Let the blind lead the blind

[andrend]

WHO: Kylo Ren
WHERE: Just outside the Inn
WHEN: February 1st
OPEN TO: All; Threadjack style
WARNINGS: None other than that this is really long.
STATUS: Open

---

The fact that daily meals not only existed, but seemed to do so in spite of snow, earthquakes, and auroras in the sky, was one of a few consistently positive glimmers of hope for the village and its inhabitants. It also had the benefit of drawing a large number of those same inhabitants to one predictable location more often than not. For Ren, that was normally a reason to avoid the inn in the hours after dawn and before dusk. However, with his mind on the conversations he had had with Sansa and Veronica, and the missing beast presumably still roaming somewhere out in the canyon, Ren knew he couldn't keep approaching the problem the way he had been, previously.

Veronica's advice still lingered in his mind fresh enough after a month of thought to have him trying something new. He waited for a good number of people to enter the inn before doing so himself, and asked, with a softened tone and a calm voice, if people could spare a moment when they finished to have a discussion.

He had missed the most recent meeting, entrenched as he had been in his training. It had been another lost opportunity, and he wanted no more of those. This was as good of a chance as any, and he was taking action before action could be taken from him.

With his request submitted, he left the inn and borrowed a sturdy crate from outside one of the unused buildings. He took a seat on it, just outside the front of the inn, during the meal. Most people came and went through the doors, and it gave him a good position without worrying about the crowding of the growing village's size packed inside one space.

When enough people decided to come out and take part, he stood back up, his long hair loosely pulled back, and the scar the cut across his face and down his arm far more visible for it. He looked around at the faces gathered, some familiar, others new, and straightened his back, standing taller and more assured. He needed people to trust him, or at least trust that what he had to say might be important. But he could not be harsh, he could not demand. He had to coax reason out, and the only way to do so was to offer his ideas as ideas, and nothing more.

"A lot has happened in this canyon. Some of you have been here for far more of it than I have. There have been hazards, storms, unusual discoveries, and violent creatures. People come and go, almost always without the slightest inclination as to how or why. I myself have gone and returned, and I remember nothing of it." He paused there, one hand holding onto the metal staff he had been using so long now it had become an extension of him. He rested it on the ground like a cane now, using it to keep himself grounded.

"This canyon is unpredictable. The dangers and threats that may face us in the future can not be anticipated wholly, and there is no way of knowing who among us will still be around to see them. But one thing is clear. I do not believe our captors have ever intended anything positive of this place. They observe, and they prevent our escape. They take our strength, our possessions, our memories," He hesitates a moment, his grip tightening on the staff, his voice sharper for a moment before settling back to an even tone. "And they toy with us. We have no idea who they are, what their true intentions may be, or how they came to bring us here, only that for now we are trapped here, together."

He looks over the group that has gathered, a frown crossing his face, his brows furrowed a moment before smoothing over. He has to choose his words carefully, and for the sometimes reckless young man, it isn't easy not to dive straight in.

"I think it's time we discuss whether or not this place needs more than the loose assortment of tasks and common, repeated actions it has as it currently stands. I believe we need a leadership in place. A council. With how unpredictable this place has proven to be, no one person can or should be trusted with that task but more dangers will come, we will face more disasters, more attacks that we can not see coming. We can not assume that we will always have the luxury of waiting until after the fact to react."

He breathes, slow and deep, and tries to find the words again, searching for the right phrasing, the right voice.

"I think a council is something we should consider. A group of people to share the burden of making tough calls or assigning tasks when things go wrong, or when something needs to get done. It will not work, however, if disagreement runs rampant underneath it. That's why I came here. At the very least, it should be discussed. If the majority is against it, I will drop the matter, but if we do not at least have this conversation, I do not think this village will last many disasters before the fragile organization the structure of it is currently built on collapses and falls apart."

Having said his piece, Ren stepped aside, and offered the area he had been speaking from to anyone who might choose to use it.

