Logs:Aftermath
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| RL Date: 5 June, 2011 |
| Who: Celadion, Devaki, Raum, Riorde, Xavior |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Immediately after the discovery, the arrival of the dragons causes a very divisive group of islanders. Devaki voices his determination return the Bloods to their rightful place. |
| Where: Caves, Western Island |
| When: Day 11, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
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| Within the caves, it's anarchy. With all the children under twelve here, and panicked from what they've heard of from the other islanders, there's plenty of crying and upset everywhere. Poor Ani's struggling, trying to look after all the children with a few of the older girls to help her. Devaki, oddly, is here too. He's covered in a slight layer of dust, as if he's been wandering the caves for a while, but by the time people start heading back from the beach, he's with the children, trying to calm them down -- he's telling some sort of story, hopefully not the one with the scary sky-sea-monsters. Riorde brushed off her father with the short excuse that she'd see to her grandmother. The old woman was cave-bound, joints swelling up with the turn of the seasons, and though Riorde does seek out her gran, she's a bit short with the woman despite obvious affection. Preoccupied, her long dark hair in disarray, Riorde leaves her grandmother to gossip with other elders and makes her way towards the children and their storyteller. It's hard, at first, to know if Devaki's making the children cry more or not. "...and he kept pulling on the fishing line, slowly reeling his catch in. And you know what he saw?" He pauses for dramatic flare, glancing around at each of the children with wide-eyes, stretching his hands as wide as they can go, "A fish. A /big/ fish. The biggest you've ever seen! And though he was hungry, he let it go, and do you know why?" He's engaged the children enough that a few chorus, 'No?' "Because the big fish is what keeps the sea-monsters away!" This earns a mixture of teary-eyed nods from the children. Fish scare sea monsters away -- makes total sense! Celadion comes in with his group of friends, all talking at once. "I don't know, I think you could set up a few nets and take one of them down. I wonder what they taste like. Awful looking monsters. I don't trust it." Speaking at a distance from the children, most of their other words are muffled, but the long and short of it is finding a way to take the beasties out of any fight during some return visit. Riorde stands at the back, arms crossed over her narrow chest. She, unlike many of the children, doesn't seem taken by Devaki's story. Truth be told, she's glaring at him over their heads. Devaki is not unaware of glare-age. It'd be hard to ignore, really. "But you know what really scares away sea-monsters?" he continues, grinning at the shakes of head. "Tickles!" he lunges for the girls nearest him and wiggles his fingers, which has most of the children fleeing away from him with giggles, most going to hide behind Ani. Straightening, Devaki pats the cloth-wrapped bundle tucked into his shorts, more to make certain it's still there than any effort to draw attention to it. He's looking at Riorde, like he wants to say something, but Celadion's words carry, and catching some of them, he frowns. "I don't think any net of ours will big enough for /those/ beasts," he remarks, deadpan. Riorde's hard look doesn't let up even as children shriek and squeal and fly away. She doesn't address Devaki either, and though releasing him from her stare in order to look towards Celadion, it doesn't mean she's done with him. She hasn't forgiven. "What they /taste/ like?" Riorde can't help herself; she sounds appalled as she picks up snippets of speech nearby. "They'd eat us, more like." "No net we have made 'yet'." Celadion notes with dangerous calm. "I don't know about you, but I think I'm..." He catches the tearful-look from one of the children and bites off his other remark. At Riorde's reponse he frowns at her, "I'm not sure I like the idea of just rolling over and trusting them." Another look after the children who are scrambling away and he crosses over to Riorde to speak without upsetting any of the youngsters. "Do we get to have a say? Will the elders hear other opinions?" Xavior arrives in time to catch the drift of conversation, "Eat vtols, it'll assure indigestion." Post death revenge. A tightly woven seaweed net binds a bundle that has been cast over a lean shoulder. Hardened feet pad across stone, crossing the width of the entrance in very few strides to carry the thin man towards