| It Takes One to Know One By Jemmiah |
| Of course, the only thing that dragging your feet achieved was blisters… The fact that Jemmiah had just experienced one of the few decent conversations since Master Jinn and Obi-Wan's departure made going back to Sal-Fina's place all the more difficult to swallow. Why couldn't Sal-Fina be more like Evla, she wondered bleakly? The crèche master had been pleasant and helpful - not to mention generous with other people's chocolate! More than that she had smiled almost constantly as she had listened to what Jemmiah had said. The only kind of smile that Sal-Fina ever wore upon her features was something that came over as totally warped and twisted, as if the expression might somehow break her face. Which it probably would. Qui-Gon once told her during one of his 'dispensing of wisdom' moments that sometimes things had to get worse before they got better…that once you'd hit the bottom rung of the ladder, the only way was back up again. Why was it then that she seemed to have hit rock bottom and continued to dig? At least the thought of talking with Evla again was heartening, although the cynical part of her couldn't help but wonder if it would ever happen. Why would she want to speak to her? A mere child and a former slave into the bargain? That was about as low as you could possibly get. Thank the force that Evla didn't know about her past! But had she simply made up an excuse so that she could get away from her, politely declaring her interest in meeting her again, or had she truly meant it? Certainly that hug felt as if it had been meant - Jemmiah was sure she could still feel it still wrapped around her just like an invisible pair of arms. The lingering feeling of warmth the embrace leant her just about gave Jemmy the confidence she needed to face the cool, aloof Sal-Fina. Part of her was hoping that the master would not be in. If that weren't possible then she'd simply settle for Ambianca not being there. There was a limit to how much meaningless prattle the average human ear could stand in one sitting… If she's not there, I'll just wait outside the door.Jemmiah thought determinedly, not caring if it would make the housing block look untidy or not. Then anyone who walks past will see me there and then they'll know what a useless carer Sal-Fina is! She stabbed angrily at the door chime, her irritation brought to an annoyed spike by the fact the door chime was just too darned high to reach without standing on her tiptoes! Darn Sal-Fina for being so tall! All the better for kicking in the shin… Jemmiah reminded herself silently. It hadn't come to that yet, but if the dreadful woman kept on trying to read her diary… The door whizzed open so swiftly that air rushed past Jemmiah's nose. A few inches closer and the Corellian was left wondering if she would have been looking at mistaken amputation! Towering in front of her with arms folded over one another, Sal-Fina stood blocking the entrance with her bulky jedi robes. Great, what did she have to do to get past her? Give some sort of password? All she wanted was to retreat to her room with a bowl of reconstituted noodles and set about her homework as best she could. Surely there was nothing wrong with that? "You're late." Sal-Fina commented icily. "You don't usually care." Jemmiah replied back, letting her voice slip into a Corellian drawl. "True." The master looked her over just to make sure she wasn't all covered in grime and muck the way she imagined all non-jedi children were having spent a day at school. Having satisfied herself that it was safe to let Jemmiah into her abode without trailing sludgy shoes over her floor, Sal-Fina stepped aside. "What's your excuse anyway?" Jemmy fixed her with her best insolent glare. "The teacher detained me coz I was so stupid." She growled in an impossibly low voice. "Seams reasonable." Sal-Fina shrugged, walking away from the girl, heading towards the dining table. Jemmiah stared after her, slack-jawed. The evil witch! She wasn't supposed to take it seriously! Was that really what she thought of her? That she was so stupid that she'd be kept back in class? Especially when her precious padawan Ambianca (or Amoeba, as Jemmiah had overheard her being called) was as thick as a brick! The idea made Jemmiah seethe, and suddenly the notion of kicking Sal-Fina in the shin seemed extraordinarily appealing. No, better still; make that two shins! "Actually, I'm glad you're here." Sal-Fina astonished the Corellian girl by saying, pointing at what appeared to be a bowl of desiccated powder mixed through with little cubes of dried, toasted bread. "That's your supper." She actually got as far as putting it in the bowl? Jemmiah blinked, utterly taken aback. What's come over her? Usually it doesn't make it out of the packet without my own assistance! Something's up