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

[strangehistorian]

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

spam

[outofclothes]

[Stark frowns.]

Okay, the creepy watching you all the time thing I can get. But Kelsier judges the kids of the world, eats cookies, drinks milk, and walks around in a red suit?

[Why yes, he's being a smartass. This is what happens when you remove Stark from his natural habitat and into the field of emotions and sadness.]

[mercurialize]

[He'll take a look, it's no dance he's familiar with.]

I've never heard of either.

[He'll curve a smile]

Maybe the person who thought up the dance was hungry at the time. Or his favorite food was this other salsa. The name doesn't really matter, does it?

[indispensible]

[Vin purses her lips.]

Names matter. Everything matters somehow.

Anyway, it looks complicated. [She has to figure out how to do it. Or at least commit it to memory.]

[indispensible]

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

spam

[indispensible]

No.

[She folds her arms, still not looking at him.]

Not the - man in the suit. The one who died for God. That one reminds me of Kelsier.

I hate it.

[She can't really explain why she's telling Stark this. It's not like he's good at comfort. But she doesn't know who else to tell.]

spam;

[indispensible]

[Her landing isn't as graceful as it usually is - she doesn't stumble, but she does have to take a few steps to steady herself. She looks at Arya critically, Clifford trotting up behind her.]

Do you celebrate something? In winter. Where you're from.

spam;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

I've never seen winter. [One of too many sweet summer children: they all learned soon enough what the Stark words really mean.] Autumn was ending when I was brought here.

[mercurialize]

[Those words bother him, being most accurately called Nameless himself. Outwardly, he only shrugs.]

Let me see that?

[He doesn't really wait, and instead picks up the book and begins flipping through pages. He'll think on it. Dancing is like fighting in his head, it's all about foot work and balance. Holding the book out, he'll start stepping slowly and awkwardly to the diagrams and then pick up his pace until it's in solid repetition.]

Something like... this?

spam

[outofclothes]

[Stark really isn't sure why she's coming to him about this either. Why not just go directly to Kelsier and tell him? It seems more like something Vin would do anyway.]

[If it was anybody else except Kelsier.]

[Stark sighs.]

Well, I can't exactly make Jesus go away, Vin. Or Christmas for that matter. The most I can suggest is either focus on the fat guy with the suit or shut it out of your mind. With alcohol if that helps.

[See? Not good at this. But he is trying.]

I mean, there's more to Christmas than Jesus anyway. All that goodwill bullshit and giving each other presents. It kinda stole from Thanksgiving with that whole be grateful for shit thing, too.

spam;

[indispensible]

Oh.

Do you. Do you celebrate anything? We never really did, before.

[indispensible]

[She watches him, skeptical at first and then becoming increasingly convinced that he's actually figuring this out. Once he's picked up tempo, she's smiling, very hesitantly.]

Something like it . . .

[She pulls the book back toward herself, scrutinizing the steps on the pages and the movements he's making. Okay, it's actually really good. What the heck.]

Very like it. How'd you do that?

spam

[indispensible]

[If it was anybody but Kelsier, she'd tell them to their faces. She wouldn't be this upset if it was anyone but Kelsier. If it was anybody but Kelsier, in fact, she'd probably be able to deal with it on her own.]

[But it's not anybody else. It's him. And she doesn't like being reminded about how he died anymore than she has to be.]

[Her facial expression is currently the rough equivalent of why can't you?, but at least she's listening. The suggestion of goodwill and gifts just makes her scowl more.]

I never knew anybody with gifts to give at any time of year. Nobody worth knowing, at least, not until I was grown. It seems stupid.

[Nothing to be grateful for, either, frankly. She sighs.]

What kind of alcohol? [She gives up.]

spam

[outofclothes]

[Stark can't say he disagrees with her. On any front. Especially the one she's not saying out loud.]

Whatever you can stomach that gets you drunk as quickly as possible.

[He is the expert on this method though there is notable bitching in his head over it in general. Stark knows he's a terrible influence without an angel giving his input.]

[mercurialize]

[His dancing slows until it comes to a halt. Hopefully buying him some time to answer. He can't very well say, 'I've been trained to memorize everything I see or hear the first time it's seen or said.' That could lead to questions, so he'll shrug instead.]

I don't know. The pictures are right there, though. You give it a try.

spam

[indispensible]

You pick. I've got a strong stomach. Almost as strong as yours.

[indispensible]

[She squints at the pictures suspiciously, then shakes her head.]

In a minute. Let me watch you one more time.

[mercurialize]

[With a shrug he'll begin repeating the steps again, this time with more fluidity than before.]

Just focus on your feet, then the rest is pretty simple.

spam

[outofclothes]

[Stark pats her shoulder.]

Okay, Vincesca. Let's get you some of the black stuff.

[He's not really sure if she can stomach it. But no doubt she'll make an honest effort. And it'll get her drunk faster.]

[Plus, it's making the angel in his head huffy. Win-win for everyone.]

spam;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[She shrugs, peering up at Vin a little curiously.]

Name days. And people celebrate harvests. And there's Maiden's Day, and the other Seven. Why? You don't celebrate anything?

[strangehistorian]

Yes, Touko. She tends to keep to herself.

spam

[indispensible]

Fine.

[She walks unusually close to him; while she usually keeps a distance of at least a meter and a half, she's easily half that far away now. Stark is not dependable or kind or particularly sane, but she still feels more secure being close to him than being far away.]

[No hugs this time, though. She did promise.]

spam;

[indispensible]

The skaa never did. Not until Kelsier died, and then they celebrated that.

[It was super dumb, Arya. She pulls a coin out of her pocket and shoots it at a tree trunk.]

spam;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[A shrug.] People celebrate dumb things.

[It's a good thing to know, but she keeps that part to herself.]

You're upset.

spam

[outofclothes]

[The lack of hugs is a good thing. Stark's still not a fan of those. But he knows that Vin knows that if she was really that desperate for one, she could do it and he'd suffer in silence for as long as was necessary. (Okay, relative silence if it stretched past a minute. But she can't get greedy. His mouth tends to just run on its own after all.)]

[Stark leads her and Clifford back to his room, opening the door and motioning them in.]

Ladies and golems first.