Logs:Don't Forget
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| RL Date: 4 December, 2014 |
| Who: Miska, Prinavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Telgar Weyr, Healer Hall |
| Type: Log |
| What: Prinavi stops by the infirmary to order Teris home. Miska has other ideas. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 6, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Chilly. |
| Mentions: Teris/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. It's the afternoon of the eleventh when Prinavi exits the council chambers and makes her way down into the bowl, into the lower caverns, and then the infirmary. Just within the door, the Telgar goldrider inhales deeply, only to exhale a shallow, but audible breath. Fashioning a warm, if neutral, look on her face, she makes her way towards the counter and raps sharp knuckles on the surface to gain someone's attention. Throughout, those dark eyes of hers are sweeping the room once, twice, and thrice, very clearly taking in more detail with each scan. Normally an apprentice would be the one to answer such a summons, stutteringly, and find the healer-in-charge, but Miska is at hand, going over the morning's charts. He looks up at the knocking, a vague emotion crossing his pale features, before he takes the necessary steps forward to present himself to the goldrider's view. Blinking, he drops his gaze to the shoulder knot, and then up to her face. "Weyrwoman," he intones, with a full nod in respect, "how may I help you?" Doubtless, he knows the reason, but he asks anyway. Prinavi leans. Her arms fold beneath her chest, and she leans into that counter. "You," she begins in a quiet, above reproach, respectful tone, "Have something that belongs to me." Emotionless, pale green eyes study Prinavi. "Teris?" Miska asks, simply. "Yes," is Prinavi's, just as simple, response. But those knuckles start to drag idly across the counter, and she seems, somehow, transfixed by her own motion. "I'm afraid," without the faintest flicker of emotion or, better yet, remorse, "she is indisposed, but I will be happy to report in when I can." Miska doesn't look down or acknowledge the movement, but focuses on the dark woman's face, offering that small respect of attention. It's like he's not hearing her. But that doesn't matter, cause it's not like she's really hearing him. Prinavi's knuckles stop dragging and she straightens, looking past Miska to a far curtained bed. "This is your notice that Telgar will return to retrieve our rider and that you will forfeit her to people who know and understand her needs better." She's not even disdainful. It's absolutely matter-of-fact. She's about to leave, but then turns and studies Miska, lifting a finger about his head, "Mmm, you should do something about your hair. It looks like you've been up all night. They make creams for that." And turns again. To leave. Maybe. "Your healers let your goldrider become addicted to a common medical treatment." Miska lets that sink in, flaxen brows lifting, "We are treating her for her fellis addiction and once she's sober, she can make the decision to end her life or not." He stands firm, hardly showing reaction to her comment about his hair, save a faint quirking of one brow. She's almost at the door when she stops again, turning slowly with a flat look, no longer warm and cuddly Prinavi. "When you have marks, you can do whatever you want and adults don't need nannies. She did it to herself and if you find fault with our healers, take it up with your Hall as we will be taking you up with them." Might as well. Suits and countersuits, the Pernese version! As the door pushes open for her to exit, she does flash a brilliant smile at Miska, "Don't forget what I said about your hair. You'd be prettier if it was less," fluttery fingers indicate whatever it is about Miska's hair that is unappealing to her. She might even let the door hit her on her ass on her way out. |
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