Logs:Averting Disaster

From NorCon MUSH
Averting Disaster
"You've saved me from breaking my neck; I think that's plenty."
RL Date: 27 June, 2010
Who: B'tal, Madilla
Involves: High Reaches Weyr
Type: Log
What: B'tal averts disaster! Maybe.
Where: Madilla's Quarters, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 21, Month 1, Turn 23 (Interval 10)


Icon madilla.jpg


Madilla's Room, High Reaches Weyr

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There's something undeniably cozy about this little room off the resident quarters, making it comfortable despite its small size. To the left of the door is a small wooden table with two chairs, the wood covered with a piece of rich, creamy fabric matched in the patchwork cushions set tidily on each chair. A lopsided red vase sits in the middle of the table, usually filled with brightly coloured flowers.

To the right of the door, in the far corner, is the narrow bed, made with fresh linens and covered with an oversized quilt designed out of patches of cream, blue and red. A wooden press sits at the end of it, and, just beyond that, several hooks in the wall provide hanging space. A battered, sagging couch sits in the other corner, its tattered fabric mostly covered with another quilt.

A few baskets of glows light the little room, but, otherwise, the walls are bare.


Just after dinner on a snowy winter's day finds Madilla safely ensconsed in her room - shoes off, hair down, her shawl abandoned over the back of one chair. The healer herself is standing on a chair, quite precarious, apparently attempting to string a brightly coloured quilt up from a new hook on the wall. The door is ajar: either she's expecting company, or she's simply forgotten.

Whether B'tal is expected company or not, he takes the open door as an invitation to come in with just a knock against the frame as he enters. "Whoa," is the first thing he says, instantly concerned about the healer standing on the chair like that. "Should you be up there like that?" he asks as he crosses quickly toward her, an arm aiming to... help somehow. He's not really sure so mostly just attempts to hold the chair steady and be there if she needs him.

Madilla looks-- all right, she looks guilty, glancing around as B'tal enters, cheeks going slightly pink. "It's-- fine," she attempts, but as he steadies the chair, and she turns back to her efforts, she drops the edge of the quilt, and the whole thing falls to the floor. "Or maybe not. I don't know. I was... impatient." Read: silly. Which she sounds most embarrassed about. "Maybe you should do it for me? If you can help me get down. I'm not sure if I'll manage on my own, now that I think about it."

The greenrider might not look that strong, especially not compared to some of the mountains they have wandering around the Weyr, but he is a dragonrider and he's done those same firestone tossing exercises that the rest of them have. B'tal reaches to grab Madilla around the hips with a hook of his arm, intending on lifting her there and setting her on the ground without much need for her to do anything but not flail. There's something vaguely agitated in his expression, just for a handful of moments, but he doesn't go so far as to scold her outright. He offers a quick glance down to her belly even as he says, "Yeah, I'll do it." But he doesn't do it right away, instead moving a hand to touch that roundness, any agitation or worry softening almost right away.

Madilla doesn't flail, and, indeed, barely moves at all until she's safely on the ground again. Her gaze lowers to the floor; he may not scold, but she obviously feels the weight of it anyway, even after it's faded from him. Perhaps it's reassuring that, as his hand touches her belly, there's a definite kick: hello! "I'm sorry," she says, then. "It seemed like the most important thing, at the time. And now... I don't see why. I won't do it again."

A dimpling grin breaks out across B'tal's face when that kick jerks under his hand. He probably even forgets what he was doing or that he was almost mad a moment ago. "Just don't want to see you get hurt," he says, dismissing the apology as unnecessary and ignoring the fact that, you know, babies kind of hurt. "You should be taking it easy anyway, right?" He finally draws his hands away from her and shifts his attention toward the quilt that she'd been trying to hang up.

"I know," says Madilla, a little rueful smile curving over her lips. "On both counts. It's silly, too: it's likely that I'll be moving in a couple of months, anyway, when the new craft complex opens up, but I can't help myself. I want everything to be ready and perfect, when he or she arrives." She watches B'tal as he turns his attention to the quilt, adding, "Thank you."

