six. list & private & spam. hail the pages turning.

[indispensible]

This is rude.

➽ Ben: Comfortable, dressy shoes to dance in
➽ Alana: A slim knife, with a note that I’ll show her how to use it if she likes.
➽ Nathan: Memorable smells from my home – the beer and liquor of our hideout, the perfumes of the balls, ash beaten into a Mistcloak, the smell of metal shavings suspended in liquid. A locket with a picture of her in it.
➽ Beatrix: A glass dagger.
➽ Megamind: A music box, with music and steps from home, if you can do that.
➽ Morgana: A comfortable gown with space in the sleeves for weapons, and a simple circlet.
➽ Kelsier: A gold pocket-watch, with a picture of Mare inside.
➽ Marsh: Fabric, as much as he wants and any kind he wants.
➽ Zane: Things to touch. Pieces of coarse furs, or soft leaves, lamb’s ear, rough bark. Things to remind him who he is when he gets upset.
➽ Stark: A koloss sword
➽ Arya: Ways to conceal weapons – thigh straps, arm straps. Thin, light mail. A key to my cabin, in case she ever needs me.
➽ Dean: Ten pies. They have to stay good until he wakes up and be next to his bed when he does.

private } arya

I want to talk to you.

[Because she feels weird and confused about this holiday, and she wants to beat it up.]

spam } stark

[Vin sends Clifford after Stark, not to monitor his behavior exactly, but to essentially bother him until he gets fed up with it and comes to find her. She has a question, okay.]

open spam } library

[She's looking for information - she's even writing it down. Not about the holidays, all of which frighten and annoy her in ways she can't even begin to articulate, but about dance. She starts with a history, gets frustrated with it, manages not to throw it across the room, and finds a book with more pictures and less history. Reading is still relatively new to her. She doesn't understand why it's harder when she's upset.]

[This is her gift to herself, if everyone is meant to get them: a search for movements that mean as much to other people as hers mean to her. Different ways of learning to speak.]

[Soon enough, she's surrounded by piles of books and half-crumpled papers, with her childish handwriting scrawled across it.]

Comments

private;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

Why?

private;

[indispensible]

I just want to.

[Mulish, childish, and under all of that, most definitely upset, though whether angry, sad, or neither of the above, it's hard to say.]

[She's so bad at reaching out. At least Arya will understand her clumsiness.]

private;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Feelings are hard. And confusing. Arya doesn't care for their complexities.]

Where are you?

private;

[indispensible]

My cabin. But we could go to the CES.

[To run, or fight, or just sit.]

private;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

The CES. Nymeria should hunt.

private ➥ spam;

[indispensible]

There, then.

[She cuts the feed abruptly and fairly runs there. When Arya arrives, she'll find Vin hopping swiftly from one dropped coin to another, rising treetop-height on each leap and being followed by a forlorn and put-upon Clifford.]

spam;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[She doesn't have too long to wait: Arya wrenches the door open and Nymeria races in, pausing when she smells Clifford. It only takes her a few seconds to decide she's not interested: then she's off, hurtling away toward the woods. Arya's not concerned: wolves aren't pets, direwolves least of all.

She runs instead toward Vin and Clifford, squinting up into the sky to spot the former, ignoring the latter.]

spam

[outofclothes]

[It is not that Stark does not like Vin or minds her company that much, but there is something certainly to be said about how nice it is when she leaves him alone to his own devices. Most of these devices are unhealthy vices and isolation, but that's what makes him happy.]

[So, when he sees Clifford on the other side of his door, he exhales sharply and resigns himself to it.]

[Smoking along the way, he just follows Clifford to Vin.]

spam

[indispensible]

[She smells him before she sees him. It's kind of a bad thing, really. He should cloak the smell of his stupid cigarettes.]

[She's in the garden, but heads out of it to meet him, so he doesn't get the smell all over the plants.]

Hi.

spam

[outofclothes]

Hi.

[Stark doesn't care so much about being sneaky. Sneaking requires far more brainpower and thought than he's willing to exert.]

[Usually.]

[Mostly.]

[At any rate, if she brought it up, he would just tell her to be less creepy and stop smelling him because that's weird.]

What's up?

spam

[indispensible]

[She won't. Deal with it.]

[What she will do is shuffle a little awkwardly and then fix Stark with an almost accusatory look.]

I don't like this holiday. [And it is YOUR FAULT, sir.]

spam

[outofclothes]

What do you got against Christmas, Mrs. Grinch?

[Look, he didn't do it for a change, okay.]

spam

[indispensible]

I don't like the story.

[She shifts her feet, looks away.]

It reminds me of Kelsier. All of the explanations sound like Kelsier.

library spam

[strangehistorian]

[Chromie pops up almost silently, anywhere you go in the library - in this case, near Vin's table when she looks like she's at a good break point.]

Hi there!

[indispensible]

[She is, in fact, at a great break point, because she's becoming frustrated enough with the small words that she's about to throw a book across the room. She greet Chromie with a tired smile.]

Hello. [She rests her chin in her hand.] How are you?

[strangehistorian]

I'm doing great!

[Her inmate is awake! :D]

How are you?

[indispensible]

I'm - all right. [Her eyes are a little crossed from reading so much, but overall, could be worse.]

[She tips her head slightly.]

You're always cheerful. But you seem more cheerful than usual.

[strangehistorian]

My inmate finally woke up. I can get back to my job here! She really deserves a second chance.

[indispensible]

Oh. [She looks up, trying to remember--] Touko. Isn't it? I don't really know her.

Library spam!

[mercurialize]

[There's a short and relatively quiet whistle sounded as Kylar peers through the piles of books and papers.]

Got enough books there?

[indispensible]

[That's the kind of thing people used to say to Elend. That probably means she's on the right track, or at least adjacent to the right track. Research techniques never made much sense to her.]

[She barely glances up at him, then rolls her eyes.]

I don't know. Do I?

[mercurialize]

[He'll rub his chin, exaggerating his consideration to her question.]

Well, that all depends. What are all of these books for?

[He'll inspect the bindings from some of the piles for titles, lifting and shifting some of the books and papers to do so. At least he'll try not to let anything tumble or become too displaced.]

[indispensible]

Research.

[She goes back to flipping pages. Then, after equally exaggerated consideration:]

On a subject.

[Some subject. Or something.]

[mercurialize]

You don't say.

[You could just tell him to shoo, but since it seems you don't mind...]

Find anything interesting on the subject so far?

[indispensible]

I think so. It's hard to say this early.

[She turns a few more pages, then frowns.]

Isn't salsa a type of food?