River Tam (
river_meimei) wrote2010-01-02 02:18 am
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The rafters have a few advantages.
They're comfortable, for one thing! (If you're River Tam.) And interesting. And sometimes you find candy. And they provide a fun change of perspective.
And sometimes they're a good way to find people.
They're comfortable, for one thing! (If you're River Tam.) And interesting. And sometimes you find candy. And they provide a fun change of perspective.
And sometimes they're a good way to find people.
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(Nita's got garlic in one pocket and a cross in another, okay? There's only so much vigilance she can handle.)
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There was candy stashed away in a crook of the rafters. River has appropriated it, and now there's an M&M heading for the tabletop in front of Nita.
(It's aimed to miss Nita's drink, if she has one. Because River is nice.)
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She's also peering down at Nita.
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". . . Hi."
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She turns another M&M over between her fingers, absently exploring.
"Hi," she adds.
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She's only talked to River Tam a couple of times, but she's kind of hard to forget.
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"It's a collaborative effort."
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"That's the point."
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(ne'er was a dream So like a waking)
her functionally invisible attacker. (If you can't remember a face, you may as well never have seen it at all.)
"You can't see what you're monitoring? That must make things difficult."
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She lets one leg drop down alongside the rafter, and turns the momentum of that leg-swing into a smooth uncurling that carries her to her feet. River's short, and the ceiling is high; she can stand even here, and walk in small careful steps towards the wall nearest to Nita's table.
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"Okay."
Nita watches her walk, wondering if that's the end of the conversation.
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Like reading in the comparitive dark, which what Havelock is doing at the moment; sitting comfortably against one rafter, legs extended along another, and altogether blending in quite nicely.
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That doesn't seem to bother her, however. She rests her cheek on one updrawn knee, studying Havelock. Waiting, perhaps.
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Then he nods in polite recognition.
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Then she uncoils and rises to her feet in one unselfconsciously graceful motion, and begins pacing along the rafter towards Havelock's shadowed corner. She's barefoot, and her toes spread against rough-sanded wood; it's easy to balance this way, and to be silent.
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It's both familiar, and not, from watching his fellow students at the Guild. Moving in shadow, they are always holding themselves tense and alert for danger or competition so that sometimes, against all logic, they are more obvious. It would be very easy, he thinks, for the eye to slide past River if she wanted it to.
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But it doesn't, in this moment, have that flair. Havelock isn't wrong.
She paces down the rafter towards him. A yard or so from his outstretched foot, she crouches comfortably down on one knee, folding forward to rest her palms against wood.
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They haven't spoken that often, all things considered, but enough for Havelock to know that River will get around to what she wants to say in her own time. There's still no reason not to be polite and make a start on a conversation.
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"I have," she says carefully, paying attention to each word as she pronounces it, "a message."
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(It's something in a language that looks something like Arabic, but isn't. Language Masters don't just earn themselves.)
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Softly, "People listen."
That's not the message.
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He doesn't glance away, but looks politely inquiring.
"Would it be preferable if they did not?"
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