Chapter 6 (Continued)

[AftermathGM]

Standing at the back of the sitting room, Georg receives Eldarin's sending as though thoughts of them had drawn their attention. He was only just holding himself back from letting out his raw feelings to Jaipha, so he hesitates before responding, but he wants to work past that, and that has to happen one olive branch at a time. I'd like that, he sends back, though I have to confess that I'm here on a mission. That can wait until you're finished, though.

Eldarin looks over at Georg, eyes traveling over his face for signs of what this mission might be. They don't ask, not yet, not in words, not in expression or even the colors of their face which Georg has only recently started to understand and decipher. Perhaps they're too deep into the sharing with their kin to be able to hold two conversations in two very different modes.

All right.

It's all Eldarin transmits, and without the emotional cues of speech the Unjoined have spent their lives gleaning from spoken language, it's impossible to know just what they're thinking. Concern? Irritation? As it happens, Georg has time to ruminate on the possibilities.

Eldarin turns back to the small group surrounding them and is lost for several minutes in the silent sharing between mourners. Eldarin looks to be at peace in a way Georg hasn't often seen, as though taking on this responsibility has helped them push aside the mask of their insecurities. In the muted light of the room, dappled through trees outside, they take on an almost ethereal look, somehow here and not here at the same time. An image of a memory, or a watercolor come to life.

By some unspoken agreement, the gathering begins to break up. People leave the circle, standing and walking off alone or in pairs, while Eldarin stands and brushes the simple robe they wear into a semblance of order before turning to approach Georg.

"So then... you've come on a mission?" they say aloud, voice a little rough from disuse. "And it's not to spend time with me? I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Their facial markings turn a pale lavender, their wry half-smile decoding the change in color.

[Georg Elsebethson]

Eldarin looks over at Georg, eyes traveling over his face for signs of what this mission might be. They don't ask, not yet, not in words, not in expression or even the colors of their face which Georg has only recently started to understand and decipher. Perhaps they're too deep into the sharing with their kin to be able to hold two conversations in two very different modes.

All right.

It's all Eldarin transmits, and without the emotional cues of speech the Unjoined have spent their lives gleaning from spoken language, it's impossible to know just what they're thinking. Concern? Irritation? As it happens, Georg has time to ruminate on the possibilities.

Eldarin turns back to the small group surrounding them and is lost for several minutes in the silent sharing between mourners. Eldarin looks to be at peace in a way Georg hasn't often seen, as though taking on this responsibility has helped them push aside the mask of their insecurities. In the muted light of the room, dappled through trees outside, they take on an almost ethereal look, somehow here and not here at the same time. An image of a memory, or a watercolor come to life.

Georg has seen so many new sides of Eldarin today; it's all a bit dizzying. He would like to enjoy that feeling, that sense that he has an opportunity to study the different facets of a person he's grown to love. Instead, it emphasizes the gulf that's opened up between them, the sense that Eldarin is drifting away again. He fears he's not going to have the time to get to know Eldarin the way he wants to. In one way or another, he's running out of time.

By some unspoken agreement, the gathering begins to break up. People leave the circle, standing and walking off alone or in pairs, while Eldarin stands and brushes the simple robe they wear into a semblance of order before turning to approach Georg.

"So then... you've come on a mission?" they say aloud, voice a little rough from disuse. "And it's not to spend time with me? I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Their facial markings turn a pale lavender, their wry half-smile decoding the change in color.

"No, I can't imagine you will," Georg agrees, briefly wondering if there's some page where a more resentful or ambitious Eldarin would, in fact, welcome news of Adaye being in trouble. "I don't like the errand that's brought me here either. Not that I mind any excuse to snatch a few moments with you." We should avoid being overheard. He gestures towards Eldarin's room.

When they're both inside, he doesn't keep them in further suspense. "The others happened to overhear something when their sending stones momentarily glitched. Something that sounded a lot like Master Adaye being threatened by the Headmaster." He gives them a serious look. "Do you know where Adaye is right now? Can you check on her?"