here…and I have a VERY bad feeling about it. The dried-up old twig-insect is obviously angling for something…some kind of deal… "I have a guest coming around." Sal-Fina informed her curtly. "So?" "I want you to stay out of the way. Think you can manage that?" The master wandered over to the mirror and began her ritual ten-minute preening session, which usually consisted of examining her face from every conceivable angle, up and down, left to right, before deciding to ignore the presence of the thin trace of lines beginning to appear at the side of her eyes. "I've sent Ambianca out with her friend Junine. She shouldn't be back until later, so I want you to keep a similar low profile." "My pleasure." Jemmiah grunted, disgusted, having a fair idea of the kind of 'guest' that Sal-Fina was inviting round. If she ran true to type then it would be male; a jedi…reasonably physically attractive but with very little in the way of brain - evidently seeing as how she'd succeeded in luring him home. Did the woman have no shame? It was all very well doing that sort of thing when you were on your own, but when you had a houseguest? After five years in a brothel there was little left to shock Jemmiah, but the antics that Sal-Fina allegedly got up to would make a Hutt blush! "So, you want me to stay in my room?" "Most certainly not." Sal-Fina replied, still studying her face in the mirror, checking her teeth for any smudged lip-paint. "If Ambianca can have the decency to clear off for a bit then you can do the same. Go get lost somewhere in the gardens or the library. And don't come back before eight standard because you won't get in." Typical, thought Jemmiah angrily. Well, who cared anyway? It was all being tallied and added to her list of grievances to tell Quiggy about when he came back - and when he did Sal-Fina's feet wouldn't touch the ground! "Fine." Jemmy picked up the bowl of odd-looking powder, sniffing at it. Great…cream of Goural. Sal-Fina knew how much she disliked Gourals. Ever since she'd casually mentioned the fact that she'd all but lived off the wretched things on Nargotria, the kriffing woman had gone out of her way to serve them to her as often as she could in as many different forms! Usually packet form, it had to be said. It was all a far cry from Evla's bars of chocolate… Sal-Fina watched her head over to the hot water urn. "Er…where do you think you are going?" She asked in a honeyed voice that made the Corellian's teeth grate. "To have supper." Jemmy pointed at the bowl, using the same sort of voice she might have to a particularly slow and stupid child. "Remember?" "Not before you've tidied this place up." Sal-Fina glanced around the near spotless room, trying to find little pernickety things for Jemmiah to do. "Straighten the rugs and the cushions. And then you can do the washing up. I'm going to take a quick refreshing beautifying nap before my guest arrives." "There isn't enough time in the galaxy to make you beautiful." Jemmy muttered under her breath. Fortunately, Sal-Fina did not hear her. "Wake me in an hour, understand?" The woman warned her, making it known through an extremely ugly series of facial contortions exactly how displeased she would be if Jemmiah failed to do just that. She let the threat linger in the air for a few seconds before finally heading towards her bedroom, taking her rather odious presence away from the living area. Jemmy stood there, bowl in hand, thinking. "She feeds me powdered yuck, makes me do her stupid household chores and then has the nerve to tell me to clear off?" The girl fumed, stamping her foot with frustrated rage. "I am SO going to get her back for this!" Not yet though. All thoughts of revenge could wait until she had carried out the tasks Sal-Fina had so considerately set her. And whilst she washed the dishes she could perhaps start to formulate some plans in her head… Thus satisfied Jemmiah wandered over to the kitchen sink, pulled out the foldout chair and clambered atop, kneeling on the padded covering. Rolling up her dress sleeves, she started to attack with a brush the greasy plates Ambianca and Sal-Fina had eaten from earlier that day, imagining that the ceramic surface was Sal-Fina's face. Oh, how she scratched at that plate! It was amazing what you could get done when you had the right frame of mind! The right frame of mind didn't last long. Dreams of revenge against Sal-Fina had fired Jemmiah for a brief few moments, turning the possibilities over like a whirlwind inside her brain until they finally began to take shape. Of course she had lots of imagination (naturally, as she was Corellian and the two went hand in glove together) but it was the execution of those ideas that sometimes let her down. That was the part that she needed coaching in, and for that she would need the help of an expert. There was only one