river_meimei | (no subject)

"You're monitoring," River says seriously, and possibly in greeting.

She turns another M&M over between her fingers, absently exploring.

"Hi," she adds.

Rueful: "Not as well as I thought I was, I guess." She props her chin on one hand. "What's up?"

She's only talked to River Tam a couple of times, but she's kind of hard to forget.

"Me too."

"It's a collaborative effort."

She looks curious. "What are you monitoring?"

"You can't see him." River says this earnestly, seriously -- as if she intends this to be a useful answer to a colleague.

"That's the point."

Nita blinks. The first thing she thinks of is

(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."

"We'll find out," says River, with a quick half-smile. It lights her face like a secret, just for an instant.

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.

Huh.

"Okay."

Nita watches her walk, wondering if that's the end of the conversation.

There's a booth against that wall. Rafter to booth back to bench to floor -- an easy stepladder.

River still brushes fingers along solid wood, stretches pointed toes down toward each surface she steps onto, sways into her upright posture just a bit when she reaches the floor. It doesn't look so much as if she's uncertain of her balance, but as if she's double-checking that everything else has stayed put around her.

From there, the same unhurried steps carry her towards Nita's table. Apparently the conversation is still ongoing.

Evidently.

. . . The way River moves is kind of fascinating.

Nita closes her manual and nudges the other chair out with her foot in invitation.

She's a creature of extraordinary grace! And wacky fun hallucinations, also.

River glances at the chair, apparently surprised by its existence, and then ghosts a hand along the back before she drops into the seat.

"I can hear," she explains, choosing each word with care, although it's very possible that only River thinks this is a clear explanation.

"It's a relay. Through the commlines."

"Who--?"

She blinks, stops herself.

"Okay. Go on."

This feels important -- which means she'll have to figure out the logic eventually, but interrupting won't help that. She can ask questions later.

"Secret," River says softly.

"They listen at the keyholes."

"I won't tell."

I know THAT, says River's face impatiently.

"I'm telling you."

"--Sorry. I'm listening."

River's fingertips press against the edge of the table. She looks a little frustrated -- not a lot, but it's creeping around the edges.

"I know it."

"The line's not secure. Passive monitoring is an ongoing concern."

"--Wait, you mean down here? Would you like to go somewhere quieter?"

"Safer," River says softly.

She looks intent, serious, focused -- not scared.

"Would my room work?"

"You tell me," River says, but she nods right afterward.

"It ought to." She gathers up her manual. "And I can set up any wards you think we might need."

River's grin flashes, and as always it changes the whole look of her face. "It's a deal."

It's infectious; Nita grins right back.

"C'mon up, then."

Room 63 is conveniently nearby, on the first floor up. Peach doesn't live in there anymore, but the furniture shows signs that she once did. Technically Nita doesn't live here at the moment, either, but there's some detritus on the desk -- papers, pens, a couple of books -- that suggests she's been up here recently.

There's also garlic hanging over the door.

"Should I soundproof the door?" Nita asks, as she shuts it behind them.

"It's a safeguard."

So that's a 'yes, if you would be so kind.'