Logs:One Last Visitor
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| RL Date: 5 December, 2007 |
| Who: Gay, N'thei |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Telgar Weyr, Crom Hold |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 5, Turn 14 (Interval 10) |
| The morning sun still slants cheerfully across the courtyard outside, warm and bright with spring-turning-to-summer. Only a few rays manage to find a way into the drab room that serves as Crom's holding cells, from high windows at either end of the building, none of it daring to peek its head into the cells themselves. The prisoners are doing what they can to keep from dying from boredom; N'thei's method involves sitting on the floor next to his cot, staring blankly through the bars. All is quiet within. The sounds the precede the entry of an official visitor come outside - the boots down the hall, the scrape of chairs as guards come to their feet, the keys in the locks. At least it's something to do? When the door is finally swung open, it's not any of the more usual or expected visitors that are admitted; rather a tall willowy woman in leathers with a undisciplined tangle of apricot curls. Gay's hands are in the pockets of her jacket as she pauses just inside to glance around with a sharp dark gaze, then starts making her way along the row of cells. A'son and Jolak are probably trying to catch some shut-eye, so little reaction from them. N'thei though blinks his vision clear at the tell-tale sounds of an important visitor, the very beginning of a smile come to the corner of his mouth. He leans far forward to see beyond the edge of his cell to the arrival; gray eyes flick across bright curls, the smile fails. By the time Gay makes it to his cell in the back, he's back to tattered and tired-looking; "Brought your pointy stick, I hope." "Pointy stick?" As Gay comes up on N'thei's cell with long, easy strides, she's a bit bemused by the question. She looks over to the other two cells briefly, gaze moving over the state of the brothers before she comes back to the bronzerider with her full attention. Tilting her head to one side, flicking curls from her eyes as she watches him, "Ain't got a pointy stick. Just wanted t'come by. But didn't think things'd move too quickly if I did it too soon." N'thei uses the wall to prop up the back of his head, the effort of holding it there himself proved too much. It allows him to look up at Gay without the hassle of getting to his feet and being civil and such. "Yesss, so that you could poke at us while we were safely behind bars. I assumed that's the only reason you people visited." You-people said with eyes pinned to Gay's shoulder knot. With an arch of pale brows, Gay doesn't seem to expect civility or much else from N'thei, given his situation. Leaning against a wall easily, she folds her arms - more relaxed than anything else - and asks, "There were others? 'Cause I didn't hear about it if so. Like I said, wasn't sure if things would go as well if they thought I was bein' too friendly. And it's sorta my way." A pause. "Most of the time. Who else visited to poke? That's - not the point." A speck of humor gets over on N'thei, at whose expense? "People madam, just people." Unshaved and bruises fading, his smile is far from spectacular when he flashes it up at Gay, humorless cheer. "Promise, no one will think you are being too friendly. Least of all us three. --Was there something you wanted? So I might have the pleasure of telling you no?" "People." Gay echoes this slowly, not buying it in the least. With an answering smile that seems far more brilliant than it ought to be for a response or this place - but still genuine - "You sure you don't wanna tell me, 'cause I'm like to tell 'em off for it." Even so, the grin fades after just a moment, and she notes, with a tilt of her head towards A'son, "He seemed not t'mind. I never minded him visiting." There's a pause as she considers the question, then; "Yeah. I wanna know why. 'Cause it doesn't make any sense, strategically. Like, winter's near over... Lots of outlying holds. Why the main one?" N'thei promises with a smile, "I'm sure I don't want to tell you." He balls a fist with one hand, pushes his thumb against his fingers to pop his knuckles. "You want to know why? You. Want to know why?" Derisive laughter ends any chance of a better answer at this junction. "A'son's sort of a suck-up, not the most discerning judge of character. I'll be sure to give him your regards." Wrinkling her nose, Gay shrugs diffidently watching N'thei crack his knuckles with a bemused glance. "Yeah. Because it seems stupid. I do a lot of stupid things. Maybe I'm curious if you got any better reasons than me." At the derisive laughter, the tall woman might flush a touch - but that's her only outward reaction, beyond pushing off the wall, approaching the bars. "But, y'know. Why bother tryin' for understanding? Even if it's comin' a bit late." With another glance back to the other man, "Er - thanks, I think? Seemed like a decent guy to me. I guess that means you think I'm lacking character. Nice t'know." "Lacking character? Not exactly what I was driving at." N'thei draws his feet away from the bars when Gay comes nearer to them, his boots scraped across the floor till his knees are bent in front of him. "You are after all the Weyrwoman who couldn't keep herself together enough to avoid a fuck-you to the High Reaches Weyrleader. Since we're already on the subject of the stupid things you do." The words are casual; the tone, the expression are