person she knew of that fitted the bill: Menali-Jay Abran. Jemmy had heard it said that Ben's friend Jay had an extremely extensive and wicked arsenal of practical jokes - which sounded precisely the kind of thing that she was looking for! It had to be something subtle…something that wouldn't instantly draw the finger of suspicion in her direction. A natural looking misfortune, in a manner of speaking. Surely if Jay was as good as everybody said then he'd have something that would help her to get even with the miserable old space slug! The only problem as Jemmy saw it was the small matter of her own nervousness in approaching Jay without Obi-Wan being there. She'd only really spoken to him once, and whilst he'd been pleasant and courteous enough on that occasion he'd been one of the padawan's who'd subsequently ignored her as they'd sat in the refectory one day. Did she really want to get even with Sal-Fina that much, she wondered? Force, yes! All she had to do was work up the courage to talk to the boy and then hope he didn't scornfully laugh in her face and tell her to go lose herself in the crèche with all the other babies. From what she knew of Abran he seemed rather self-important and show-offish, which Jemmy didn't think bode particularly well for her chances of success. Still, she had to try! She let the plates slide into the basin of rapidly cooling water, the scrubbing motion of the brush becoming less and less rigorous. Kriff knew what Quiggy would say if he'd known she was washing Sal-Fina's dirty dishes! It occurred to Jemmiah at that moment to wonder where exactly Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were and the type of conditions that they were facing. Were they in a hot, humid climate? A jungle, perhaps, with tall, mountainous regions and strange, exotic wildlife? A desert, where the sandstorms lashed at their poor skin until it caused their faces to bleed? Maybe they'd traveled to an underwater land like that of Bant, the Mon Calamari, or somewhere cold and icy where it was impossible to sit down without your rear freezing to the ground or icicles forming on your breath as you spoke… A few months down the line from when she had first met them Jemmiah was perhaps finally ready to admit (to herself, if nobody else) precisely how much her new family unit had come to mean to her. She couldn't pinpoint a moment when the battle to keep her new protectors at arms length had been given over, but the pair of them had simply inveigled themselves into her affections without her truly realizing the extent…until they had gone. Qui-Gon was such a mystery to her - which was not to say he was as aloof as he liked to pretend - but she just knew that a man like him just HAD to have some kind of tragic past. It stood to reason: all real heroes had to be tragic or romantic, didn't they? The fact that he was considered one of the finest ever jedi to swing a sabre only served to make Jemmy feel even more proud than before, especially when one took into account the fact that there were roughly ten thousand jedi in existence. And she'd hooked one of the really good ones! Maybe if Sophie Digwurt tried anything she'd get Quiggy to chop her to bits with his lightsabre. She was pretty sure it didn't work like that but Jemmiah lived in hope. Ben seemed to know her so well that it felt rather spooky sometimes. Whenever she was about to do something rash or just plain idiotic he was usually at hand to talk some common sense into her until the red mist had cleared. Yet conversely, for all his wonderful intuition and insight, he could be terribly tactless at times and this made his character every bit as complex and unfathomable as that of Qui-Gon. He was just one of those people she liked being around…it was difficult to explain. It was as if they were both an intrinsic part of herself, except that Qui-Gon was part of her soul and Ben her heart. Yes, people would have laughed at her silly attempt to put into words the way she felt about them but it was the best she could do. Perhaps they weren't risking life and limb at all. Maybe it was a simple, stuffy and boring diplomatic mission? Or perhaps they were involved in some kind of cliched rescue of a princess and were now living in the lap of luxury as a reward for their good deeds, having the time of their lives? Jemmiah's brow darkened. She didn't like the thought of that any more than she did the idea of them coming back in pieces. Enjoy themselves without her??? No, that would be impossible. Sometimes jedi got to attend prestigious events - all in a professional capacity of course - such as balls and luncheons or huge, glitzy and dazzling social occasions thrown by individuals with more money than taste. Coruscant was full of people like that! You saw them all the time, with their artificial tans, fake jewelry and even