[78rpmlife]

"That being said, we should, if we can spare the time between now and the Mayor's Ball, investigate Triple R for multiple reasons," her hand goes to the detection ring still on a chain around her neck, though the others cannot see it behind her illusory guise. "If we can discover more about Macie from Meribel's friend, then I would feel much safer in our endeavors. On top of that, Triple R was the location of our last encounter with Chavon, and could prove an ideal location to begin our rumor-mongering. Lastly... and I hesitate to say, but we need to investigate the possibility of the presence of a Black Box. I felt the presence of one as we were making a hasty retreat from that meeting, but there was little we could do at that point."

Meribel straightens up at the mention of a 'black box'. "Wait, you mean one of those things that we were sent to bring back, that first time you and I met?"

She puts on a solemn expression. It looks distinctly out of place on her face. "I don't mind saying that thing creeped me out something fierce. Those vines and the... the... well, the vines," she says, looking around at each of the others. "Part metal, part plant? Grew out of the ground in no time at all? Weird stuff. Very weird. Very weird indeed."

Finch lets out a bone-deep sigh. "Look, I do not like bringing her in on anything other than checking up on this Macie character," she says. Her eyes remain on the diminutive imp, but she's clearly addressing the group. "I'd be much happier if we kept her involvement to that." She leans back in her chair and folds her arms. Her look turns sour. "Besides, we all know that she's going to manage to ferret all the rest of it out eventually anyway. Might as well give her a bit of a challenge."

Garnyn shakes his head. "Might be a reason to just go ahead and bring her in on the rest. She might put something together where we couldn't." He spreads his hands out in a shrug.

Finch shakes her head. "I would say that I don't trust her any farther than I can throw her, but I'm guessing I could throw her a good distance."

Meribel perks up at this comment, beaming at Finch. In turn, the Granite Scholar rolls her eyes. "So we'll just say that I personally don't trust her enough for that. But if the rest of you want to include her.." Another of those deep sighs. "I'll go along. But I will throw you if I have to. Right off the Autumn Bridge if necessary."

"So, probably neither named Macie nor a halfling," she concludes. "But when I can get back to my desk, I'll be able to find some references to some other things that 'Macie' did, and perhaps that will lead to something more helpful."

Garnyn chimes in, "All of which is beside the point at the moment. Iana's never going to get back to her desk to check on her own records of this Macie character if we can't figure out what to do about the demonstrations." He flashes a wry smile at Iana, then looks across at Saneq. "How do we defuse this situation? Short of proof that no one from the School murdered Jupin Askel, proof that many people are unlikely to believe anyway, I'm at a bit of a loss."

Saneq blows out a sigh. "I'm afraid you're right. This is well beyond anger over a murder. This is months, years even, of pent-up frustration at being trapped inside the city -- even if it's for our own safety!" she adds, putting her hands up to ward off Garnyn's reflexive response, "Frustration at inequality. A lack of jobs, a lack of food, a lack of a future. We may have survived the worst of the War better than most outside Meriava, but we don't know that. We don't know what happened to our friends, our family, even our enemies, outside the city. We're birds in gilded cages, my friends, and now that the gilt is wearing off... we're just caged. So what do we do about that? I fear that only some sign that the School recognizes this dilemma and is open to doing something about it will serve to reach some sort of understanding."

[78rpmlife]

"So then... you've come on a mission?" they say aloud, voice a little rough from disuse. "And it's not to spend time with me? I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Their facial markings turn a pale lavender, their wry half-smile decoding the change in color.

"No, I can't imagine you will," Georg agrees, briefly wondering if there's some page where a more resentful or ambitious Eldarin would, in fact, welcome news of Adaye being in trouble. "I don't like the errand that's brought me here either. Not that I mind any excuse to snatch a few moments with you." We should avoid being overheard. He gestures towards Eldarin's room.

When they're both inside, he doesn't keep them in further suspense. "The others happened to overhear something when their sending stones momentarily glitched. Something that sounded a lot like Master Adaye being threatened by the Headmaster." He gives them a serious look. "Do you know where Adaye is right now? Can you check on her?"

It doesn't take a Naucan's sense of another's mood or thoughts to know that Eldarin is tense. As soon as they're in the room alone with Georg, they turn to wait for the explanation, visibly bracing themselves for the next awful blow in a day -- a week? Has it even been a week? -- full of blows.

