Logs:Jo's Padawan
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| RL Date: 5 July, 2013 |
| Who: Rasavyth, K'zin, Jo, Tacuseth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo gains one bronzeriding padawan. |
| Where: Jo's HideOut Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 3, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Z'ian/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Ildal/Mentions, F'manis/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated, played in two parts plus some gdocs. |
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| Jo's HideOut Weyr, High Reaches Weyr With the rock being a burnished grey, the inner portion of the weyr appears almost cavernous when it's not. Past the heavy deep blue drapery that separates weyr from ledge, the sunken floor looks polished smooth, as if it has been blown like glass. Few cracks marr its surface, giving it a nice contrast to the slightly rocky walls. The backmost wall has niches carved deeply into them, giving way to empty shelves and holders. Whatever's left belongs to the very large map that depicts in sheer detail the whole area and mountains of the High Reaches, including its holds, crafts, and the position of the Weyr. The leftmost wall is riddled with hollowed-out crates turned sideways, giving the impression of a vintner's wall of wine. Very little of the bottles can be seen, giving the area a very desolate feel. A light-weight, deep brown desk takes up space before the large map with a stack of blank hides, writing stylus and a glow basket to top it. The large white-sheet bed was pushed to the rightmost wall along with some shelving. A rug occupies this portion of the floor, along with a painting depicting a wintry landscape hung up on the wall. At the foot of the bed are three tool hangers sticking out of the wall, currently being used by a worn-looking riding jacket, riding straps, and a riding helmet.
Late, late into the night is the usual time when one can catch one nicked and scratched blue blinking in from Between. Tacuseth's presence is like the coming fog, his shadows permeating the ledge as he lands. « Rasavyth! » he calls, perhaps in surprise to find the weyrling dragon there on his ledge. Since the ledge is big enough for both, he settles down before Jo is dismounting and then pausing only long enough to pull her riding helmet and goggles off to view Rasavyth properly. Then she turns for her weyr, only to find his rider fast asleep in her no-longer made-up bed. Hanging up her gear and unfastening down her black leather jacket, she slowly approaches her bed and nearly trips over a wayward boot that was in her path. That she catches herself barely in time has her swearing loudly. "I'm gone for a day, and I come home to find a weyrlin' in my bed," she's tossing out to no one in particular, but at least the loud curse might have alerted K'zin that he was no longer alone in the small weyr. Rasavyth, by contrast to his rider, is awake. Wide awake. In point of fact, as Tacuseth reaches for the bronze's mind, his shadow is met with an over-whelming level of excitement from the mirrored crowd. Voices hooting, hollering and generally making a ruckus. Banners are in abundance and all are snapping with energy. Everything's oozy, of course, shimmers twinkling brightly. Rasavyth's tenor is just as light, eager, « I'm sorry I didn't warn you and your Jo that we were here, but he wished not to disturb you on your traveling, and I wished not to accidentally dissuade him from his goal. » It's ever so exciting of a goal, you see? The bronze can't help it. He wiggles as he shifts to warble at the shadowy blue. It's night and day from the manner when they last bespoke at length. It was Jo's curse, or maybe Rasavyth's swell of excitement that has K'zin jumping into wakefulness, his eyes panicked as they dart around the room, the man pushing his torso up off the bed and looking around. For a moment, he obviously doesn't know where he is and then his eyes catch on Jo and he seems to remember where he is and what he was about. "There are worse people to find in your bed, I'm sure." He answers the words he caught, though it's delayed to after a yawn, and he's flopping back. "Besides, it's not like you've not unexpectedly ended up in mine before." See? Fair's fair. "Late at night, even. What time is it?" The excitement from the bronze is certainly unexpected. Tacuseth weaves his crowd's tenor, his shadows through it as he sends, « Goal? » right back in interest. Rasavyth's excitement is infectious though, his own spirits riding on the waves of that is the weyrling's. One fist going to her hip, meanwhile, "I was briefly in yer bed to scare ya half-witless, and, I certainly wasn' makin' myself at home," Jo points out pointedly before she snorts and shakes her head. "I suppose me sayin' 'make yerself at home' is moot at this point? It's late," she answers him now, looking towards the ledge where the sky