bigger fake smiles. Huge hair, elaborate costumes held together by diamond pins, ridiculous high-heels… "I'd quite like that." Jemmiah sighed, washing the same plate over and over and over with the brush as she stared aimlessly into space. "Just for a day…as an observer. I'd hate to live like that…brrrrrr! No privacy! Imagine everybody thinking they owned you just coz you were in the public eye! It'd be like being a slave again…" Still, the glamorous outfits would be nice to try on… "No chance." Jemmy pouted, looking in the discolored water at her reflection. Her large, bright eyes looked even freakier when distorted by ripples, her chin more elfin and babyish. "I'm far too ugly to attend big parties and gala events. Maybe when I'm older…" Jemmiah glanced up at the chrono on Sal-Fina's wall: two minutes to the hour. When Quiggy came back Jemmiah would have to make a decision whether to tell him about the Aqubrand on her body, especially if there was the slightest chance that either Ferdi or An-Paj might inform him first. And then what would he think? That she was too scared to confide in him? It was little more than the truth but no doubt that reality would hurt him, and she would do almost anything to spare him that embarrassment, not to mention her own humiliation. In that case would it not simply be better to keep the truth from him? She could make it up to him, at least in her own mind, by cooking an extra big 'welcome back' meal - yes! That was a good idea! Hmmm…something with lots of rich chocolate sauce all over it… Hang on! Had the chrono said 'two minutes' to the hour? Kriff - it had! What about Sal-Fina? Any moment now her date was going to arrive at the door and she wasn't even awake! Force help her…the evil woman would murder her for sure, certainly if the look in her eyes had been anything to go by. Jemmiah dropped the remaining dishes into the sink with a clatter, wiped her hands on the side of her pinafore dress and hastened towards Sal-Fina's bedroom door, thumping on the surface three sonorous times. "I don't want you to panic or anything," Jemmy yelled at the crack, "but you've got one minute to get your butt out the bed because it's…" That was as far as she got. An audible gasp followed by a loud, undignified scrambling noise condemned the rest of Jemmy's sentence to oblivion and the Corellian child took several wary steps backwards. If Sal-Fina was going to attack her she was darn well making sure she had a clear run to the apartment exit! But it wasn't an outraged jedi master that greeted her as the door was unceremoniously flung backwards but rather one who looked totally shocked and stunned. Jemmy swallowed, not moving her eyes an inch from the sleep-addled Sal-Fina's crumpled face. "This is a joke!" Sal-Fina gawked up at the chrono, blinking in an effort to make out the numbers through sleep-crusted eyes. "I said WAKE me in plenty of time! Couldn't you even do that, you brainless Corellian street rat? Can't you count at all? I should have known," The woman scrambled towards the mirror, raking her hands through un-groomed bed-hair, "not to trust ANYONE that has anything to do with that worthless slime-stain called Jinn!" "You'll pull your hair out if you keep that up." Jemmiah opined, not particularly caring if Sal-Fina became as bald as Mace even although she felt a little bad about her unreliability. The fact was that now, through her pointless daydreaming of Quiggy and Obi-Wan, she had given Sal-Fina all the ammunition she required to insult her indefinitely. The worst of it was that she would be right. Sal-Fina snapped her head round to stare at the girl. "I'll settle for yours!" She warned her frostily. "What in the name of Yoda's sainted underwear have you been doing? I set you some simple tasks and have you even finished them?" "I couldn't help it!" Jemmiah whined, hands dropping aimlessly by her side. "I got distracted…I was thinking about Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon…" "I should have known it would have something to do with that waste of space!" Sal-Fina still didn't seem particularly furious. Panicky, yes, but not angry. Still, something told Jemmiah that now was a good time to make a swift exit in the direction of the library! "When he comes back I'm going to…FORCE! The door!" The master cursed softly under her breath at the sound of the door chime. She'd spent so long arguing with the young street tramp that the minutes had ticked away to seconds, and then in turn down to nothing…why was it that whenever you needed someone to be punctual they never were, and vice versa? "I'll get going!" Jemmy backtracked, waiting to hide behind the door so that she could make an escape as soon as whoever it was entered the room. "There's no time!" Sal-Fina grimaced. She scanned the room, hoping to find a quick solution - And then