When Georg asks about Adaye, Eldarin doesn't even pause. They extend their senses outward, unable to connect directly to Adaye. But where there are kin, so extend the senses of each individual. Eldarin's query reaches other Naucans, who connect out as far as they can reach, to other Naucans who do the same. A very useful technique, but this time one that returns few certain details.

The best I can determine is that she is at Adjunct Hall, though no one I've connected with knows when she arrived or who she is with, if anyone. She doesn't... seem to be answering her kin.

It still doesn't take a Naucan's senses to glean Eldarin's mood -- they're worried.

As Georg watches, he can see the subtle shifts in the shoulders, the softening around the eyes, the tilt to the head, all signs he's learned to recognize in a shift in gender presentation to the feminine. Elda chews on her lower lip. "We should go, Georg," she whispers aloud after a moment's nervous contemplation. "If she's not answering, she could be in danger. It might be nothing, but... I'm afraid. If something happens to Adaye..."

She slowly reaches to slip her hand into Georg's. The gesture isn't hesitant, simply gentle, soft scholar's skin against calloused warrior's skin. "We'll go together," she says, still aloud. It's not phrased as a question, but the open searching in her expression suggests one nonetheless.

[Georg Elsebethson]

Georg is always on alert for signs of tension in the people around him—even beyond his Granite training, the fact that people often find his very presence intimidating means he needs to be aware of things like that—so it's not hard for him to pick up on Eldarin's mood. He tells himself that it's the situation and the possible danger to Adaye that is making the Naucan tense, and not anything to do with him or the fight they had earlier. He mostly believes it.

His watchfulness does have the upside of allowing him to witness Eldarin shift to Elda for the first time, or at least the first time where he knows that's what's happening while it happens. The change is subtle in a such a way that he can understand why he missed it before, but obvious in a way where he can't imagine missing it again. Georg even surprises himself when he realizes that seeing the shift prompts a shift in him; an opening of his body language; a desire to reach for her; an urge to do something about that lower lip. Or maybe that's just because Elda is the one he's made love to. He is not, after all, prone to sentimentality about femininity (and if he were, Drexel and Finch would have set him straight long ago).

Regardless, the situation is clearly serious, and while Georg had not necessarily planned to pull Elda away from her people while they are in mourning, he can't really argue with her about coming along. He could lose a lot of time trying to canvas the Adjunct Office alone looking for her, and if she's not responding to her people telepathically, she may not be able to respond verbally either. Georg's hand engulfs hers along with a good bit of her forearm. "Of course," he says, meeting her questioning look with a resolute one. "If she's in danger, we're all in danger. We can't let another Naucan be harmed. Not today."

[78rpmlife]

He could lose a lot of time trying to canvas the Adjunct Office alone looking for her, and if she's not responding to her people telepathically, she may not be able to respond verbally either. Georg's hand engulfs hers along with a good bit of her forearm. "Of course," he says, meeting her questioning look with a resolute one. "If she's in danger, we're all in danger. We can't let another Naucan be harmed. Not today."

Adjunct Hall is the home of Whitestone College. The origins of the building's name are muddled enough that it's difficult to know which version of the history is true. Some say it was originally the annex of a larger building lost to time. Or ruin. Or magical experiment gone awry. Others say it was named ironically: despite the School's insistence that all Colleges are equal, it's certainly true that more Headmasters have been from Whitestone than from any other College, and when outsiders think of the School, they're most often thinking of Whitestone practitioners. First among equals, perhaps, but certainly not an addendum or supplement to the School.

It's an impressive structure, its outer walls incorporating significant amounts of its occupants' signature stone, high arched entryways and two mosaic-covered domes dominating the view from the outside. Unlike the wilder, more natural confines of the Greenhouse where Georg spoke to Sophie earlier, Adjunct Hall is strictly appointed in geometric perfection. The domes are archetypes of domes, the arches curved to exacting measurements, it all speaks to a level of control and precision at odds with the unpredictability of magic in these days. One gets an urge to scratch their initials in a post or scuff a marble floor, just to break from the near-oppressive perfection.