the others within. "No one's said anything about trusting them," Devaki's quick to say that. "They're from High Reaches," he says, with a tone of distrust as he mentions it. "They're the ones that /brought/ us here, my grandda said." His voice is low and conversational, for the most part, his gaze drifting to the children. Some are still crying or sniffling, but most are starting to quiet down, mostly from exhaustion. As to the matter of a say? He shrugs his shoulders. He wasn't at the beach, so he didn't hear the end of the conversation. Instead, he nods to Riorde, "I think Ri's right. I saw the claws on those things. They don't eat vegetables and seaweed, that's for sure." Xavior's comment just earns a puzzled look from Devaki. "Who said anything about trust?" Riorde sounds derisive. Her earlier shock has started to wear off, leaving a young woman hardened and severe in look, bearing, manner. "They /have/ to," she answers the question on the elders, tone quickening. "It's not just them who're here." Despite her glares, here Riorde looks askance of Devaki. Celadion shakes his head, "I /saw/ them." His tone sharp back at Devaiki, he doesn't need a reminder about their claws. "Imagine that they'll just pack us up and /give/ away anything? They think we're ... villans. What if we move the settlement into the caves? Keep out of sight, somewhere we can defend ourselves. Those .... things....if we can't net them, we have to do something to stay safe." Quiet Xavior comes to stand near the others, at first merely listening, his features slackly insipid. Not prone to negativity, it could come as a shock to some when he imparts, "If they come back at all, it'll likely be to finish the job their ancestors thought they had. " Abandoning the exiles on this rock during thread surely wasn't in an attempt to keep them alive and well. "We'll find out soon enough. But either way, they /can't/ pretend they don't know we're here now," Devaki is very certain of that, and his hand touches the cloth bundle at his hip again, unconsciously. "But, I don't think even the elders would force us to go, if we wanted to stay." Him? He doesn't seem convinced yet, shaking his head slowly. Celadion's words earn a shift of shoulders, "This is no worse than thread, and we survived /that/. I imagine it'll be packed in here tonight. No one's going to want to sleep in the open, not after that." His mouth tightens at Xavior's comment. "It's the elders choice, if we should fight. But we're so few, we can't afford to lose more people." "/No./" Riorde's voice rings out sharply. "I am not moving into the caves because some- some /dragons/ showed up out of the deep." Scorn covers up her anxieties, at least to some extent. "We can make them take us." How, yet, she doesn't know, but it doesn't stop her from posturing her way towards certainty, with hands now going to her hips. Celadion points to Xavior, nodding his head firmly, "Exactly right. -Exactly-." Moistening his lips he looks ready to launch into some plan or another but ends up only clicking his teeth together in frustration. A little snort follows, "And what if we decide not to follow the choices the Elders make?" Because rebelion is lots of fun. The movement Devaki makes on his body is again noticed, but this time he doesn't let it slide, "What do you have there?" Riorde gets a dose of her own scorn after a moment, though he is still looking at Devaki and whatever he's smuggling, "I'm not going ANYWHERE with them....not going to be their slave. Or Monster-food." Xavior shakes his head to negate the assumption. "I'm talking defense, not fighting. I wouldn't pick a fight with beasts the size of small mountains." He's may be naive, but not stupid. "The weak should be sent in deep, while the rest prepare to defend if we need." Spears against dragons and armed, trained riders. His head cocks at Riorde, and he echoes her words laced with confusion, "Take us? Why would we want to go?" Xavior is genuinely puzzled. "These aren't made up sea-monsters, Ri," Devaki says, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "And people are scared." But not him. Nope. His fingers aren't white as he reaches out to clutch at Riorde's arm, at all. As for going with the riders, he hesitates, though any answer that might be forthcoming is cut off by Celadion's words, shaking his head. "You're going to start bucking their leadership, /now/ of all times? Don't be stupid. /They/ know better than us what's at stake. Some of 'em might even /remember/." And whatever other disagreements he might have with the council, there's no doubt he's totally, hundred-percent behind them right now. His hand touches his hip again, as Celadion draws attention there, but