grudge-laden. "It's true. I couldn't. An' yeah, maybe that was pretty stupid. But you got no idea what lead up to that." Gay comes up to the bars to rest a slender hand on them, looking at N'thei as he pulls away from her. Her expression is too easily read, a bit disappointed but likewise resigned. With a small smirk, "You met R'hin, yeah? You don't know what they said t'me anymore than I know what ya'll were dealin' with. It's not that I /blame/ you. Just wanted t'know." Her own words aren't overly weighted with grudges nor anything else; apparently it's not the Reaches riders that the goldrider's got an issue with. N'thei looks more comfortable now anyway, with his legs crossed rather than strung out across the floor of the cell. But no more friendly. "I do blame you. You had the chance to stop all this, to send that tithe back and tell Crom where they could shove it, but that's not what you did." His inflection, the bluntness of his gray-eyed gaze assigns every straw of blame to Gay's shoulders alone. "So I'm having a hard time finding sympathy for you, madam; I really am." Now it's Gay turn to laugh. With a short, humourless sound, she just shakes her head a little, curls bouncing. "Yeah, it's just that easy. Go on, keep tellin' me how to run things. Clearly, you got experience in this sort of thing?" Watching that blunt gaze on her, she quirks a small smile, finally getting it. Holding up hands, palms facing him, her own brown eyes are calm. "R'hin could have been not-an-asshole to one of his Holders. But that's not what he did. Your Weyrleaders could have accepted an apology for what it was. But that's not what they did. Lot of mistakes. No one gets any more sympathy than anyone else in this situation. Except maybe you guys. 'Cause this shouldn't be." Giving a last look around the cells, she busies herself with her jacket, sparing a sidelong glance as she notes, "Sounds like it's over soon enough. I asked for you all to be sprung first day, but Crom wasn't havin' it." "I know how not to stab people in the back if that's what you're asking. After all, could have been Telgar where they caught us." N'thei grins with bitter mirth and peels himself up off the floor, a process that relies heavily on the wall behind him. "Well you're a real hero of mercy, madam, a real bleeding heart. Here all this time I was hating you for making us accept your fecking charity." Closer, closer, he grabs the bars to lean on them; "I hope you satisfied your curiosity, madam." "Wasn't what I was asking, but what I'm askin' don't matter." Gay tone is flat and final at that, still doing up her jacket, not moving from her spot. Quick fingers finish with their task, and she glances up as N'thei's peeling himself off the floor, a flicker of concern in her gaze. Bleeding heart indeed. "Hate me or not, wasn't charity. Faranth, can't fucking win. Hand back as much as the tithe as can be carried, and it's charity." The redhead lets out a short, sharp breath, then; "I did everything I could. Ain't like the whole place wasn't screaming for blood, for exile rather than your Weyr handling it." Watching the bronzerider as he grabs the bars, arching a brow, "I guess, if you want to think so. Gonna threaten to kill me too?" N'thei never misses a beat, bitter words spit out fast after the goldrider's rebuttal. "How many months later did you give it back, Gay? When it wasn't yours in the first place." White knuckles release gradually, jaw clenched harder for words like blood-and-exile, the end of clenched fingers signified by a reproachful head-shake. Her last question, his abbreviated chuckle; "Do you want me to?" "Think about it for like, half a second. There's about eighty people in the bowl who have orders, who've been on the road for weeks. Decision's got to be made. As for how long? Didn't find anyone from the Reaches comin' to ask for it." Gay's quick with that too - and whether it was their or not in the first place, and whatever the reasons, at least she can say it all with certainty and conviction. As N'thei's hands begin to loosen on the bars, her posture relaxes some of the tension there. With a wry grin, "Hey, I wanted to take R'hin apart. What's another death threat between Weyrs?" The weyrwoman backs a step or two away from the cell, not laughing, but dark eyes bright. Sincere despite it all, "For what it's worth, this isn't right. Hope it's done today." N'thei takes a preemptive breath, draws it in and primes himself up to argue with Gay; the words die, their corpse exhaled through the grim pressure of his lips. His fingers slide down the bars, his forearms come to rest on the cross-support, his hands hang slack outside the cell, and his beefy shoulders shrug limply. "Thank you; that's very charitable." Curse the word! "For what it's worth, I hope you don't fall down and snap your neck or anything. --It's a big step, trust me." Gay runs a hand through her hair - which doesn't help it any - while giving N'thei an odd little smile, at once sympathetic and understanding. Not exactly an argument that's going to get resolved, like ever. "It's human," she corrects. "An' regardless of falling-down-and-breaking-neck fantasies, you're dragonriders. So this is bullshit. I'm sorry for that at least." It's an apology for something? She gives the big guy a brief nod, then starts for the door. "It's a step. I'll take it." N'thei cocks his wrist, fingers splayed, with a stilted farewell wave to Gay. After a week in jail and one too many arguments, that's all he's got left. |
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