found it. For a thin, tall person Sal-Fina certainly had strength! Jemmiah didn't so much witness the distance between herself and Sal-Fina closing as feel the middling force-push against her shoulder, which was rapidly followed up by several little shoves in an effort to herd the girl over towards… The cupboard??? "Are you crazy!?!" Jemmy yelped, suddenly very afraid. "No way am I getting in there!" "Look, get in and stay quiet! I'll let you out in a few hours, I promise!" Sal-Fina hissed, flicking the cupboard door back on its hinge with the gentlest of force taps. "But NOT a sound from you, do you understand?" "Forget it!" Jemmiah shouted back at her, this time quite prepared to give Sal-Fina an argument. It wasn't so much the notion of being in a confined space that bothered her but the idea that someone - a person - would want to lock her away, trapped in the dark…she wouldn't go through that again. She'd sooner smack Sal-Fina in the mouth! "There's no light in there!" "Don't be such a baby!" Sal-Fina gave her a less gentle force-shove towards the opening. "It won't be forever. Just pretend your not there and keep your mouth shut, okay?" "But I'll suffocate!" Jemmiah protested, realizing that she was going to end up in the cupboard whether she went peacefully or not. "And then Qui-Gon will…" "You won't be mentioning this to Qui-Gon." Sal-Fina warned her as she maneuvered Jemmiah right to the mouth of the cupboard, watching with frustration as the Corellian grabbed hold of either side of the frame in a last-ditch effort to avoid the inevitable, arms and legs spread out like an inverted cross. "Let me assure you that I can think of all manner of ways to make your stay even less enjoyable if I have to. Don't make me do it…you never know how long you're going to be stuck with me! Now, get in and shut up!" And with that Jemmiah found herself thudding against the back of the cupboard wall, the breath escaping from her lungs with a soft oomph! The sound became muffled as the door slammed shut, with all light eradicated but for the tiniest crack shining around the corners of the cupboard door. The chime sounded again - dashing Jemmy's hopes that whoever it was might get bored with waiting to get let in and wander away. She'd played right into Sal-Fina's trap: the threat to tell Qui-Gon would only result in even worse treatment than before. Prepared to shove her into a darkened cupboard with hardly any room to stand, was she? Where would she draw the line? There had to be rules against this sort of thing! Jemmiah hadn't come all the way across the galaxy from Nargotria just so that she could undergo the same kind of treatment she'd received as a slave. Maybe she wasn't able to tell Quiggy about it now, or even when he came back. But one day…one day Jemmiah would drop Sal-Fina so far up to her neck in stang she'd need to be Yarael Poof to keep her head above the surface! "I'll get you for this, you scabby Dianoga dropping!" Jemmiah whispered. "You just see if I don't!" She'd tried kicking the door: a token thump with her foot, nothing more. Just so as she could register her frustration with being stuck inside the smallest, most miserable of darkened spaces she'd been in for many a year. At least the cellar on Nargotria had been roomy and she'd been able to get up and walk about, even if her arms had been clamped in retraints. Back then the problem had been rats…huge, vicious beasts that liked nothing more than to take a nibble out of a sleeping body. Then of course there had been the bone-chilling cold that came up through the hard, stone surface of the cellar floor, all carved from natural rock. Both of these problems paled into nothingness when compared to Levinstowe, who had long since haunted the caliginous nightmares that so bothered her down the years. Thinking about him made her feel physically ill, the flesh on her arms and back beginning to crawl at the memory of him... He isn't here. Jemmiah reminded herself, trying to get a grip on her fears. You're in a cupboard for star's sake! A tiny space…you'd hardly be able to miss him if he was here would you? Besides, what would someone like Levinstowe be doing in Sal-Fina's cupboard? You're scared of ghosts, that's all! Pull yourself together! She wasn't about to give Sal-Fina the satisfaction of screaming and begging to be let out, or bursting into tears. What good would tears do her anyway? Weeping was for babies! Jemmy couldn't remember the last time she had felt able to cry. She'd seen so many bad things over the last five years that she'd began to wonder if she'd become hardened to emotional situations…it wasn't that she didn't feel grief, or hurt or sadness, just that she couldn't express it easily. Qui-Gon seemed to understand this and had given her the space he felt she needed, but poor Obi-Wan had been baffled and perplexed