Logs:Captive Audience
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| RL Date: 12 August, 2014 |
| Who: V'ros, Klohi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Klohi is the auditory salt in V'ros' wounds as he waits in the Infirmary. He needs to work on his mean face. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 7, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Quinlys/Mentions |
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| Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr Two sets of double doors, one from the the inner caverns and a recently built set from the dragon infirmary, lead into the unnaturally hushed human infirmary. Despite fastidious cleaning, the scent of redwort and numbweed has long since soaked into every smooth-carved surface, along with other, subtler medicinal smells. Pristinely made cots are lined up against the walls; most of them are left open to view, but some in the back are surrounded by curtains for delicate procedures or critical patients. About halfway between the two entrances is the counter for the healers on duty; it guards the entrance to the storage rooms just beyond, their shelves and cabinets lined with meticulously labeled bottles, boxes, jars, and even vats of supplies. The Weyrhealer's office is also here, along with another side room for mixing up medicines and the like.
Among the hustle and bustle is Klohi, who is nursing one hand with the other, two bandaged fingers taped together. Escorting her is a very tired looking healer apprentice, who must reassure the greenrider through a stream of, "It'll grow back, right? And what if it hurts later? Do you think that Journeyman even knows what she's doing?" Klohi shoots a glare behind her shoulder, face smoothing as she turns back to the young man by her side, "I'm serious. It will grow back? You promise?" His voice is tired as he asks for her to sit and wait while he goes to find something for the pain-that-will-be. If the apprentice takes his time, well. Nobody should blame him. Ever the anti-social, V'ros makes sure, when the healer suggests that the greenrider sit - because who doesn't eavesdrop these days - that he scoots as far away from her possible seat. He even manages to angle his body the other way, scowling to make sure if she gets any funny ideas.. well, just look at that mean face he's making. Klohi will sit, crossing one leg over the other and (gingerly) folding her arms. Her foot bounces once. Twice. There's almost a third, until her legs uncross and impact the ground with a light tap, and a gusty sigh. Finally, "Can you believe how slow things are around here?" Surely the loud critism won't hurt her chances of leaving at a timely manner. She's looking right at V'ros, "How long have you been waiting?" She doesn't seem scared off by that mean face. "It's an infirmary," V'ros grumbles, giving Klohi the side-eye. "It's always busy." He is surly as a tunnelsnake one hand securely holding the other arm, and hunched over in his version of the fetal position. "I don't know, I haven't been counting. Something like fifteen minutes." At least he offers that, though not in the nicest of voices, and without a salute even! There must be some kind of pain, otherwise that weyrling isn't too smart. There's a dismissive puff of air for V'ros' logic, not that there are any critiques to be made. Klohi seems rather oblivious, the lack of a salute not even phasing the greenrider as she leans over to inspect him. "What's your problem, anyway?" And not that he asked, "I broke my nail... Oh, and sprained my fingers." Clearly that's not as important as the first part. After another once-over, "I mean, are you even really hurt? Or faking to get out of lessons?" Sometimes friendliness earns you friends, and sometimes it freaks people out. V'ros starts as the greenrider leans in, trying his best to lean away. "I don't think.. that's any of your business." He gives her a wary, mistrustful look. "Can you.. not.. do that?" Leaning, apparently - he's not a fan of people being in his space bubble. "I'm not.. I'm not faking! I got some, uh, scrapes." That's about as elaborate as he gets, cradling the arm closer; quite the tight-lipped chap. Klohi doesn't lean for long, just enough to inspect his scrapes before she's back in her own, better, bubble. As for it being any of her business, "I'm just trying to pass the time. It's not like you're all that interesting or anything." V'ros is just there. Her injured hand resting in her lap, the greenrider inspects her other nails, ensuring their perfection. "That sounds super convincing." Her painted lips purse in amusement at his expense, bright red making the motion obvious. "If you are faking, I won't tell. I used to do a bunch when I was a weyrling." They might as well stick their tongues out at each other. "Good, stay over there," he says, under his breath, scooting over just a tad more. V'ros looks up as a healer passes, but no one calls his name, so he's left to continue that awkward conversation with Klohi. "I don't skip class. I like class.. sometimes.. and I wouldn't lie to Quinlys. Do you know what she would 'do' to me?" Because the Weyrlingmaster has eyes in the back of her head.. and maybe steel knuckles. "There's nothing to tell." "Yeah, Quinlys can be a real bitch sometimes." Said as casually as everything else, as Klohi is still distracted by her nails. "I think the only reason I graduated was because we were so sick of each other." It's not so difficult to believe, given Klohi's... being Klohi. Finally gracing V'ros with a glance, "Hate to break it to you, but it doesn't get better. You graduate, and it's all the same. Worse, sometimes." Her haughty expression has softened some, as if bestowing some great wisdom on the weyrling. "Hey!" V'ros looks appalled by the word, or mere suggestion, that Quinlys is anything but inspiring and trustworthy. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that." He has a stubborn set to his jaw, his uninjured hand closing into a fist. They're both saved from an altercation by the healer, who calls, "V'ros?" To which he gets an eager, "here!" in response. The weyrling jumps up, giving Klohi one more pointed glare, and then he's chasing after the fast moving healer, off to some corner of the infirmary where they can assess his damages. |
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