[This is a meeting post open to threadjacking, interruptions, opinions, and the like. If your character has anything to say, let them do so. I'll drop a secondary comment below for Ren specifically, otherwise go wild and respond to anyone you like or start your own thing. It's intended to be an IC discoure over whether or not the village needs some form of leadership, but any actual organizing of a leadership is not intended or planned to be formed from this meeting.]

Comments

OTA for Ren

[andrend]

Ren actually didn't want to monopolize the meeting he had started. He was far more interested in observing the result, and the decisions or views of his fellow captives. If he was going to be trapped in this prison for a time, he was determined to at least try to set things in motion to make sure there were plans and minds available for the problems that cropped up while he searched for a way out.

The metal curtain rod was being used as a grounding distraction, rather than the weapon he trained with it as. He kept both hands on the cool metal, and dug the base of it into the ground while he watched the reaction and response to his words.

He was more than willing to discuss further, one on one or as a whole, and he kept his attention active and focused. He was doing his best to keep the discourse from slipping into negative territory.

[3ofswords]

Being one of the people feeding the others, and making his best effort to clean up without wetting or tearing his injured hand, Kira is one of the last people to filter out into the crowd. He slips toward the fore, following the familiar sound of Ren's voice.

He isn't entirely surprised to hear what he has to say, though he understands it's importance might be why Ren so mildly, for him, addresses such a large group at once. This isn't the kind of seed to plant one person at a time. That kind of campaign would be suited to gaining an actual seat on said council.

It isn't a bad idea, especially given all the new arrivals: he'd gotten conflicting or incomplete information when he arrived, not least of which was: who do I approach for what.

"Maybe we could determine it by groups of skill or knowledge? And they could choose representatives, so the needs of those groups could be evenly met? Like the doctors, and the hunters or foragers, and the people keeping up the inn?"

He looks around at the group, for suggestions of other breakdowns, and to see if anyone is entertaining his or Ren's ideas at all.

[notabirdcostume]

Sam was around the inn with most meals, being one of the people who could actually cook around here. Well, and he enjoyed cooking. It gave him a steady purpose. And he was honestly surprised when Ren had spoken up as he had. Sam had listened as he ate, having spent most of meal time serving others, he'd only just now fixed a plate for himself. Ren had some good points actually, and honestly Sam was surprised it had been put forward so eloquently. The other thing that surprised him was that the idea hadn't really been articulated or tossed around like this before now. They'd all just sort of started working together and hadn't thought too much about leadership or command. Most people probably defferred to Miss Kate or Jo or maybe even Mark -- when it had been planting/harvest time -- among a few others. But that was rather limited and especially with their increased numbers now.

He looked over to Kira, chiming in, "Not a bad suggestion. Some of us have naturally drifted to certain areas -- so it'd probably be easier to coordinate if we had one person in charge of each section and keeping track of how many people they had to help."

[3ofswords]

"And train," he adds, wondering what would happen to some of the livestock and the kitchen itself if Kate were to disappear on them. "Everyone's coming in with different levels of knowledge," and he wouldn't call the man out, but it was in his mind, the fact that Casey could not read or write. "We don't want to put the most expert person in charge and then lose them."

Perhaps that should be taken into consideration as well, with the nature of the place: volunteers could be putting a target on their back, if they were truly being watched and forced back from progress. "It could even be a temporary position that rotates out, once things are organized, if we didn't need it anymore we'd look to something else."

Moana ~ OTA

[chosenbytheocean]

These sorts of meetings were familiar to her and she found the topic of this meeting more interesting than the last. She had already guessed that there wasn't a form of leader ship, it was something she was able to deduce from the last meeting, but a council was very similar to the way her island was set up though her father had been at the helm for all final decisions. Everyone had a say and everyone was heard. It might not be the same here and for all she knew the same system might work here too.

The more she listened the more confident she grew. She didn't know if anyone would agree with her but she was stubborn and very loud when she needed to be.

"I think there should be a council but they should listen to everyone here and not just make decisions on their own." She paused and sorted through her thoughts. "Not everyone might like it here but for now this is where we live. We should take care of this place as well as each other." Moana had high hopes for the spring and summer.