at her inability to express herself as any normal child might. Coming from a repressed, reserved and typically stiff-upper-lipped jedi padawan, Jemmiah thought that was rich! But as she had been surprised to find, behind the placid exterior Obi-Wan was quite an emotional person. If only he were here now! He could lightsabre his way out of Sal-Fina's cupboard in no time! Jemmiah removed her shoe and rubbed at her bruised foot: just one more thing to contend with in the course of a day that had been mightily disastrous, with the single exception of meeting Evla. No doubt she'd be limping by the time she managed to make it out of her makeshift prison, not that she'd get any sympathy from Sal-Fina. The woman would no doubt just declare that it was her own fault for kicking at the door - and probably have the nerve to examine the wood just to make sure she'd not put a dent in it! How could somebody be so bitter and twisted, and still be a jedi? Weren't they supposed to be guardians of peace and justice throughout the galaxy? From what Jemmiah had seen, Sal-Fina would start a fight in an empty room! It stunned Jemmy to compare Sal-Fina with Evla; they were just so different in every aspect! Sal-Fina had no interest in anyone other than herself and her shallow-minded apprentice…unless it was male, reasonably presentable and had a pulse! And what had Mace been playing at when he'd (deliberately) assigned her to the fair-haired master? Did he hate her that much? Surely he must have known what Sal-Fina was like! Couldn't he have found someone like Evla for her to stay with? Someone - anyone - would have been better than Sal-Fina! Could it have been so hard to at least find someone who didn't like shoving kids into cupboards? "Sour-faced old Draigon!" Jemmy hissed, sitting down on the floor and hugging her legs towards her body. "I don't know what happened to make you like you are - but I hope it was VERY bad!" All the women that Jemmiah had known in her life had been kind and warm. Blunt too; cursing a blue streak and tough as permacrete when it came to the crunch, but that was excusable when taking into account the lives they'd been forced to lead. They'd all managed to find time to watch over her, even attempted to give her a rudimentary education of sorts. It was that kind of patience and friendship that Jemmiah had missed most of all. Nargotria had taught her one lesson above all others: Women = good. Men = enemy. But Coruscant had completely screwed that notion right up! Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, along with Dex and Kryztan had shown her that the galaxy was not defined purely in black or white, or that people fitted into nicely pre-assigned categories. Qui-Gon had saved her life…Obi-Wan was like the brother she'd wished Todd could have been…Dex was how she'd imagined a favorite uncle might be. Then when Sal-Fina was thrown into the mix it completely turned her theory on its head and shook it to pieces! Jemmy studied the inside of the cupboard, wondering if there was anything vaguely edible within. She couldn't hear Sal-Fina anymore; she'd evidently grabbed her visitor and trundled the unfortunate wretch into her room. Under the circumstances it was probably better that she couldn't hear what was going on! Instead the only audible sound was the growling noise of her stomach which was probably beginning to wonder if her throat had been cut! "Sorry stomach." Jemmy apologized to her innards, squeezing the muscles of her abdomen taut in a bid to stifle both the noise and her hunger. "I didn't get a chance to eat anything. Somebody whose ears I hope are burning made me wash their stupid dishes!" Even in the dark Jemmy's eyes narrowed venomously. "I hope her bed springs skewer her jedi rear!" Of course Ambianca had been well fed before being cast out into the wilderness, that much had been evident by the dirty plates! How did she feel, Jemmy wondered curiously, knowing that her master was back home 'entertaining' guests whilst she'd been told to clear out? Did she feel slighted at all? Hurt? Or had it simply not even penetrated that thick, vacuous skull of hers? Momentarily Jemmiah's resolve to include the clueless Ambianca in her revenge attack wavered. Perhaps padawan fluff-brain was just as much a victim in all this as she herself was. After all, it wasn't nice being associated with people who were fundamentally rotten to the core. If Qui-Gon, Vernice and Evla were anything to go by, Sal-Fina was not popular amongst the jedi - and surely that was bound to have an adverse affect on how they looked on Ambianca. Having spent half her life with undesirable people Jemmiah was just about prepared to give the golden haired padawan the benefit of the doubt…depending on how she reacted when she next saw her. Whatever the truth of the matter, Jemmiah was ready to