can be seen. "Late enough for good little weyrlins' to be safe and sound in their own beds with visions of what trouble they want to cause the next day, dancin' in their heads." It's all deadpan, even. Peeling the jacket off herself now and moving towards the map wall where she can hang it up, "I see ya and yer dragon have come to some sort of reconciliation," she notes now, passing him a look that alludes to how they parted the last time they saw each other. Rasavyth wiggles, but does not answer, the sensation being that this once he has to let K'zin be the one to do the telling. The source of the excitement becomes clearer though as the weyrling begins to explain to Jo: it's hope. K'zin rolls his eyes at her protestation, sitting the rest of the way up and sliding off the bed to stand, "Well, fine, Jo. No one ever said you had to have me in your bed if you didn't want me there. You were just gone so long." Woe. He rounds to the end of the bed, his own hands settling on his hips. "Maybe I'm not a good little weyrling," Maybe. "And not really, no. We've been working together, since, as you said, we're stuck with each other, and some days are worse than others," A pause, "But." He shifts slightly though his hands don't leave where they've settled, "You said he can see the world clearly, Jo." Well, something like that. "Made it sound like you see things the same way." Then to the point, "I want you to show me." Snorting with her arms folding across her chest, "I don' care where ya land yerself," she notes in return, turning to lean back against the desk. "It's just a shame by now that ya still haven' learned that I aim to push other people's buttons when I've an aim to. Ya make it too easy." Lips quirk at that, but then she falls silent to what all he says next. It's hard to detect any expression on her face, the woman seeming to merely regard him as he answers on his and Rasavyth's bond. Towards the end, after his request, the convict rider is taking a long look at him before she straightens up and turns to bend around to the side of the desk and pulls out a flask. Flipping the lid with one hand, "He can," she finally answers succinctly, nodding towards the ledge as she turns back with the flask and takes a drink before lifting it in offering to him. "Some things can' be shown," Jo states now. "It must be experienced. That view, though, it's not a popular one. It'll make ya unpopular, believin' it." She looks K'zin over slowly, from his feet on up towards his eyes as she adds, "And ya care too much," quietly. "It's very hard to see the world that way, and care too much, too. Despite certain lifemates that believe the way they do," and she passes a look towards Rasavyth, "I question yer motives due to our past conversations." "No. He can't." K'zin answers, his tone even, not dissuaded by the initial decline to his request. "He can share with me what he believes and why, but for him it's a matter of it being in him. He's known it since he shelled. He's never seen the proof, he just knows. The certainty qualifies as unnerving. But I don't just know. I want to see the world. He doesn't know where to take me to show me proof of what he believes." He approaches Jo, coming to stand toe to toe with her, looking down, "You do. I won't get in the way. You can have my balls for a necklace if I breath a word of any of what you show me, and he can make sure of that if you don't trust me," Trust is such a touchy thing. "I'm not the same man I was a month ago. I've seen more of the world, but not enough." His gaze is extremely intent, "I want you to show me the dark side of life, the side that lets me put the rest into his perspective. I grew up good, happy. Mostly. The worst that's ever happened to me is a beating gone too far and a family abandoning me. I don't see the world as you both do. But I want to see what you both know with such conviction. Because maybe I would, if I did." Are his motives obvious now? There's no sense that he's trying to hide them, in fact, his expression is an open book. Jo can ask him anything in this moment and there'll be no false word awarded her. That sense is shared to Tacuseth. K'zin is serious, and Rasavyth... is hopeful. "Not exactly sure where ya can go to see this 'proof', either," Jo admits, shaking her head. Once K'zin stands before her, a brow lifts at his proposal, chin lifting at him through his words. Then, quietly, the dark glint in her eyes, "First of all, I haven' a clue what ya mean about the dark side of life," denial is readily on her lips like it's a mantra, but she tacks on right behind it, "What can I show ya, K'zin? How to survive the mines? How not to get yer throat cut? How the fact that it seemed as though every single person I ever trusted fucked me over and didn' care whether I lived or died?" Stepping to him, right into his personal space, "That side yer callin' 'dark'? Ya don' want none of that," she states with certainty. "It will tear ya