he's silent, glancing between the others at the discussion of staying-or-going. "Nothing of the stories says anything about that," Riorde remarks to both the comment on being turned slave or food, but a hint of doubt underscores her tone. What does she know, born and raised in exile? She turns her head to stare at Xavior, fully incredulous. "Why wouldn't we?" She, it seems, is intent to buck the council whatever Devaki's advice might be. At the touch, the dark-haired girl looks at him, hesitating in her answer. What she says is both softer and harsher at once. "I know. They're real." Celadion's eyes narrow slightly as he watches Devaki and takes a step closer, looking at that hand on his hip, or the hip, as though he could see through fabric and flesh and tell what he's hiding. "I'll wait to hear what they say and how they try to handle things...but..." and there's a lot of doubt in that 'but'. "So, what are you hiding Devaki?" Pointing at the other's hip outright now that he's closer. Xavior has always been a sentinel of the council, reacting positively to whatever they should ask, but in this, they might finally see another side to the seemingly malleable man. It's always been: his life for the people and the island, and in his mind the two should always walk harmoniously hand in hand. To leave would be to abandon all that he has lived his entire life for. His answer is simple and true to his heart, "It's our home," his hand waves out the mouth of the cave, "where they'd take us is /their/ home. This rock was given to us by High Reaches itself." A gift in his mind. Devaki's gaze settles on Riorde, and he nods once, simply, in response to her. "I think there's some more spears in one of the boxes near the back-- Io or her Grams will know where they are. Maybe we can set up a group in the entrance. Just in case." He looks at Xavior, and though his lips twist at the talk of being given the rock, all he says is, "And our /rightful/ home is somewhere else." There's an odd vehemence in his tone, now. He seems content enough with Celadion's intention to wait for the elders, and he nods in firm agreement. "I'm hiding nothing. Nothing that I haven't spoken of, often and long. Some of us have forgotten our heritage, thought it was some dream. But it's real. As real as --" he falters briefly, glancing at Riorde, "As dragons." "No," Riorde objects suddenly, insistently. She looks at Xavior as if the stare itself will wear him down. "It wasn't given. We were taken." She has her own versions of the old stories, passed down within her family, and they make her scowl now. Hearing her own position echoed by Devaki, the girl aligns herself with him through a stubborn, rigid posture rather than looking as if she's about to break away and deck him at any minute. Celadion's lips tighten over his teeth and for a moment he puzzles over Devaki's words, not believing that he's not hiding something at his hip and letting his expression say it all. To Xavior he nods again, "That land....that Raum comes from and those outsiders....? It's not ours." Then more of a question hs snorts, "Do you really think they're going to just let us take back our parents and grandparent's places? They were ripped from home and hearth and sent /here/. Why else not take us back with them now? Because they know we don't belong there." Xavior gently disagrees with Devaki, "Not anymore. Generations have wiped our names off their lines. They didn't even know we were here." Again he waves towards the unseen distance, "Out there we are /outsiders/. Here we're /home/." His mouth caresses the word as it passes over rounded lips. In one manner an agreement is made with Riorde, "We were taken," but then what follows shifts the slant, "and given this home." Left to die, he knows, but they beat the odds and survived! "We won the right to stay." Xavior firmly aligns with Celadion, even doing so physically by falling in to match the line of their shoulders as he leans on his back leg. "It /was/ ours," Devaki retorts heatedly, as intent as any here have ever seen him. He tips his head briefly towards Riorde, agreeing with a set of his shoulders. Deliberately -- few unconscious actions in the mindhealer -- he steps closer to Riorde's side to face off against the other two. "They will. Because it's rightful. And it's /ours/." That last is all but a growl. "We starve here. We struggle, and we die. Look at Kima and those others. It was so fucking /stupid/, that's why everyone was upset. So stupid that we survived those years of Thread only to get killed by a storm. I won't let it happen again." "Where is he, anyway?" Riorde can't help but wonder as Raum's name comes up, glancing from one man to the other. "Wouldn't