The main entry of Adjunct Hall is much like the outside -- airy, almost ethereal, and very, very idealized in its design. The light that filters in through the high windows glows warm in and of itself, but cools upon reflection from the stone floor.

Walking next to Elda, Georg can feel her shoulders tense as they walk in. There are fewer people here than would normally be found at this time of day. Those that are here seem to be speaking quietly to one another in small groups. There's palpable tension in the air. Granted, the entire campus seems tense, but given the reason Elda and Georg are here, it doesn't bode well.

Elda sends to Georg, I don't like this. Something is wrong. Like all the normal business of the building came to a halt. I'd like to think it's the riots outside, but us Whitestones have never been known for paying attention to things outside our walls...

As soon as the thought reaches Georg's mind, a human woman in her mid-20s breaks off from one of the small groups and approaches Elda. She's big in all the ways a person can be big: tall, broad, heavyset. Her dirty blonde hair is inexpertly gathered into a messy bun that sticks off the side of her head, locks of hair falling out all over.

"Eldarin! Is it true? Do you know?" The woman's voice is as noticeable as she is, a ringing contralto that carries even farther than usual in the quiet hall.

Elda shrinks back initially, until she sees who's approaching. Jana is... a friend, I suppose. She's harmless, at least.

Aloud, Elda says, "Is what true, Jana? I've been at the kinship all afternoon. Do you mean the riots?" Jana's eyes flick briefly to Georg and Elda makes the introduction. "This is Georg Elsebethson. Granite Scholar. A... good friend of mine," she says, stumbling just ever so slightly over the characterization.

Jana studies Georg for a moment, then casually dismisses him as not needing her attention. "No, I mean -- wait, riots? What riots?"

Elda shakes her head. "Probably not important right now. What are you talking about? What's going on?"

Jana dry washes her hands where they hover at her waist. "Master Adaye. They're saying she's been imprisoned on charges of treason against the School," she says in a lower tone of voice, the edges ragged with worry. "Is... is it true? The Headmaster is taking over as Master of Whitestone in the meantime? How am I going to finish my Scholar's project if Master Adaye is in prison? She's my second Reader. I can't... I can't switch projects now, I just started getting somewhere on it..."

Elda reaches out to clasp a hand around Jana's wrist before she goes completely off the deep end. "Jana, this is important. Where did you hear this?"

Jana's clear blue eyes, brimming with nervous tears, lower to Elda's. "It's all over the Hall. I went to her office, but her secretary said she was indisposed, so..." She shrugs heavy shoulders. "I don't know what to think."

[Georg Elsebethson]

The Adjunct Hall has always looked to Georg like something that belongs in a glass case. Built as it is to an exacting plan, it seems to dare all and sundry—the elements, antagonists, mischievous students—to do something to mar its perfection. Georg would never dream of doing something like that of course, though at times the urge to approach it with a piece of chalk has struck him, just out of perverse curiosity at what would happen, but he would think that the birds would have no such complications. In light of the fact that he's never seen a single speck of bird droppings on its glistening surface, he can only assume that its edifice is magically preserved, or perhaps continually cleaned by a legion of invisible menials.

Georg rarely has occasion to visit Adjunct Hall, so on those few trips he's always a little surprised to see that the inside is pristine as the outside. He usually has to peek into an office, where the inevitable chaos of faculty occupancy overwhelms whatever protections are in place, just to see a part that actually looks used.

The tension in the air is entirely unlike the Greenhouse, which might as well have been on a completely different page than the troubles happening outside. Unfortunately, he and Elda promptly discover that the tension is not from the confirmed problems but rather the ones they feared. Georg gives Jana a little wave as Elda introduces him, quite happy to be ignored, and files away the way she stumbled over what to call him as something he can rib her over later. When the world isn't falling apart. Possibly next year. See, I'm not the only one who doesn't know what to call us in front of other people.

