A Place to Hide (Attn:Jenn/Affie)

[Jiggity]

Avram

Avram quietly opened the door into the storeroom that had been the antechamber to the M'Hael's room in the basement. It was now avoided like the plague by just about everyone, partly because it wasn't fit to be a storeroom anymore and partly because no one really wanted to risk going to the site of the M'Hael's wrath. But if he was going to have a seat of power, that seat needed somewhere to be. Somewhere that no one would look.

A room that couldn't be used for any real purpose and everyone treated as cursed? Perfect.

He closed the door behind him, still silent on its hinges. The door hadn't been touched, and in truth this room wasn't that badly off. Most of the destruction had been caused by Jaryd Asha'man (he refused to let himself even think of any without their rank) in his own room, and by Kaia Sedai in hers. But while the good furnishings had been carted away, there was still some debris that had fallen into this central chamber. And as Avram stepped softly into the middle of the room, looking around, he saw one of the corners had a larger pile than he would have expected. And from his vantage at the side of the room, the pile had been built, not fallen naturally, and contained a small girl in Drin grey.

As he took a step closer to look at her, his foot scraped on a rock on the floor. and the slight noise had her instantly awake. He started back, one hand pulling a dagger from his sleeve as the other went up in front of his face to protect him. But instead of the attack he half expected from someone half-wild, she burrowed deeper back into the pile, almost cringing.

"I'm not going to hurt you." he said softly, voice calm. He sheathed his dagger. Tact was called for here, if he didn't want everyone to know where he had been. "I just wanted a look around here."

[Jenn]

Afanen

There was someone there there was someone there there was someone there - and he had a knife! The last word squealed through her mind. Afanen scrambled back, all thoughts of warmth and sleep forgotten. She dislodged a small cloud of dust as she pushed back as far as she could in the little space she had made for herself.

“I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted a look around here.” The words were soft and then dagger disappeared.

Her breathing was loud and harsh but she managed to fight down the urge to curl into a ball. She didn’t run... mostly because there was nowhere for her to go. She was too afraid go into the two rooms that had been demolished by an Aes Sedai and Asha’man; she didn’t want to be turned into a frog. Or worse.

Slowly, so very slowly, she crept forward again, dark eyes watching the man warily. He wore a uniform like hers... only slightly darker. A Ji then. He was from the Warder Yards too. She wasn't sure if that made her feel any better or not. Her foot nudged the rough homespun that hid the food she had stashed... things that would last, like dried jerky and trail bread. It was tasteless and trying to chew the stringy meat too quickly made her jaw ache, but she didn’t have to worry about going hungry for a while.

Her fingers clamped around the edge of her cuffs as she carefully perched onto her knees. “Nobody comes here. Or at least they didn’t. Until you.” Her voice was quiet. “I haven’t seen you around the Yards.” Not that that meant much... she didn’t exactly like staying where it was always so bright and noisy. Afanen quickly reached up to stifle a yawn, her hand going to rub at her eyes.

[Jiggity]

Avram

He took a second to look over the Drin that reminded him strongly of the urchins he had recruited for his crew. She was probably a girl, though between how she styled her hair and the yard uniform it wasn't easy to tell for sure. Watching her careful movements, he sat down, crossing his legs and putting his hands on his knees to be as non-threatening as possible.

"I try not to stick out much. It's so much easier to get around when people don't notice you. I'm mostly around in the early morning or deep in a crowd. Easier to get lost that way." He kept his voice soft and relaxed, guessing she would pick up on anything that could sound like aggression. "That's why I'm checking out down here. I like to have somewhere that I won't be found too easily." He smiled wryly. "I guess I wasn't the first this time. It feels safe, and people don't like to come down here."

He paused, sizing up the girl. "My name's Avram. What's yours? Where are you from?" He looked behind her, seeing the sack and made an educated guess. "You don't have to worry about food here. I know that's not a thought to come naturally, but especially as a Drin you can just go to the kitchen and ask for more food and they'll give it to you. And if you know the right people to ask, they'll even give you some of the good stuff."