down and leave ya in pieces. Only the ones that stop givin' a shit about where they end up find ways to put those pieces right back together. Makes ya distrust many that pass ya by. Makes ya question the motives of everyone. It makes ya willin' to do things that these folks 'round here?" she jerks a chin back, indicating the Weyr at large, "They wouldn' have the mind to," she finishes. "What ya ask," she says now, turning from him, "may take time. May not end up bein' from me. I didn' ask for the life I have, and Jolie of Keogh hold certainly wouldn' be in yer boots, askin' to be shown such a view." Taking a drink from the flask, "Yer trust will be tested," she adds wryly as she approaches him. "Just so ya know...I'm not above makin' ya bleed." Warnings are couched with the same promise as her innuendos in the past. There's no difference with this woman, evidently. K'zin listens. His attention is clear. For those familiar with the intensity of his lifemate's mind, the way Rasavyth will examine a new piece of information given him, and then copy it for later, deeper study, they might recognize in K'zin his version of this behavior. He listens, takes it in, as though each word is memorized as part of the whole and on its own merit. By the end, he doesn't hear no, but 'maybe', even leaning toward yes. He doesn't make it complicated, "I don't expect you to have all the answers. Or know all I'd need to see. But you see the world the way he does, or think you do." He draws in a breath, slowly, not shrinking in the least from her invasion of his personal space, he practically did the same to her, only not quite so intimately, "But show me what you can. I'll never breathe a word of it. I'll tell you if it becomes too much for me. He will. He'll know." A beat as he stares evenly down, brown eyes to brown, "Teach me to see." « For he is blind. » comes Rasavyth's whisper. Hopefully Tacuseth has been keeping up with the conversation. Chuckling at something said, "People are to be manipulated to reach yer goal," Jo states that as if she were quoting someone else. "This is what yer Rasavyth believes, right? That, ya do what ya must if it brings ya closer to where ya need to be. To where ya want to be. Tac tells me everythin' he's told," she goes on to say casually. "I hear it all. His view is not uncommon. Play the 'game' right, and it will gives ya plenty. But, there's always that risk. Ya know. Losin' friends, losin' the game.even losin' yer life." She lets that sink in before she adds, "Yer right, I don' have all the answers. Don' even know if what I say is the way of it. I've seen both sides of the law, though, comin' from guards. As for it becomin' too much for ya," there's a pause to that one, laughter and drinking and a shake of her head, "Well. If it does get to that point, and ya suspect that it might, step away as quickly as ya can before there's no goin' back." Looking him dead in the face, "Bein' a dragonrider doesn' mean yer immune to really bad things happenin' to ya." After a pause, "Ya know where ya wanna end up in this Weyr?" she asks now after a moment. "A wingleader? Weyrsecond? Even Weyrleader?" « It will be difficult, » Tacuseth send to Rasavyth, indeed having been listening. « We are mostly gone. Beyond always call. It will give him time to learn what he sees. » The bob of K'zin's Adam's apple when Jo spells out what his dragon believes betrays the man's continued discomfort with the idea, but there's a nod to confirm the belief. "I'm not sure I have anything to lose at this point," The bronzerider says after a long moment of consideration. "Friends are..." He shrugs, so much has changed. "The lovers I did have were either fleeting or-- busy, or --" Then he's blushing, "Anyway, I've been distracted." But K'zin's bed-life or lack thereof is hardly the point he's trying to make, "And I've got no family, real or fake, to give a care one way or the other." He doesn't say it, but there is an exception that briefly flits across his face. "I know I'm not immune. I'm a man. Like any other man. If I die, he dies. So I'd best not die." Rasavyth silently echoes the sentiment. The advice she gives about stepping away is assented to with a firm, one motion nod. The man's eyes stray to the ledge. "His aim is pretty simple. Power." Such a little word for such a wide-reaching concept. "I don't know that we even need too be Weyrleader to have power, just... the one with the Weyrleader's ear. Although, I think ultimately, Weyrleader. Power on the Council. More, maybe, if the world changes." There's a wry smile then, "DragonLord, he calls it. Had me title the game I made for the training cavern that way. Who knows what will happen. I know nothing will if I can't at least try to see where he's coming from and I don't know enough of the world," His head tilts down a little bit to refocus his gaze on Jo. Because, of course, this is where Jo comes in. « It will. » Rasavyth acknowledges soberly. « He