"The council should be those who want to protect everyone who is brought here." She paused again but only briefly this time. "More than just one person and from many different worlds. We all have something to share and experiences that make us wise. We can all learn from each other and we'll be strongest together."

If her father was here, he might have been proud of her.

OTA

[womanofvalue]

She'd come here when she'd heard the topic, not immediately because she felt an intense need to be here and contribute, but because she's been looking for Steve for days now and she knows that there is absolutely no way that he would miss such a meeting. He would be here, positioned and ready to offer himself up in whatever way he needs to be. When Peggy searches the small crowd and finds that he's not there, she feels disappointment sinking into her belly because she has a very bad idea that she knows what that means, even if she's still in denial about it.

So instead of focusing on that terrible reality lurking just outside her mind, she turns her attention to what Ren is saying, a critical slant in her expression. It's not that she disagrees, but Peggy's been unfortunately privy to men standing up and giving speeches very much like this, taking the credit for themselves and refusing to listen to their equals, simply because they don't acknowledge the worth of a woman or someone like Daniel, who had been injured being braver than most of them. She raises her brow, waiting for the inevitable - volunteering himself for this brave, humbling, honest task, but that never comes.

Arms crossed, she stands at attention and wonders what sort of situation she's found herself in, again, that it's come to a matter of jockeying for position to try and lead a community. Council, too, is a dirty word, reminding her too much of Whitney Frost's cabal of minions. "And how should we judge our peers?" she asks, not to anyone in particular. "Who knows their hearts best that we know who should lead us?"

She's seen far too many bad things happen when you give the wrong people power and Peggy absolutely does not trust near enough people here to be ready to follow commands blindly.

[3ofswords]

He remembers Peggy from the last meeting, offering up supplies and agreeing that knowledge should be shared: to hear her oppose organization and leadership is interesting, and were he closer or not already exhausted from the wash of people throughout mealtimes, Kira might try to feel out a better understanding of why.

But he knows how to use his words, too. He doesn't have her poise, her posture--the way he slumps, they come off about the same diminutive height. He doesn't even have the strength of voice to match, but he raises it anyway, speaking across the space between them: "He did say it shouldn't be any one person."

Finding attention turned to him, he ticks his spine one bit straighter and stuffs his hands in his pockets, pushing against them to help keep it there with the pull of his woolen coat. "It's just a call for organization, isn't it? Someone to know when to call meetings, people to have information we need at those meetings? And when there isn't time to gather everyone to hash out a decision. If you're worried about it all, you could just...be on it?"

closed for casey; after kira leaves

[3ofswords]

There's no good way to tell the time aside from sunrise, an approximation of noon, and sunset, but Kira thinks it's somewhere between the latter when he climbs the stairs of the inn and drags himself to his room at the end.

An hour, two? He isn't sure how many he put into the meeting, but after the meal, after hours of crowds, hours of everyone's fears and hopes and disagreements crawling over his skin--he wasn't sure he could stay upright, much less contribute anything meaningful. He'd found Ren and touched him lightly on the arm, thanking him for starting the discussion and wishing him the best, and hoped the man didn't hold too much disdain for the wan state of him as he slipped back inside.

He knew he was useless, for things like this. He knew he didn't have the stamina, or the schooling, or whatever some people wanted in someone to listen to. But he'd done his best, and he trusted a few of the people still there to not just let the subject go down in flames.

When he reaches the room, the window is open, and there's enough in him to think not to close it. The voices carry up and he can distantly follow some of the stronger ones, but he gives up trying: flops on the bed and rests an arm over his eyes, succumbing to a familiar headache behind them.

[theroadremains]

Casey was on the roof, whittling a piece of wood into the form of a cat, sprawled on its back with its paws outstretched as if to catch dust in a ray of sunlight. He had been watching the meeting from the safety of a higher vantage, leery of being anywhere near such proceedings. He had seen camps go wrong far too many a time in attempts to change or develop a different form of organization of leadership, and it manifests as an uncomfortable dread slowly crawling up his spine, regardless of the tone of the meeting. He only half catches words when volumes are raised, but he knows he's better off not knowing.