[Jenn]

Affie

She relaxed when the Ji settled himself down, his hands going to rest on crossed legs beneath him. The breath she let out was quiet, and she had to keep her fingers from twitching to the food stash. Her heart still pounded in her ears, her wariness thrumming like a string wound too tightly.

Afanen listened as he spoke. He was Avram. She watched him hesitantly, eyes solemn. She winced as he spoke of the food and looked ruefully behind her at the homespun cloth that covered the assorted items. He... knew... but he wasn’t making fun of her for it like some of the others had.

“It... it’s not that,” she said reluctantly, her hands trying to push up into the fitted cuffs again. “I... I’ve been asking.” The word rolled off her tongue awkwardly. “The people in the kitchens call me a bottomless pit. But... but no matter how much I get, it doesn’t help. I... feel safer, having this here.” She glanced back at her stash again.

“I’m Afanen. Some of the others have started calling me Affie.” Her tone indicated that she wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing or not. “I was born in Altara.” The corners of her eyes tightened. “Where are you from? Why... why did you decide to come here of all places? I haven’t checked the... the other two rooms yet.” The slight quaver in her voice was unmistakable. “They say this used to belong to the Keeper of the Chronicles and the M’Hael. I figure it was safe enough out here...”

[Jiggity]

Avram

"I can understand that. Anything's better than worrying about eating rats and pigeons." He laughed softly. "I don't think it sank into me in quite the same way though. Maybe it's because I only had to do that a couple of times." Those had not been good times. The crew's food and coin stretched and stretched as long as it could, but sometimes you needed that little bit more. Thankfully none had died, though a few had gotten violently ill. "My books help me the same way." He declined to explain that they did a bit more than that by the time he was done with them. He liked this grown urchin - something about her made her seem much younger than she was - but he still wasn't going to let her know everything.

"Afanen is a nice name. And Affie is a much nicer nickname than many I've heard. It's pretty. You're lucky you got one that just shortens your name. A guy I used to know was nicknamed dung-swallower, or just dung for short. I don't think you need an explanation for how he got his name, and if you need it you don't want it." Landing face-first in a chamber pot will do bad things for a person's reputation.

"I'm from Cairhien. I came here to the Tower because I didn't have better options. Cairhien had become unfriendly to me. I came down here because I needed to find somewhere I could be safe and unobtrusive." He shrugged. "Rooms treated as haunted sounded like a good option to me. And I have to admit to some curiosity. I'd much rather never see any Asha'man, let alone the M'Hael, in a rage, but it will be interesting to see the aftereffects."

[Jenn]

Affie

“Rats and pigeons taste vile. Also make my stomach cramp but it’s something, at least.” A wave of nausea rolled through her at the mere memory of those not so good times, but given the choice, she’d gladly suffer through vomiting and diarrhea if it meant that the daggers of hunger in her stomach never came back. “Squirrel isn’t so bad, but they’re hard to catch.”

A faint smile came to her face in spite of herself as Avram said that her name was nice... and pretty? She’d never heard that before. No, Affie was not the worst she’d been called by far. “Don’t think I’d enjoy having ‘dung-swallower’ or ‘dung’ for a nickname. I knew someone called ‘Squirt’ because... the story went that his ma wouldn’t stay still and when he finally came out... you can imagine the rest.”

Dark eyes studied him and she inched forward again, just a little. “The place I was staying became unfriendly to me too. Was a small flyspeck village that didn’t have a jail so I was directed to the first caravan that passed through. Happened to be going to the Grey Tower.”

The small Drin glanced around nervously, her brows furrowing a little. “It’s very quiet here. And you can see the after effects of angry channelers just fine! Look!” Forgetting herself in her agitation, Affie pointed up to the lingering haze that drifted along the sooty ceiling, then gestured to the piles of fine ash that had spilled out and dusted fingertips and clung to hair strands, a lighter layer of grey against grey uniforms. Then she pointed to the far end where the door had been completely removed from its hinges and lay crookedly on the floor. Deep gashes marred the smooth surface. “Was like that when I got here. Don’t think it was made normally by the Keeper or the M’Hael.”

She almost cringed away again. Gaidin didn’t flinch. Suddenly, her lips set stubbornly. Her voice was faint, but she didn’t stutter. “But... I’ll go look if you do.”