knows it will, though not how greatly, I think. » But can one ever know that when asking this? « I... appreciate that he is trying. I thank you and yours for listening to him, and for-- whatever helping you may do. » "Friends are...?" Jo prompts for more, echoing him. As for lovers, there's a slight smirk on that one as she comments back, "Fleetin' lovers come and go. Ya'll know which ones are worth stickin' around for. Ya were more care-free, before all of this." An observation, perhaps of the bronze weyrling that she scared half to death in his own bed, or the one that would talk of drawing naked girls. Continuing on, "Best not die," she echoes the sentiment now, nodding. "Even when ya take risks. Yer on a mission, that much I can tell. Ya never told me how yer hunt into the records room is goin'." Something he says on power seems to resonate with the convict rider, however, for there's an approving smile given as if such words were not expected to come from K'zin's mouth. "Power isn' in becomin' Weyrleader," she seems to wholeheartedly agree. "Change doesn't come from bein' Weyrleader. Weyrleaders can be manipulated. Can be swayed with the right words, the right moves, and the right touch. A mere lower caverns girl can rule an entire Weyr if she touched a Weyrleader just right. If she knows the right thing to say, when to say it and how to say it. Ya see it in Holds. The Weyr is no different. Talent can be a dangerous power," she states with a brief raise of her flask, "Whether yer a dragonrider or not. So yer right. But, there is usefulness in becomin' Weyrleader. Certain paths blocked to one like me would be opened to one like you. Those restricted records yer certain exist....ya wouldn' have to break in if ya had free access to the key." Overall, though, "Manipulation isn' a bad thing with an end goal," this convict rider says. "Imagine all that Taikrin could have accomplished if she had placed her energy in swayin' the likes of K'del and F'manis, in findin' ways to compromise or at least appear to, instead of wastin' time tryin' to prove that she was Weyrleader to these people. She already had the title. Things to think about," for him. « It is good to see many different views, » Tacuseth's mind voice blends into that of his rider's, sending it to Rasavyth. « See the sunlight. See the shadows. That is the only way yers will find his place in between. My Jo will make him think, and make him see, at least. » The rest, was up to the pair. There's a frown from K'zin as Jo prompts on the note of friendship. He has nothing but a shrug, "Lots of changes. People grow apart. I'd say you're the closest thing I have to a friend right now. You and Mads. Everything with everyone else is complicated. And it's complicated with you and Mads too." Just in case for one moment Jo thought K'zin didn't think so. "Don't press for the details you're not willing to give about your friendships." The bronzerider warns. He might answer her further, but he'll expect tit for tat then. There's lots of nodding for everything else she says. Some the kind to indicate agreement, others the 'following along' nods. But he's silent as she speaks and proves himself at least capable of being a student. "I think you raise a good point about Taikrin." It's more agreement, which isn't, likely, as interesting as his next words: "The records exist. In the locked room in the records room. The Weyrleader and Weyrwoman have access. And the senior record keeper. I'm working on it, but..." He frowns, "I'm pretty new to this, and the complications are pretty extensive." But! He reaches inside the riding jacket he never took off and pulls from an inner pocket her set of tools, "Made myself a set, using yours as the template. Thought I'd get them back sooner to you that way." And then he'd have a set of picks for himself, but surely that wasn't his intention all along, right? « That is all I hope for. » Rasavyth's answer is soft, the excitement now contained, making his ooze luminous as it translates itself as sweat on the brow, « He has it in him to see and to decide for himself, but he must be shown before he can see. Your Jo and I, together, will make him think. » The bronze didn't choose K'zin as a pure puppet, but a partner. "I'd be worried if I were yer only friend, if I were ya," Jo states before giving over to a snicker. "As for my friendships," and there's a light shrug for them, "I've never kept many. The ones that matter stick around. The ones that don' care about who I am." She nods when K'zin seems adamant on the records existing, and when he pulls out the set of tools given over before she reaches for them and says, "Thanks," in a wry tone. « He has re-bonded with ya, » Tacuseth makes the observation, the sense of harmony flowing between the weyrling pair evident. « Then all will fall into place. Ya'll see. » In time, of course, but he doesn't need to tell the bronze that. In any case he is sharing in the other's