, I have to--" To see him? She cuts herself off, perhaps beginning to pick up on the fact that Roa is not so much excited as subdued, quiet where Penny's enthusiastic. "Roa, where -are- they that I can't go to him? If you brought them there, you can bring me too. Blast letters, I don't want to write a letter." It's that last plea that catches her, the quiet of her voice penetrating through Penny's excitement. Her mouth works a few times, though she manages to stop the continued line of questioning that's trying to escape and say merely, "What?"
Eyes don't close this time, and they don't look away. Roa watches and listens to that tirade with quiet calm. It's like trying to punch a lake, really. One's hand just slips through and leaves nothing more than ripples. "Penny. Listen. No one can see them, now. They're in hiding. In. Hiding. Do you understand? I was able to sneak them away because there was a party. A huge distraction." She grimaces. What a distraction it turned out to be, too. "Dragons are easy to locate. The entire weyr can determine where Tialith is and isn't. I cannot see them again, yet. Neither can you. They're safe, but this isn't over yet."
"I understand, but--" Penny's not going to let this go. "No one knows it was you, if they did they'd be questioning you and--" And probably tracking her every movement, but Penny's not going to say that. "You could just tell people you were going to visit some lake somewhere for the day and instead you could bring me... Roa, there has to be some way. Please. I need--" She stops. A moment longer and she drops Roa's hands, turns away from her and steps off a few paces, nervous energy finding an outlet rather than continuing to rant in the poor woman's face. Eventually she turns, arms clasped around her midsection now, hugging herself a little. "Roa, you and I are clever. Surely there's some way we can figure it out. I... I want to see him." It costs her, admitting that, as if such were not apparent in everything else she's said and done.
"I know." There is force behind those two words. A bit of Roa's own desperation. She wants to see them too. See *him*. But, "You can't. I know you want to. You. Just. Can't. Neither can I. Neither can anyone. I'm sorry, Penny. It has to be this way." Her hands, kept carefully by her sides, ball into tight fists. "We have a job to do here, on this end. Before they can come home. Will you help me?"
"At least tell me where they are. So that I can know, and think of him there." Penny's back to softness, back to big brown eyes and a pleading look on her face. It fades a little at Roa's request, and she swallows, looking away. She runs a hand back through her hair, even now repeating the gesture that made sense with long hair but serves only to tousle her shorter locks terribly. "Of course I will," she says, quietly. "But not until you tell me where Jensen is."
And now Roa's eyes close and her head turns away. Shakes slowly. "I can't," she whispers. "And if you truly want to see him home, you wouldn't make you assistance contingent on anything." Low blow, maybe. Feeling cornered can do that.
A low blow, indeed. Penny reacts almost as if it were a physical blow, reeling backwards from the woman a few steps. She stares at her for a few moments and then turns sharply, pacing away from her until she encounters a sand table. Hands curl around its edge, tightly, and she just stands there, silent. Ouch.
The weyrwoman turns back, exhaling slowly, one hand lifting to scrub at the side of her face. It's not a gesture she used to have in her repertoire until someone else's habits rubbed off on her own. But it's there now, a bit of her, tangled in with all the other little 'isms'. "I'm sorry," Roa offers, flat. Exhausted. "I can't play this game, Penny. I can't do this dance. They're safe. I can likely get him a letter. No more."
Silence greets that apology, Penny apparently not really accepting it as anything other than reflex, a reaction ingrained so much by society as to be meaningless. Fingers tighten, her grip on the edge of the table white-knuckled. "What do you need from me?"
"I need to go over what happened to you. When you were kidnapped and before, with the toys. We need common links. A means to find the killer." A small pause as Roa clears her throat. "I'm asking everyone she's hurt. All the pieces are essential."
"Jen himself went over it a dozen times," Penny says, softly, head down as she gazes at the sand, wiped clean of whatever was on it last. "One more time can't hurt." Another brief pause, and then she's forcing her grip to relax, to let her hands go and turn around. "Tonight, after dinner? I can talk then." Quiet. Polite. Cool.
"After dinner," Roa agrees with a small nod. "We'll talk then." If Penny's words weren't a dismissal, the weyrwoman still takes them as such, turning and reaching for the knob on the now-closed door. She pulls it open, and with another nod to Vej, slips through.