The moment he sees Kira slip away, however, he thinks he can guess where his roommate is headed. He brushes wood dust and shavings off his knees and pockets the half-finished figurine and his tools before carefully lowering himself to drop into the room.

He closes the window, shutting the voices out, and moves over to the bed to lay down beside Kira without a word initially, resting his face behind his arms and staring at the headboard in silence, uncertain of whether Kira will ask him to stay or leave, and ready to do either.

A closed thread for Sansa

[andrend]

After the meeting ended, Ren felt the tension coiling and tightening through him in a building pressure. It took considerable effort to keep his tone and his responses controlled and softened, directed at following Veronica's advice about trying a 'kinder' approach, though he no longer remembered the exact words she had used. Certainly their conversations had often turned to yelling or anger, but he knew she was intelligent, and that she often had a point, whether he agreed with her or not.

He sought Sansa out for training when the meeting had split and naturally dissipated. He didn't want to think it over more for a time. It was time to shift gears back to the young woman who had put the idea of a council into his mind in the first place.

"Are you ready?" He asked, when he found her, the metal staff held slanted at his side, as he gestured to the path back toward the mill.

[turned_to_steel]

"I am." Sansa replied, her gaze steady as she watched him approach. She held her own metal staff at her side, more like a walking stick at the moment than a weapon. Turning to follow him as he wandered past, she considered asking him how he thought the meeting went but she didn't. Maybe it was best to let them think for awhile before discussing it further. Plus he wanted to train and she wanted to show him how much work she had done.

True to her word, Sansa practiced nearly every day. If there was a day where her time was filled with other activities, she would take a little while in her room to move through some steps he had taught her. Then, more often than not, she would drop on her bed and fall asleep rather quickly due to exhaustion.

It was good, though. She was proud of herself and the things she had been learning lately. She was starting to feel useful and confident in her own abilities. So she smiled easily in Ren's direction as she quickened her step to reach his side. Akira was running alongside them.

OTA

[markwatney]

Regardless of where you're from, it's human nature to attempt to create order out of chaos. From that perspective, I can certainly understand the inclination toward further organization. I myself touted the need for it recently enough, when we all met following the discovery of the second pod. There is so much about being here that is beyond our control, and it makes sense to try and create some sort of order, even if it ends up being little more than rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

Yet, there's a reason this isn't something I've suggested before.

"I think we could all probably benefit from better organization in the areas we've been neglecting for one reason or another," I slowly begin, considering my words carefully before I speak them. "But I don't think we're lacking in it entirely. While I appreciate the idea of a council, I'm not convinced that bureaucracy is really the answer to either our continued survival or solving the mystery of this place. I know our meetings aren't exactly formal, but we're a small enough group that gathering together like this to talk about issues and decide how to address them has worked. We've never lacked for volunteers for anything, whether it be providing meat for our tables, or sowing the fields, or hunting down that creature that attacked Karen. I don't know, maybe the people watching us are waiting to see if we do something like this, if we appoint leaders, but I guess my point is that we don't have to be political to be better organized."

I rock back on my heels, hands in my pockets. "Personally, I think something more along the lines of as-needed committees would be a better answer than a formal council, with volunteering open to anyone interested in helping." This is essentially what we're doing already, but for some people, it helps to have things written down.

[3ofswords]

Kira wonders if Mark is trying to avoid something on a personal level, considering his breadth of knowledge and value to the village. It would be easy to see, if some manner of nomination and election were held, his name winding up on the list.

But he doubts it, in terms of volunteering, Mark puts in several people's shares. "I don't think any of us have the time or stomach for politics, when we're worried about getting enough food," he agrees.