excitement. "I'm pretty sure that would put me on some kind of Healer Watch List." K'zin quips in agreeing answer, his tone teasing. "So I guess it's good that Mads is my other friend. She can watch for signs that I'm going insane." He's joking right? It's a dangerous sort of humor given what they've been speaking of, what's happened between he and Rasavyth, but perhaps to look on the bright side: at least he's keeping a sense of humor about it all. As he she didn't press him for more information on his friends, neither does he her. He steps out of her personal space then, glancing toward her bed and then back at the ledge, "Well, it's late. So unless my education starts now... I'll see you when it does?" One more step, and the bronzerider seems to remember something, "Oh, and Jo? I'm ready to sell my art. Would you work your magic?" Set up the meet with the buyer, so on. "I've got a portfolio ready." The dragon rumbles warmly to the blue, his ooze going from oozy to glossy in his new calm that's mingled with happiness and a sense of security that hasn't been for too long. « Her acceptance has helped. Please, be sure she knows how grateful I am. » He is oh-so-grateful. He'd go so far as to share the sensation that he owes her one. "Guess it is," Jo's amused enough to counter on friends, nodding. "We wouldn' want one of our weyrlins' goin' insane so soon in their young life." Right? She watches him all the same now, following his glance towards her bed, then regards his face before he speaks again. One of her lopsided grins appear for him on starting education that late at night, the woman saying, "At this time of night, ya'll be gettin' a whole different kind of education," in obvious murmured tease. "All the same, though, yeah. I'll catcha around, darlin'. I'll go see Ildal about sellin' yer art, too while I'm out. Next time, let me check out yer portfolio." She stops up the flask and sets it aside, signaling an end to the impromptu meeting. As for Tacuseth, he sends Rasavyth the shadowed warmth of the gladiator sands, and of friendship. « Someone openin' their eyes, she is more than happy to see-through, » he sends back with the calm of harmony between him and his rider. « She knows. We are ever the patrons of ambition. » As in, Rasavyth has always left a good impression on the convict pair. His rider, perhaps, has the same potential. Something Jo says has K'zin lingering, look rueful. "I'd imagine I'd benefit from that kind of education as well. Tela..." He starts and then shakes his head, "She can tell you all about it if she like. You know. As pillow talk." His look is briefly knowing, and wicked. Can he make Jo blush? Is this the sort of thing that would? "Come by anytime to see the portfolio. As you might guess, I'm not often engaged late at night anymore. I think you'll like what you see. I've applied everything I've learned." Rasavyth's current of gratitude, warmth, excitement and happiness continues to transmit through the link between dragons, but the bronze ha nothing verbal to express at this moment. Brow lifts at K'zin, and there's definitely no blushing from Jo. Arms folding as she leans lazily against her own desk, "So sure me and Telavi are fuckin'?" she drawls the words, deliberately crass to the letter. "Even if we weren', ya'd still fantasize that we were, won' ya?" Rhetorical at best, the smirk is well knowing anyway before she adds, "If I wanna know though, somethin' tells me I'm better off askin' you. I'm out most nights, but, should get a moment to breathe after sweeps or a late dinner...." he knows the rest. "Hell yes." K'zin answers with a grin. Whether it's to the first or to the second question, he doesn't say, but there's something in the sudden levity in his voice, the way his smile blossoms and reaches all the way to his eyes that is reminiscent of that more care-free man Jo observed him as getting away from earlier in the conversation. "Actually, it might help my performance if I did that." So there's a clue, "I guess that means Tela plays games with you, too, when you want to know something." Otherwise, why would Jo say she'd be better off asking him. Snorting, but amused nonetheless with him, "I thought ya weren' gettin' any anymore," Jo is more than happy to point out, it seems, and eagerly. "And, I don' ask Tela about everythin that goes on in her life. Her sex life. Ya just wish I did, cuz then we'd be talkin' about you. What an ego. Fittin' so well into yer bronzeridin' role already." Yes, she's enjoying herself in goading him, the smile growing with each pronouncement. "Anyway, I'd ask ya since yer the source. I try to hit the source as much as I can. Thought ya two were tight, anyway. Suppose she's one of the ones ya drifted away from in yer new stage of enlightenment?" "I'm not, but I'd definitely be on some Healer Watch List for insanity if I could honestly say I wasn't interested in getting more." K'zin answers, not letting her win a blush from