The news is very bad, and Georg frowns as he considers their options. Rothenend must be holding Adaye somewhere you can't reach her telepathically. What places like that are there nearby? Of course, finding her is only part of the problem. Georg tries to think back to his Opal courses, thinking in terms of contracts and legalities. Rothenend must have moved very quickly in imprisoning her and assuming her duties, considering she was free just this morning. That kind of forceful movement, that exercise of power, is impressive, but almost always leaves openings. What rules and conventions, written or unwritten, might Rothenend have trampled in the name of expediency? What openings might that leave for Georg and Elda to exploit?

OOC: I'm thinking this might be an Investigate with Opal training?

[78rpmlife]

It's a measure of Elda's mental and perhaps emotional state that she starts to reply to Jana in Georg's head first.

Don't lose hope -- sorry, I -- that was meant for Jana, but I suppose it could be meant for you as well. For all of us.

Elda glances up at Georg, a physical punctuation to her telepathy.

"Don't lose hope, Jana. There has to be have some sort of mistake. Somebody will get to the bottom of this. Somebody has to," she says, though the forlorn note she closes on doesn't inspire a lot of confidence. But she looks up at Georg once again and shifts almost imperceptibly closer to him, drawing strength from his steady presence. "And that... that will start with us," she adds in a quiet, but firmer, voice.

Jana's eyes widen a touch. This isn't exactly the sort of behavior she's known from Elda, but she also hasn't been witness to everything that's happened to her. "Be safe, please?" Jana says. Her eyes shift, not maintaining contact with Elda for very long, and then she turns to go without another word.

Rothenend must be holding Adaye somewhere you can't reach her telepathically. What places like that are there nearby? Of course, finding her is only part of the problem. Georg tries to think back to his Opal courses, thinking in terms of contracts and legalities. Rothenend must have moved very quickly in imprisoning her and assuming her duties, considering she was free just this morning. That kind of forceful movement, that exercise of power, is impressive, but almost always leaves openings. What rules and conventions, written or unwritten, might Rothenend have trampled in the name of expediency? What openings might that leave for Georg and Elda to exploit?

For a moment, the idea that there would be such a place fails to connect in Elda's head. But then a memory is dredged up from a dark corner of her mind that she'd pushed it off to. Her mental voice comes through slow and hesitant. There is. When I was working with... Ahanei. He made me try to --

She puts her hands over her nose and mouth and takes a couple of slow deep breaths. I don't like to remember it. I had to try and break through the glamor that had been placed on the room. It was so silent, Georg. I've never felt so alone. She turns and grasps one of Georg's hands in both of hers. Poor Adaye. We have to find her.

Georg thinks over what he knows of the laws of the School as well as its long traditions that may as well be laws. Everyone accused of a crime against the School is entitled to legal representation, often an Advocate from the Church of Orien, but anyone can invoke the right to represent the accused and request their release from incarceration. The issue, Georg remembers, is that unless the School allows a substitution, that person must continue to act as Advocate. For serious crimes such as treason, the Masters of the School hear the case and any motions related to it, as well as pass judgement.

So they could find Adaye and demand her release, but any case that would be brought against her by the School might have to be defended by Georg himself, unless there were enough Masters willing to potentially defy the Headmaster and allow an alternate Advocate. Or they could avail themselves of the services of an Advocate now, though that might take some time.

[Georg Elsebethson]

Jana's eyes widen a touch. This isn't exactly the sort of behavior she's known from Elda, but she also hasn't been witness to everything that's happened to her. "Be safe, please?" Jana says. Her eyes shift, not maintaining contact with Elda for very long, and then she turns to go without another word.

"Impressive," Georg murmurs as soon as Jana is out of earshot. "It takes real skill to ignore someone my size." He could have sent that telepathically if he wanted to be sure she wouldn't overhear, but it's more important that Elda hear that he's joking. Granted, she's no stripling either.

For a moment, the idea that there would be such a place fails to connect in Elda's head. But then a memory is dredged up from a dark corner of her mind that she'd pushed it off to. Her mental voice comes through slow and hesitant. There is. When I was working with... Ahanei. He made me try to --

She puts her hands over her nose and mouth and takes a couple of slow deep breaths. I don't like to remember it. I had to try and break through the glamor that had been placed on the room. It was so silent, Georg. I've never felt so alone. She turns and grasps one of Georg's hands in both of hers. Poor Adaye. We have to find her.

