twelve. spam & voice. the sound when we come running. ( backdated post-port. )

[indispensible]

voice } helena ( backdated )

Did you die? Did you kill anyone? [These seem like the two most likely options.]

voice } lydia ( backdated )

You got separated. You should learn self-defense. [This vaguely reproachful, which is a coded way of saying god that sucked, are you okay.]

voice } elsa ( present dated )

[She waits to get in touch with Elsa, who seems as easily overwhelmed as Vin was herself, not very long ago. Still, the desire to check in nags at her, and eventually she gives in.]

I'm worried about you. [It's simultaneously frank, honest, and very forward, but it seems like the right thing to say all the same.]

spam } stark ( backdated )

[She has been texting him incessantly and, of course, he hasn't been responding. She doesn't know why she's surprised. But she knows where to find him, at least. In the bar or in his cabin.]

[The bar's almost empty and he's not in there, so she slips up to his room and opens the door before he can voice an objection. Her look is steely; she knows he's done something or he wouldn't be avoiding her, but she doesn't know what.]

Why are you hiding?

open spam } present dated

[Today Vin is in the art room - or rather, the annex off of the art room that holds the piano. She is sitting at it, but not playing it, because she doesn't know how to. Instead, she is considering it, leafing through the music that she found in its bench, and arranging it in various patterns across the keyboard in an effort to make sense of it.]

[So far she hasn't had any luck, but she seems absorbed in her work. It's like learning a foreign language with no guide whatsoever. She can't help but imagine Sazed would be fascinated.]

Comments

[warisart]

[There aren't very many people that come into this room to play the piano; there are several that come in and poke at the keys, one or two that really play, and then there's Ben. Ben knows everyone that comes and goes, knew them even before Jesse gave him a key to this room, keeping a careful watch on who might in turn know that he frequents this room, on who is approaching something so important to him, even if he never does anything about it.

Ben knows that Vin is not normally one of those people.

He notices her when he walks into the room with a sketchbook in his hands, intent not on playing today but on using the piano as a model, something to hang his ideas on that he can see and understand and transfer to paper, possibly. His steps slow for a moment and he almost turns and leaves again, but she's moving the music around in patterns he doesn't understand, and he remembers why he showed her this the first time.

Ultimately, he's too curious to go away, and he wants the intangible reassurance of the piano room, and he trusts Vin to tell him bluntly if she'd like for him to leave. So he steps to the door and, after a moment of determining that he doesn't understand how she's arranging the pages and she doesn't understand how they're supposed to go, speaks quietly.]

If I may make a suggestion?

private voice;

[adelphoktonos]

We survived. And we only killed the creatures that lived in the dark.

private voice;

[lydiascreams]

[There's a delay before she answers, because no one reproaches her. But they helped each other and they were in a terrified situation, so she takes a deep breath before answering.]

I wasn't hurt. But all things considered, that's not a bad idea.

Are you okay?

private

[bothfoulandfair]

I'm fine.

[She's not. She's definitely, definitely not, but she's tired of feeling like she's falling apart, and she's been lying for so long that it still comes to her naturally.]

Thank you.

[outofclothes]

[Stark is on edge. It's going to take a while to come down from port where every little sound could be the next fight. He didn't sleep much either, bone-tired as he is, he hasn't even attempted to get any sleep after the port either. So when Vin just opens his door, Stark is instantly alert, tense.]

[Anyone else might miss the little details. Stark's heart rate increasing, breath hitching just a moment, and his pupils dilating. The gun he was just about to empty, disassemble, and clean to try and find that center again he had just a little shy of a week ago raises in a fraction of a second to chest level.]

It's not really hiding if you know how to find me, is it? [he asks, lowering the gun, but not his gaze.]

[Stark isn't ashamed and isn't about to start acting like a kid that just got caught out of bed well past his bedtime. The only person who could ever make him ashamed of what he is or the things he does is long gone and out of his reach. Possibly forever. Which is good. Stark doesn't think she should have to know about this ever if only because he doesn't want to think about how she would react, how he both thinks and knows she would react.]

You should knock first. Common decency or some shit like that.