him this time. "Oh yeah," This coming deadpan, "You know us bronzers. Can't get enough of people talking about us. Though, I've had my fill for the month. After I punched K'del in Snowasis, I had all kinds of tongues wagging about me. Did you know there were some that wanted to shake my hand?" The younger bronzerider sounds disgusted. The disgust more easily turns to something less definable, something edged with sadness, "Yeah, sort of. We were sort of growing apart before that. Haven't-- really felt myself since I was in the infirmary for all that time. Maybe Madilla re-wired my brain while I was on all those cough meds. Saw her the other day, outside of wing stuff, though. Cried in front of her. I don't think that helped my case." He sighs lightly. They've drifted from his whole point in coming, but then, he did say Jo might count as one of his only friends at the moment. "Punch....K'del?" Maybe Jo didn't hear about this one, and she's looking expectantly at him. "What happened for all that? Cuz of the records yer wantin' so bad?" And then, she's intrigued. She's regarding K'zin very closely now, studying him anew. She turns to the topic of the green weyrling though a bit more soberly, inclining her head to all that he says of them growing apart. "Sucks to hear. Maybe it's just a temporary thing. It happens, ya know. Grow apart, grow back together..." and there's a light roll of one shoulder for that. "But I agree. No one likes to see a bronzerider cry. Even a weyrlin' one." That's maybe a tease, but she does tack on after it, "It happens, darlin'. Can' tell ya how I've grown apart from. I hardly even see those from my clutch, save for the three. Get busy enough, ya hardly even notice it anymore." So encouraging. "Kinda. I guess." K'zin's suddenly a little reticent, his cheeks touching with an embarrassed blush. "It was more about me being three sheets to the wind and him saying some hypocritical bullshit about how he wouldn't want to be told what to do, or have to obey like dragons do their Weyrwoman and Weyrleader dragons. And I said something about how it would suck to be told what to do all the time... You know, like weyrlings are," He reaches up to push a hand through his hair, flicking a few dark strands out of his line of sight. "And how it would suck to be told you couldn't know something, and then he made a crack about me and Ras being Weyrleader and how awful that would be, and I called him a Weyrleader Wannabe, and then I punched him." It's not a particularly poetic retelling, just how K'zin saw it go down. "He didn't swing at me. Just cut me off at the bar and left." For Tela, his expression shifts to rueful again. "Yeah. You never know, I guess. Some women might find making a bronzerider cry kinda hot. Or at least satisfying. Depending on the person in question and the bronzerider." Aishani. K'del. Except disappointingly, but unknowingly not. K'zin's retelling has Jo trying to follow it, but in the end she does say, "Weyrleader wannabe. He was Weyrleader when I was a candidate here, back in the day. I imagine ya sayin' that didn't go down well with him, but then, he wasn' the one that swung. Turnin' into such a rebel, aren' we?" Brows lift and fall at him, shaking her head before she chuckles shortly and says on women, "We are such unpredictable things. Even I struggle in navigatin' the waters of a female. Ya should get some sleep, though." She jerks her chin towards the ledge now, unfolding her arms. "Ya'll blame me for unsatisfactorily keepin' ya up so late at night. Get yer sleep and I'm sure, we'll talk again soon." There's a hint of a wince on K'zin's features as Jo comments on K'zin's choice of mud-slung phrasing, simply giving a nod. "He's the only Weyrleader I'd ever known until Taikrin. I used to think there should never be any but him." But that's changed now. Still, he's not staying to chat about this point. "Glad to know I'm not alone." About women. "Night Jo." Plain, sweet, and simple. Then he's off, collecting his boots from the bag in the straps on Rasavyth and shoving them on before climbing up onto his lifemate's neckridges. He doesn't even bother to tie them. Walking on the wild-side already. "Used to," Jo picks out that particular phrase with interest. That's all she says, in perhaps confirmation to the realizations that K'zin had. She nods to him on women, but gives him a lazy salute when he bids her goodnight and heads out towards the ledge. "Dream well, K'zin," she sends in return, watching him leave out of her weyr before she turns towards her large mapped wall for a moment and then continue on with her activities of retiring for the night. |
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Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 07 Jul 2013 07:33:42 GMT.
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So many people come to Jo for advise, for perspective, for options. ^^
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