he know...?" Know what? Her question trails off, lost in the more important argument she puts forward along with Devaki. She squares her shoulders, sets her jaw at an uncompromising angle. She doesn't allow herself to look up at him, focusing her stony glare on Celadion and Xavior. "We won the right to /leave,/" she counters. "Whoever's crime sent us here, it wasn't ours. /I/ am not going to stay, and suffer, and die." She spits out each word with sharp distaste. Celadion crosses his arms over his lean chest and rocks back in the same postur that Xavior has taken, his gaze hard and lips tight. "Won the right to leave? Then why didn't they take us? Why are they stalling? To build up a force to take us out? And What, Devaki, do you feel is our rightful place 'there'? Do you think they'll tell Lord Highreache to step aside and let the children of the exiles take their rightful place? Or tell his children to step aside for us? And who will decide which one of us gets to step back into the lines? Rightful and 'fair'...I don't know how you can put those words in your mouth and think it applies to 'those peopole' who are decended from the ones who put us here." For Xavior it's so simple his confusion at their not seeing it becomes almost too painful to endure. "To what? We go to what? What our ancestors /had/ is now /gone/, given to someone else. Are you going to fight them for it? You know they won't give it up without one." A small hint of vehemence makes it into his rich tone, "I know /I/ won't." He'd fight to the death for the island and its people. In a sense, he already has, turn after turn. There is something else that niggles, and this he feeds to Celadion, "You hear the talk of treasures?" The mention causes muscles to tense. Devaki stiffens slightly at Riorde's reminder of Raum. "I didn't see him anywhere," he agrees, with an abrupt scowl. "I shouldn't be surprised he hid. I wonder whether he'll /want/ to be discovered." His fingers twist together briefly, and he says to Celadion, "How would they take us? Would they fit us all on their three dragons? What about the people that want to stay? Shall we all stand on the beach and decide right then and there? This is /not/ something we want to rush." His fingers curl into fists now, then release as he realizes he's done it. "They won't be able to hide it now, that's the difference. No one ever knew. Didn't you see those rider's faces? They didn't /know/. They had no idea. High Reaches has wronged us, and they've concealed it. It will all come out now." With a simple shake of his head, he says to Xavior, "Then I'll fight. With words, for what's ours." "They said they'd come back." But again Riorde's tone admits doubt. Devaki's explanation is more satisfactory than the one she tries to summon, and she supports his rhetoric with one firm nod. "What I want to fight for," she speaks up, "is our right to choose a different life. They can't leave us - they /know./" Briefly, her harshness fades. "They looked good," she says enviously. Celadion's head nods along with Xavior words, for they echo his own, and it saves him the burden of having to re-form the words, even though speaking has let some of that panic fire out of him. A small, bitter laugh comes out at Devaki's words though, "Oh, they won't be able to hide it....you put faith that they'll not cover it up. You still haven't said though, what is it that you expect back there? What are you going to fight 'for'? Ask for land? A hut? I didn't see them looking too shocked, I heard them call us 'Savages' clear enough and saw the look of disgust. And they could have taken back an elder or two to speak on our behalf." He frowns, his voice failing, "Why would they think we had treasures? Maybe that's why they looked so disgusted." Devaki patting down his person has new meaning, "Do we have treasure?" "You forget, my dear Devaki, that was High Reaches that came. What once was buried will likely be so again, but this time they won't again make the mistake of leaving us alive." Of this Xavior is becoming assured. A finger absently traces the blade line of the sheath that rides his hip. "How will your words fight claw and sword?" Riorde's envy makes Xavior flinch. It is Celadion's inquiry about treasures that stains his features with guilt, yet he remains solidly silent on the subject beyond the initial mention. Judging by Devaki's expression, he thought that was obvious, and his lips twist as he's forced to say, "Our Blood. Don't you see? If they recognize our Blood, they'll have to support us. Give us land. It's our /right/." He's no harper to know the specifics of charters, but he seems very confident there's something in there about that, rightly or no. There's