"I think it should just build on what we were discussing last time--pooling knowledge, but instead of talking about this place, we learn about each other. We're getting new people all the time now, sometimes in the same day, and no matter how many plates I've handed out I don't know what everyone is capable of or what they'd do in a crisis. I didn't know what to do when the earthquake hit, or how to find someone for my hand. I think if we knew who was in charge of what, and if those people knew they were in charge, it would help more people act to the best of their skill set in an emergency. And it would tell us who to direct new people at when they have questions we don't know the answers to.

"I mean," he shrugs, pulling his coat against the hands in his pockets, "if I'm just some asocial idiot who feels this way when no one else does, that's fine, I'll have a few more chats over soup night. But if I'm not, it can't hurt?"

OTA

[ad_dicendum]

The crate which the young man had used to speak from was hardly the rostra, but that mattered little. The Inn was hardly the Senate-house, and the gathered crowd hardly the might of the Roman people come to hear and discuss its maigstrates' plans for the next assembly. Not that it matters: for all Gaius has known since he was a boy how to project his voice to be heard across the crowded forum, he can speak equally well here, now his gift of eloquence has been returned to him with the grant of the knowledge of the language all here seem to speak.

There is something uncomfortable in the young man who speaks first, a hesitation, care with his words that speaks of unfamiliarity with the setting, with the topic, with something, although what is not so easy to determine. But there is no such unease when Gracchus approaches the crate that serves as speaker's platform.

"Some form of leadership would be of great benefit to this village," he agrees, trying to speak slowly, at least at first, because he knows that the accent in which he speaks English is heavy, rolling, as awkward to their ears as a Numantine speaking Latin is to his own. "Proper leadership could provide the administration required to ensure that everyone here is fed and none die of hunger for lack of the skill to hunt or fish. It could ensure that repairs of damaged buildings are undertaken, that the village is defended against animal attacks. Much could be done to make our lives here more stable, captivity notwithstanding."

/bends space/time just a wee bit/

[candor1]

He'd been standing in the back until now, listening intently… vigilantly, really. Fighting his own wariness. Not all governments are empires. Not all leadership is a power play. Even Rebellions have infrastructure. But it was hard not to… Shush. Listen.

To this, though, he had a genuine question.

He raised his unbandaged hand, in the arm not confined by a sling, and said, just as slowly and clearly so his own accent wouldn't take arms against Gracchus's, "I'm new here. This is not a rebuttal, I genuinely don't know. To what extent are we already undertaking those things cooperatively? Enough of this community seem concerned with our collective wellbeing. This might be a communication issue—requiring centralized information, not centralized command." Control. "The individuals with relevant skills only need to know their neighbor's need in order to fill it?"

OTA for Emma

[thesavior]

Emma had gone to the inn everyday just to check in with people. She couldn’t help wanting to make sure that everyone was okay and faring well. She had already seen evidence to the contrary in some cases, so that made her extra vigilant in making sure that everyone was accounted for.

She was happy to see Ren back even though that had not had the best of starts, but she supposed that almost drowning in a fountain would make anyone cross. She herself hadn’t been having the best day when they had met. It was almost comical when she thought back on it.

She listened carefully to his words, and found herself agreeing with many of them. She had seen what rule under one person had done to her small town, while she didn’t think there were any Evil Queens lurking around, she didn’t know for sure. It was just something that was always there, causing a little niggle of nervousness and discomfort. Emma was a woman that liked to know what was going on so she could protect the people she loved. She did not like what was happening her at all.
“Excuse me,” She called out. “How would this council be chosen?”

[windchasing]

"The same way these things always are," comes a clipped grouse from the back of the crowd. "By those who have power, at the expense of those who don't."

Pietro may not have been here long, but he's seen enough governments supposedly established by the people, where the people doesn't include his. This doesn't strike him as much different.

OTA for Clint, askin' questions

[pretendtoneedme]

Clint's come with Sam; after the disappearance of Nat and Steve, he's not about to pass over any chance for more information than he already has. Everybody knows things; it's taking those bits of knowledge and putting them together into a big picture that's important right now.