B'tal picks up the fallen quilt and looks up to figure out what goes where before he pulls the chair to where he wants it and glances back at Madilla. "You don't have to do everything alone." He doesn't sound exasperated or anything, in fact he offers her one of his boyish smiles then turns back to step up on the chair to try this himself. "What all do we-- uh, you still need?" He seems a little confused as to what exactly he should be saying there but fortunately is still turned away.

"I know that, too," says Madilla, with a little smile of her own. "I'm just not very good at asking for help. I think--" she glances around. The room is increasingly cluttered, these days: she's brought a cradle out of storage, all kinds of clothes, various supplies. "I don't even know." It's a wry little admission. "I barely know where to start. Isn't that awful? I feel like I should know everything about all of this."

"I know," says B'tal, voice understanding. He's not very good at asking for help, either, after all. "I can help you go through it sometime if you want. If you're having a hard time finding something, I can find it, to." No probably there. He'll find whatever she needs. He's confident of that, if somewhat distracted currently as he hooks up the last bit of the quilt. "That straight?" he asks her since it's harder to tell from up close. "Anyway, hard to know about things you haven't done before. Wouldn't think this is any different. Like impressing, in a way. People can tell you what it's like but you never really know until it happens to you."

Madilla stands back to watch the quilt placement, bracing her back with one hand. "I'd like that," she says. "I'm glad I have you to help, truly. I don't think I'd want to manage on my own. Just a little to the left, I think. It looks good: all that colour brightens the room, doesn't it?" She sits, after that, on one of the vacant chairs, stretching uncomfortably. "I suppose that's true. It can be completely different between one person and the next. Or so I'm told, anyway."

A little to the left. B'tal leans back slightly to see if he can figure out just how much to the left he needs to go but, well, if Madilla's watching, it doesn't really matter so he just goes until she says when. "It does, yeah. Brighten things." As he turns to step down off of the chair, he glances at her and his brow twists slightly. "Everything will be fine, though." Even if it's through pure force of will on his own part! "Are you feeling okay? I could go get something if you need it." Is she sick of hearing that yet?

Madilla does say when, and seems distinctly pleased with the result, if the beaming smile she gives to the greenrider is anything to go by. "Thank you," she says again. "It will be fine. Of course it will be fine. Everything's progressing normally, I'm-- yes, I'm feeling fine. A bit tired, these days, and sore, but I'm doing fine. Delifa was on bedrest for months before she delivered: in comparison to that, I couldn't possibly complain." Not that that stops her from stretching again, shifting her shoulders uncomfortably. "I don't need anything. Truly. You've saved me from breaking my neck; I think that's plenty."

B'tal studies Madilla as though he doesn't quite believe that she doesn't need anything. He's probably rather used to being told exactly what other people in his life need when they want something and, hesitant to assume anything, he just takes her at her word with a small smile. "Good. That's good." He lingers, awkward now that disaster has been averted. Then he says, tentatively, "I, uh, suppose I should leave you to your evening? If there's no more acrobatics to be had." Even if it was hardly anything that dramatic.

Madilla's expression is neutral under all that scrutiny, except for the smile that breaks out towards the end. "Oh-- well, I suppose so," she allows, finally. "It was lovely to see you, B'tal. You'll come and see me again soon? Perhaps you could bring me some tropical fruit or something. I think I'm supposed to ask for strange things, aren't I?" But she'll wave him off without too much more fuss, smiling all the way.

"Right-- I... right." Strange things. B'tal doesn't get much out as he heads for the door, pausing to turn back there. "I'll come and see you again." Of course he will. Liable to make a downright nuisance of himself before long. "I'll maybe bring something by tomorrow. Uh," he pauses as though he's trying to figure out something else to say but all he manages is, "Have a good evening, Madilla. No more standing on chairs." That at least gets a small smile, then he's turning to go, leaving the door the same way he found it.



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