a weird look on Devaki's face when they speak of treasure, part dismissive, part disgusted. "You're just as bad as them. No, there's no treasure, and even if there was, what good would it have done us here?" He, too, looks at Riorde as he detects that note of envy. Not judging, so much as surprised. Riorde looks down as attentions falls on her, envy for the riders' well-fed, well-clothed appearances hid behind sullen frustration. "It isn't /fair./" It isn't land she wants so much as opportunity. "If it's treasure they want, can't we convince them we have it?" Unlikely as the idea it, she still voices it for consideration. "It might not do us any good here, but if they come looking for treasure, maybe it does a whole lot for 'them'." Celadion says in regards to the treasure and gives Xavior a curious glance to see if he's thinking the same thing. He too looks disgusted at the very idea of being envious of the outsiders and their soft, lucky lives. "I don't know why they'd believe us. Our 'bloodlines'. If their grandparents had ours sent to this island, do you =honestly= think they'll just give it back to us? And how do you have a battle of wits with them? We don't know anything about their world, except for what Raum has said and do you trust him?" Cela sighs and closes his eyes, as though it might all go away, the monsters and this other world and everything. One man's trash is Xavior's treasure. To him the meaning is broader than a chest full of gems. It includes people, memories, gifts from the sea, and a pile of rocks some categorize as an island. It is the gifts from the sea long stowed away that brings about the guilt, but it is the rest that clenches his muscles with the thought of their theft, including that of Riorde. "What makes you think they'll even believe you are blood? What proof have you that they cannot dismiss? My guess, since no one knew we were here, they've stricken us from all records." Returning to the woman's wishes, he aims at a gentle tone, "But will /you/ be their treasure? I've read it... blood becomes slave in a single generation, and we have more than one between our former claim and who we would be today." "Greed is a tricky emotion to gamble our future on. Greed makes people... unpredictable." Devaki says, although slowly, like he's seriously considering it. Giving a quick shake of his head, he answers Celadion, calmer now but no less vehement despite the continued obstacles the others offer, "I'll learn their society, their rules, and I'll use it against them." He doesn't even bother answering the comment of Raum, as if it's not worth acknowledging. He gives a faint, knowing smile at Xavior's words, but simply shifts his shoulders. "There'll be records," is all he says, sure. "It's just a matter of finding them. You know what harpers are like. They can't help themselves." He gives a faint chortle under his breath. Celadion sweeps a hand towards Devaki, "Well, that will suit you just fine then. You, the elders and the harper will do just fine. The rest of us?" He gives Devaki a searching look, as he only knows one harper, he has no idea what harpers are like, and particularlly no idea what mainland harpers might be like, "I, have no idea." He says quietly and lifts up his shoulders, "But, it sounds like you have it all worked out and as you're friends with our harper, she'll help you out." He puts a hand to his chest and looks around, "Myself on the other hand, have no clue where to start uncovering my heritage and not the first idea where to look. I'd be better off doing what I do know. Staying alive on this island." Devaki's remarks on greed seem to implicate Riorde, at least to her own ears, and she looks up sharply though says nothing. She watches him as he speaks, scrutinising. As for trusting Raum - "Yes," Riorde then lies out of faithfulness to some other bargain, some other hope. "Doesn't this show that Raum wasn't lying? He'll understand more of this than we do. He can help." She is clear-eyed as she looks up and turns towards Xavior. "I will be neither." It is easiest to speak in the negative, what she will not do, what she does not want. Xavior lets loose an exhaustive sigh, but can't help but smile at Devaki. "I hope for your sake you are right, my friend, but I am staying." It isn't even said with vehemence, but rather cool assurance that no one would make him go, that no one would make him leave his beloved rock. Again he stands staunchly with Celadion. Devaki rolls his eyes ceiling-wards. "Don't you see? It'll benefit all of us. Not just those with the Blood. That's the whole point." He's frustrated now, and it's growing pretty obvious. "If you want to stay, stay. I'm not forcing you, and I doubt the