The council idea has merits and flaws, and everyone seems to have some sort of opinion on it, but for the moment he's letting it slide because he's got a different question. Seems now's the right time to ask it.

"Do we even have a list anywhere of what people can do? I haven't been here all that long and I haven't met everyone, so I don't know who's a doctor or a cook or whatever. Do we have some kind of central database about jobs and who can do what job in case someone needs help, and reverse it, too? List the jobs and who can do them, and list everyone's names followed by what they can do, so in case someone's roof breaks they can find someone who can fix it or something like that."

It just seems like a more immediate problem to him than a council.

[candor1]

Much as, on one level, he'd wanted to, Cassian had opted not to follow Peggy when she left. Continuing to listen to the participants, he's rewarded. Another person asking a right question—at least, right for the idea that (along with the candidates) was presenting itself to him.

He wondered whether it would be easier or harder to perform such a function with the aim of transparency. Not just of gathering but giving information. Especially at this tech level… What would be the transmission method… would a physical location be the repository which any wanting it would have to get to, or could it be distributed…?

Again, would be a relevant question for the whole room, in accord with the intent of this meeting.

But Cassian was still at the information gathering stage. The sharing… either he'd get comfortable with it later, or that would be someone else's department.

Meanwhile, he has another face to seek out later.



…In fact…

[Flash-forward to after any other threading on this comment]

…before the meeting ended, if Cassian hadn't picked up sufficient identification of every speaker ambiently, from themselves or others saying such to the collective, he'd intercept them before they left. Which would prove the case with this speaker.

Hanging off to the side, Cassian found the moment to catch Clint's eye. He lifted his eyebrows and tilted his head in near-universal pantomime of join me a moment?

OTA

[mund]

Graves listens in silence, watchful and observant, taking in every detail -- from the way the young man speaks to what he lays out for them all, a voice of reason encouraging leadership. He's a relatively skilled orator, and one who evidently knows what he's doing.

He's in no hurry to speak up, despite the fact that creating a leadership of a sort is absolutely imperative if they are to have any chance of surviving whatever their faceless, nameless captors have for them. They are not safe here, despite the illusion of it; anyone who believes otherwise is foolish. Credence, his faithful shadow, stands two paces behind to the right, seemingly having found a vantage point that he's comfortable with in regards to observing Graves.

Graves, for another, is only just getting used to having that kind of attention fixed on him.

"So it does." He says plainly. The very foundation of a governing body is built on the men and women who choose to step to the fore, to do what needs to be done in the face of seemingly impossible odds. Not being one to pontificate, he simply continues. "We will need volunteers, and a large enough body of people gathered together to form a consensus."

He glances around, forming a mental tally. "I assume a sizeable amount are not yet here."

OTA

[ottimismo]

A council is probably a good idea. For the most part, the village's citizens seem to be relatively sound-minded, so he doesn't foresee it being too much of a problem. They'll need an organized way to decide who the council members might be, but the discussion of it seems to be doing well.

They'll figure it out. They can't keep surviving on the fragile structure they've created, it's true. And while he's been quiet as everybody else has discussed, it starts to die down, and so he speaks up.

"I think we could do with a police force," he says. "We haven't had much need for one yet, but we might eventually. And it'd be good to already have one in place instead of scrambling to get one together at the last second."

He pauses, mulling something over for a moment. "Also, if anybody is interested, I've finished setting up a sort of church. It's two houses down from the Town Hall. There's a big cross out front, you can't miss it. It's sort of shabby, but there's plenty of places to sit and pray, if anybody needs it."

[chosenbytheocean]

Moana had said her two cents and then listened to those around her. She didn't feel like they were actually going to make any progress here. So many people thought the worst of each other and so many only thought in the context of what they knew. She didn't know anything outside of her island so she didn't feel as if she could add more than the dynamics of her own small village. Something she had learned from her father; there was no point in speaking if the person you were speaking to wasn't willing to listen.

There were to many people here with to many views, no one willing to yield. Moana didn't think that there was anything she could do to help. She kept thinking about what her grandmother said and seeing things that weren't as they sounded. It was all a little confusing for her.

