Logs:Relief and Resolve
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| RL Date: 23 May, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Jemizen |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Dee runs into N'rov, she finally finds her brother. They pull together. |
| Where: Broom Closet, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 11, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Lilah/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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>---< Broom Closet, Fort Weyr >----------------------------------------------< A small, rectangular room, the Broom Closet is just that; a storage area for brooms and other cleaning equipment, all neatly set out on the shelves that line the far wall. The Weyr has been in action for more than an hour now, reading to go to the aid of Lux's Ledge Hold. This tiny space where Jem has been known to tuck away and avoid work has been eerily quiet for some time now. Dee bursts through the door without ceremony, already asking, "Jem?!" in a near frantic sort of tone as she steps through. Precariously balanced on a stool, with his back against the tiny closet's wall and his feet up on a shelf, Jem is somehow napping comfortably in this cramped space. He was napping, rather. The sudden, unceremonious banging-open of the door startles him awake, and he's quick to hop down to the floor, blinking sleepily at his frantic sister. "Woah." He not-quite exclaims, at her entrance, then quickly affects the soothing tones of a beascrafter handling an especially spooked runneer as he repeats, slowly, "Wooooaaaaaah." He brings one hand up to Dee's shoulder, the other reaching up to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. No audible questions are asked, but he regards Dee with an expectant (if still sleepy-eyed) gaze. "Jem!" is squeaked with distinct relief. Dee is on him in half a heartbeat. If this were a game, she'd be tackling him, tagging and scampering off again. But such games have not been in turns, and now, here... Dee is covered in dirt. It's not a lot, but it's not the same as when she works in the gardens where there are streaks here and yon. Instead there is a fine film of the stuff darkening her increasingly paler skin as her Southern tan recedes. She's flinging herself at him, arms trying to wrap around his neck and cling to him. "I'm so glad you're alright!" is breathed in her next. "Jem, the Hold we visited-- to help-- they-- the earth just fell." She leans back at him to stare as if the face she knows nearly as well as her own might somehow help her make sense of the mess she saw. "Jem!" is squeaked with distinct relief. Dee is on him in half a heartbeat. If this were a game, she'd be tackling him, tagging and scampering off again. But such games have not been in turns, and now, here... Dee is covered in dirt. It's not a lot, but it's not the same as when she works in the gardens where there are streaks here and yon. Instead there is a fine film of the stuff darkening her increasingly paler skin as her Southern tan recedes. She's flinging herself at him, arms trying to wrap around his neck and cling to him. "I'm so glad you're alright!" is breathed in her next. "Jem, the Hold we visited-- to help-- they-- the earth just fell." She leans back at him to stare as if the face she knows nearly as well as her own might somehow help her make sense of the mess she saw. Jemizen expells a heavy breath in an audbile 'oof' as Dee flings herself against him. He's quick to wrap his arms around her, muttering some nonsensical, soothing noises in her ear, as if her distress has flicked some sort of Reponsibility Switch inside him. "The earth fell?" Jem holds her out at arm's length, regarding her carefully and suddenly realizing that she isn't covered in the usual Farmer Dirt. "Fuckin' hell! Dee, are you okay? Are you all right? Not injured?" Until he can think of more ways to ask that same question some more he'll just stare at her with wide brown eyes. Dee only realizes she's crying when she's trying to look at Jem and her vision is cloudy. One hand rises to quickly brush away the tears quickly making tracks on her cheeks. "I'm fine. Sort of. I mean, no hurt." How does one explain an injury that goes deeper? "Jem," is serious and with an edge of desperation, "If the Weyr doesn't help them, if someone doesn't help them, they're going to starve. They're already moving to help with the landslide, but what about their gardens? Their beasts? They're going to starve come winter." This distresses Dee, predictably, but to an extreme never yet revealed. Now it's there, in her face, in the grip of her hands on his arms. Jemizen gives Dee's a shoulder's a quick squeeze before one hand reaches toward hers, brushing those tears away. "You're fine? Truly?" It's a good thing he's released her shoulders, otherwise he might have given her a shake. He blinks along with her words, and then his face falls. "Oh, Dee." Quietly--so quietly he would be inaudible if they weren't currently sharing such close quarters: "You can't feed all of Pern." His gaze drops to his boots as one hand returns to her shoulder, the other clenching into a tight fist. "Somebody will help them. They have to." Jem's brown eyes rise, searching their mirrors in his sister's face. "Don't they?" "Dying," Dee repeats for Jem with an audible measure of desperation. "Jem, what if no one does? What if they can't? You've heard them talk, haven't you? About that Lord running away and cleaning out the coffers? About how it was going to be a hard turn for the Weyr? For Fort Hold? I've seen the fields, Jem." She reaches to cover his fist, her expression raw and altogether too readable. "I've gone on the surveys with my Journeymen. Jem-- it's not good. People are going to go hungry. If we can feed them, shouldn't we?" She's begging him to understand her dreams, her want, her irrational need to help, to do something herself. But does he? "They're not going to die." There's an unfamiliar edge to Jem's voice, and a sort of awkward resolve to go along with it. "Dee." He stands up straighter, reaching for her hands, taking one in each of his and squeezing. "We can. We will." The steel in his eyes and his voice indicates even more than his audible emphasis that the 'we' he means is the two of them here in this closet. There's surprise in Dee's hazel gaze when she looks up at Jem. She swallows hard and then... then, she takes a deep breath. She embraces him again, but briefly this time. "We... should..." she debates her next words, "We need to find out what the Weyr is doing. What the Hold is." She looks up at him again, tentatively. "You'll help sort it out?" A pause as she bite her lower lip. "Weyrwoman Lilah met with the Holder. When this is all over..." The rescue, the rest. "We should ask her." One of them, or both of them, together or separately. "But... Jem, we should go help now. They need hands." She tugs his. This is different than all those times she's encouraged him to volunteer himself. This time, the need is real. |
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