elders would, either. But I want off this miserable rock." That goes for Xavior too, apparently. His arms fold across his chest, his brows rising in sudden surprise at Riorde's defense of Raum. He eyes her sidelong, not appearing particularly convinced by her words. "You believe the Other?" Riorde chooses her words carefully, not aiming for a wholesale endorsement but enough of one that might buy Raum a little credibility. "I believe what he knows could be useful. He's worth listening to." Her vehemence returns as she states with finality, "You stay - fine. I'm not." She lifts her hand to touch Devaki's arm, some sort of support for their shared position, then quits the argument. "My father'll be wondering where I am." Not a line she's accustomed to using; the advent of the dragons makes Riorde show more consideration for her family than usual. Celadion's eyes roll before fixing on Devaki again, "I still don't see how I can prove I have blood to them." He gives a shake of his head but he's chewing back his other comments, glowering across the cave at nothing in particular. "We'll just see if they come sweeping in to pluck whom up." Though it doesn't sound like a prospect he'd enjoy. Xavior actually brightens in the darkest of moments. "You know... /if/ you go," as if it were in question, "you could create trade with the island. You know you'll have trustworthy backup at all times should you." Should you not forget your friends who have helped keep you alive all these turns. "You're going to need all the backup you can get against a world full of strangers." Creepy strangers with flying sea monsters. The cerulean gaze is trained on Riorde as she prepares to leave. Raum heads in from Cliffs, Western Island. Raum has arrived. "Listening to, maybe," Devaki concedes, "But believing? That's a whole other thing." He tips his head towards Riorde in silent gratitude for the support, though as she gracefully bows out, he manages not to look ill-at-ease despite the look he casts after her. A glance across the caves shows that the children are mostly calm now, some having curled up in makeshift beds on the cave floor. Then back to Celadion, brows rising briefly. "There are ways. If that's all you're worried about--" he spreads his hands as if to dismiss it. Xavior's suggestion is taken in with a slow, thoughtful nod, considering. "/When/," he adds, determindly. "Yeah, maybe," Riorde says, uncommitted. So far the desire to get off the island is as far as her thinking's gone. "Still," she says on the subject of Raum, persistent without forcing the point. A couple steps separate her, and she scans the cavern, not yet heading off in search of family despite her words. Of all those on the island, possibly the only one who understands what happened, who they were, is Raum. But the Stranger's been very quiet indeed all day, not putting in much of an appearance at the meeting or even after. But now here he comes, slinking into the caves with his mouth curved faintly upward. Sixth sense or dumb luck, he passes very near the four facing off, and even offers, "Evening," to them. Celadion's dark eyes shift from Devaki and pin Raum and his apparent smug smiling face with disgust. "Well, look who it is. See any of your buddies out there today?" He refolds his arms across his chest as he turns to watch the redhead and size up his response to the flying seamonster visit. The seaweed cord to the bundle is starting to dig an uncomfortable line in Xavior's shoulder, so he swings it down to let it drop between his bare feet. The idea continues to thunk about in his head, so he mostly goes quiet, only responding to the chatter when Raum enters the mix, and even then only to hail the man with a mild smiling, "What do you think?" aiming it straight at the newcomer. Devaki's hands, not-so-coincidentally, fall back to his sides, and there's a slight change in his posture as the man in question fortiutiously arrives. Eyes are slightly narrowed, and there's definitely a wary vibe as his gaze settles on Raum. "Convenient, you showing up, /now/. What do you think. Does your friend," this is to Riorde, now, "Have a suitably glib excuse for missing dragons descending on our islands?" While his stance may have been Riorde-and-him against Celadion-and-Xavior, with Raum in the mix, it's now more clearly Us-and-Other, the change made obvious in the step he takes forward to join the others. The girl among the four stalls, delaying her departure as Raum comes upon them. "Evening." Riorde conceals her eagerness under a layer of caution. She doesn't ask the questions bubbling up, instead waiting to hear how the outsider among them answers the mingled accusations and queries. There is, however, a glance