Seeing Sonny she stepped towards him, just in time to hear his statement about police. "Um..." She raised her hand slightly to get his attention. "What is a police force exactly?"

[markwatney]

"I really don't think we're anywhere close to needing to think about a police force," I chime in. I can see that it's a well-meant suggestion, probably made out of a need for the familiar, but I'm more than a little shocked by it, to be honest.

"Setting aside that having a police force implies the citizens need to be policed, which they so far have not, to have law enforcement, you first have to have laws. Who decides on those laws? We have people from all different times, places, universes maybe. That's a massive undertaking that I don't see the point in when for the last six months, to my knowledge, we've all been decently civil to each other." I glance around, trying to recall a time when our conflict wasn't coming from external forces. "And if someone does something that seems out of line, I would rather we all come to together to approach the situation at the time. But what we could probably use as an alternative is some kind of group to patrol for threats. I know there's been talk about that before, but I'm not sure if it got off the ground."

Closed for Kira

[andrend]

It wasn't hard for Ren to realize the meeting was not going in a productive direction for his own purposes. It seemed everyone in the village had their own agendas, and none of them were in a line he could follow. Discussions were happening, and he knew he should be grateful for that. Something was coming out of the meeting, to be sure. But all Ren could see were the useless politics of the New Republic growing into the same turmoil and unrest, the same inability to buckle down and make the hard choices, and the same lax lack of willingness to use a firm hand or voice that had led the Galaxy into the state that had made the First Order necessary in the first place.

He heard a lot of talking, and to his ears, all of it missed the point. the meeting became a forum for posing counter ideas and points, and while he had known that was likely, he had overestimated his ability to listen to ideas that felt unrelated, disjointed, and pointless in the long scheme, or even the short one. He wasn't even sure what had possessed him to start the discussion. It was never going to work out, and he had known that from the start. He had allowed himself a false sense of reason by surrounding himself with more reasonable influences. In the end, it went exactly as he had anticipated it would have.

He needed to clear his head, and he intended to do so through sparring practice with one of his students. Kira, perhaps another time. He was a bit too soft to handle the level Ren needed, but he had also been a small voice of reason in an echo chamber of mistakes.

He caught sight of Kira trying to slip away near the same time as Ren felt himself start to crack, and he followed, catching Kira just beyond the gathered group. He caught him by the arm, tension and frustration coursing through him despite the relatively light grip.

"Kira." It took strain and effort not to let his voice be compromised, not that keeping the emotion out of it helped Kira in any way. He had bit his lip to near bleeding to keep his mouth shut for most of the meeting, knowing he would only hurt his cause if he argued with the vehement responses that threatened.

[3ofswords]

People didn't often touch him--rather, Kira did not often let them, unless he had his cards, unless he'd taken a number of things to numb himself to the world. There was little of that kind of relief to be had in the village, and the cards in his pocket had no power to dampen the people around him, and--he tried. He tried as much as any one person could go without contact, in a place that frightened and exhausted him.

He tensed automatically for the grip on his arm, lifting at the elbow like he had any strength to break it. Skin to skin didn't matter, it was just this, someone inserting themself bodily into his space, so that the general pattern of emotions was directed at him. In the cloud of rising frustration and passion, Ren had just broken open and started to rain on him.

Like a bolt of lightning, he thought, then let it go.

"Ren," he answered, holding his arm at its angle, arching a brow up at the man. He couldn't expect him to know why he'd want him to let go: he never talked about this part of his abilities, he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to know. Guarding himself was almost sympathetic, he had felt such embarrassment for other people, such fear that the link one day would go both ways, and he would be this exposed to someone. If they weren't trapped here, if they weren't so weak, would it have been Ren?

Maybe with touch it's possible. Kira breathes in steady through his nose, relaxing his posture, becoming himself again. Lazy and calm, loose in his grip. Why even hold on? He wasn't going anywhere. He was comfortable, complacent. "Did you need me for something?"