Georg puts his other hand on Elda's shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. He knows that he should take Ahanei's death with all appropriate seriousness, give that he does bear some responsibility for it, but every new thing he learns about the man pushes his conception of what is "appropriate." He can't help but think the world is better without Ahanei in it, for all that he knows that's a dangerous line of thinking for someone who carries around a giant sword to have.

I know this is hard, but were you able to break through it? Do you think you could break through from the outside? Even apart from how it might help them to know more about what happened, it sounds to Georg like Adaye might be sorely in need of someone to connect with.

I have an idea, but I need to talk to Morwenna. Georg locates a suitable alcove where he can use the whitestone disc without being extra conspicuous. Once he has her on the other end, he cuts to the chase. "Adaye's been taken into custody. Is there an Advocate on campus you can recommend?" Georg is willing to speak for her defense himself if it comes down to it—at the moment, he can't think of a more valuable use of his time—but he only has a few Opal courses to help him in that task, and Rothenend would probably love the opportunity to keep him tied down in judicial bureaucracy indefinitely. Master Antior might support getting Georg out of it later on the grounds that he has things for Georg to be doing, but it's an open question whether a sufficient number of other Masters would be willing to go along with it.

[78rpmlife]

The discussion turns to questions of solving problems of inequity for a few minutes before Morwenna speaks up and suggests that while all of these are excellent problems to tackle, there is a perhaps larger problem immediately to hand: how to defuse the riots. After some further discussion, during which it's abundantly obvious that no one has the answers, Morwenna speaks up again. Her suggestion is that a trusted member of the coalition leading the demonstrations is enjoined to work directly with someone from the school to further discuss these matters. Saneq voices her willingness to serve as the representative of the coalition, further suggesting that Morwenna be her partner from the school.

That generates a good deal of protest from Morwenna. Complaints that the school would never choose her as a representative are countered by Saneq's declaration that she will only speak with Morwenna and none other. Complaints that she is unqualified are countered by Garnyn, who points out that as both a member of Dawnstone and an active member of the Church of Orien's outreach arm, there are few that would be more qualified. There are more complaints, of course, but they grow weaker and weaker, to the point where even Morwenna has to laugh unsteadily and admit that she simply doesn't want to bear the responsibility... but she can't deny that she is a very apt candidate for the position.

Plus, Finch points out, it was Morwenna's idea in the first place. Who better?

It's at this point that the speaking disc signals an incoming message.

"Adaye's been taken into custody. Is there an Advocate on campus you can recommend?"

There's a great deal of concern and more questions than there is time or space to ask them all. Morwenna puts up her hands for quiet, takes a deep breath, and responds to Georg.

"Talk to Risine Barimond. I can't think of anyone who would love a challenge such as this more than her. She is a veritable force of nature and justice. The stories say that she used to be a Dawnstone faculty member years and years ago, but resigned in protest over something no one seems to remember any more... and then refused to vacate her office. Found some loophole in the School's bylaws that allowed her to stay. If anyone would be interested in taking something like that on, it would be her."

Finch chimes in quickly. "Be careful, Per. Someone could be trying to lure you out of the shadows. And yeah, you can call me overly paranoid, but only after you make sure you don't end up in custody too, all right? And stay in touch or I'll have your bal--" She bites her lip, glancing about at the people she doesn't know well, not sure just how much of her usual vulgarity she can call on in the moment. "I'll be upset."

They quickly fill Georg in on their situation, letting him know that everyone but Morwenna will be back on campus soon if they're needed.

As the connection is closed, everyone except Morwenna and Saneq head back toward campus and the gate where they'll be allowed back in. Iana and Garnyn make plans to start looking further into Macie, while Asra and Finch will plan their deception. Meribel, on the other hand, says she'll stay outside the walls and keep digging into the question of Macie. Finch glares daggers at her and makes it clear that she'll be ready to toss the overly friendly halfling menace off the highest bridge in the city if need be. Meribel expresses her appreciation for Finch's deep love for her, and heads back toward the Canal District. No one doubts that she'll show up again, likely at the most inopportune time.