shot at Devaki for the remark directed at her. Which she doesn't answer, since it wasn't really for her to do so. Raum's steps slow as he's greeted, and he turns to glance over the group again, brows lifting. "Missing?" he wonders. "I saw plenty where I was. What do I want to get in the middle of it for--I'm not one of you and I'm not of the Reaches, either." The latter's added to Celadion, with a tip of his head to the dark young man. Celadion glances to Devaki as he steps forward to join their line but it's really a flick of a look, his attention stays on Raum. "Really? Is that why you didn't stand up and explain how you got here? Don't -you- want to go back to your home?" His eyebrows lift in apparent surprise. "Is it because you find our island so comfortable?" Xavior verbally nudges Raum, "Do you think they'll come back? And if they do, will it be to end what their ancestors clearly meant to?" It isn't clear as to whether he'll believe what is said, but curiosity captures his focus to pin it on the Other. All the sudden the tall lean man is full of questions and so he echoes Celadion, "Do /you/ want to be.... so called... rescued?" The answer will surely decide how Xavior sees Raum from this point on: friend or possible foe to the island. There's a faint, speculative frown from Devaki as he stares thoughtfully at Riorde. Or more accurately, at her lack of answer. A tip of head, and his gaze shifts onto Raum, though Celadion and Xavior seem to have more than enough to say on that score that he remains silent. Back to watching Riorde, speculatively -- her reactions, more probably. Riorde's curiosity is unmistakable as she waits and watches to see how Raum will responds to the questions that are put to him. Aware that she's under inspection too, the young woman assumes an unassuming position, stepping back a little to cede Raum centre-stage, placing herself out the outskirts of this little group. "There's no point in talking to the ones today," is Raum's reply; his shoulders lift slightly. "They're no one, no more than we are. It's the ones that will come tomorrow--the important ones, the leaders--that the council will have to convince. They'll come back; they'll be too curious not to. Whether they'll take us with them, or we'll even go... I don't know." Beat. "Of course, if the council's interested in my outsider's take on them, I'm happy to oblige, but I'm not one of you and whether you stay or go, I plan to go with them, as soon as I can." Celadion smirks openly at the response but he has no other questions, the first answer is enough to stick in his throat the wrong way. His arms tighten across his chest and fingers drum against his upper arm idly. "Sounds a little too convinient though, that you didn't say anything to them at all." Raum is written off with a crumpling of Xavior's lips and a disgusted shake of the head. A lean into Celadion unleashes the truth of the new conviction, "/Outsider/," though it's spoken quietly. Prior to this he would have given the man the benefit of the doubt, but it's become clear that the island that saved him matters not, nor the people who reside upon it. The darker man's question brings about a rash of thoughtful nodding. "What are you thinking?" He wants to know Celadion's mind. There's a slight exhale from Devaki as he tracks Riorde's retreat. His interest in Raum is far less, however, especially after the Other's initial answers to his fellow islander's questions. "I should see if my grandfather needs me." He drops a hand onto first Celadion's, then Xavior's shoulders, in a show of silent solidarity, no matter they were at odds mere moments before Raum came into the caves. Then he's off, heading for the exit. "Less than those riders," Riorde would point out to Xamior, more gentle than her usual. She waits no longer, making good on an exit earlier announced. Raum, idly, "There's what, five or six score of us? Should we have a roll call for everyone who didn't get to speak to the riders? Do the babes count or shell we grant them get a pass this time?" He glances briefly from Celadion to Xavior, though Devaki's and Riorde's respective exits earn a frown and a long look from him. The touch to his shoulder by Devaki diverts Celadion's attention for a moment so he can watch the others departing. Instead of answering Raum, there's a disgusted look for his clever answer and he answers Xavior instead, "I feel that Raum is dodging." But whatever it is, it's too slippery for Cela to pin point. Distrust darkens his expression and the earlier upset of seeing the seamonsters with wings actually living and breathing on the beach aren't making his temper any better. |
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