bet that Evla wouldn't have shoved her aside without any food… Of course! Evla…the chocolate! Now she just knew that her meeting with the crèche master had been force-ordained! Jemmy delved into her pinafore pocket and snatched at the one remaining bar of chocolate that she had left there until after her supper. The plan had been to eat it whilst attempting to make sense of her homework but of course that was completely out of the window now! The package itself was slightly soft and squishy, partially melted by her own body heat but Jemmiah didn't care. Beggars couldn't afford to be choosers at the end of the day, and this time she had a genuine reason to eat the candy bar that her beloved Quiggy wouldn't normally have approved of. "Sorry sir." She shrugged mournfully at the cupboard walls, knowing that Qui-Gon couldn't hear her but feeling the need to say apologize for the day's gluttony. "But I've been locked up by crazy old witch so there's not much I can do about it. Hope you understand." She could almost hear him acknowledging her right to eat that last bar of chocolate - yet admonishing her for the ones she'd eaten previously… Too soon the chocolate had vanished from its wrapper and there was nothing else to do except lick the cocoa residue from her fingers, and stare once again at the oppressive black walls surrounding her. All she could do was wait, and hope that Sal-Fina's partner got exhausted pretty quickly… The next thing Jemmiah was aware of was talking…well, muttering…in the background. Giggling infact! Blearily the Corellian girl stifled a yawn, covering her mouth with her hand out of sheer good-manners even although in the cupboard there was nobody there to castigate her for bad behavior. Had she fallen asleep? It was soooo stuffy inside and her eyes felt so heavy that keeping them open was a real problem. The side of her skull felt numb and tingly, the pins-and-needles sensation confirming that she had fallen asleep with her head resting against the wall. Similarly her legs ached with cramp when she moved them out of their folded position and Jemmy hissed as the jabbing feeling took hold of her circulatory-starved limbs. Trying to rub some life back into them, she wondered exactly how long she'd been stuck inside the much-cursed cupboard! Force, this was intolerable! If she didn't get out soon she would kick and scream no matter what Sal-Fina thought about it! The giggling returned again, and this time Jemmiah was able to trace the source as being Ambianca! So, if the Amoeba was back that meant that Sal-Fina's guest had departed? Vaguely Jemmiah thought she recollected the sound of doors being closed and opened…it had been such a muddle! Jemmy sighed with relief, letting her body slump slackly back against the wall. She hadn't been joking when she'd thought she might well go mad if she didn't get…not to mention that the air was terribly poor. Well, she'd kept her end of the bargain - she'd made barely a sound during the entire time Master Falmar's guest had been inside the apartment. Now it was about time that Sal-Fina reciprocated that grudging condescension and opened the door. And sure enough there came the sound of footsteps heading over towards the direction of the cupboard. Two sets of footsteps infact, that of both master and apprentice… Changing direction at the last moment and making instead for the main door! Jemmiah sat blot upright, disbelievingly straining her ears to catch any conversation that might give some kind of clue as to what was going on! Why didn't they just let her out? Were they just deliberately being cruel and pretending to leave her in there? "I'm looking forward to this holopic, master." Ambianca was saying in an enthusiastic sounding voice. "I have to admit that Rex Victory is a very smart looking man!" "He certainly is, padawan." Sal-Fina agreed warmly amidst the gentle sound of whooshing air as the door swung backwards. "And do you know, I think we might go on to that restaurant afterwards. It's supposed to be very good and I know the manager there…" Jemmiah gasped, not believing a word she was hearing. They WERE going to leave her in there, no pretend about it! Gritting her teeth she aimed yet another kick at the door with her good foot, then waited to hear what result her actions might have precipitated, ear pressed against the cupboard. "Do you know," Sal-Fina's voice sounded distinctly distant, "I have the feeling that I've forgotten something? Oh, well. Nevermind, I'm sure it will come back in time…" And then the door closed behind them, leaving Jemmiah every bit as trapped inside Sal-Fina's tiny chamber of horror as before…this time with rapidly diminishing air. Quiggy, help me! Jemmy prayed desperately for help. Or else I might not be here by the time you come back! |
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