Logs:For What?
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| RL Date: 3 December, 2014 |
| Who: K'zin, Miska |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Healer Hall |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin comes to wait some more and gets into it over philosophical differences with the interim Weyrhealer. |
| Where: Infirmary and Weyrhealer's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 6, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Madilla/Mentions, Teris/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Forward-dated. |
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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.
Just because one of Pern's infamous goldriders gets laid up in the infirmary at the Reaches doesn't mean the rest of the Weyr stops what it's doing. People get sick, injured, and worse, and the healers have to tend to said maladies, as is routine. It's not surprising then when the bronzerider isn't immediately approached, but it's a passing apprentice who alerts the interim-in-charge healer to K'zin's presence in their waiting area. Miska shows up a bit later, looking himself like he's been run through the gauntlet, with his hair muses where it normally is perfect, his eyes red and bagged. He has his hands full of paperwork when he strides up to the hungover rider, his mouth compressed with what can only be construed as disappointment. "You're here for Teris?" K'zin's squint becomes a wince, because loud. No, not actually loud, just hungover loud. It's a whole different scale. It's after his next swallow of klah that he says, quietly, "Yes." Just that. Then, "Does she need anything?" A ride between, maybe? Sympathy is not forthcoming, and he doesn't even speak any words for an unseemly amount of time. Miska stands back and regards the younger man with callous scrutiny; is he trying to diagnose? "She needs.. time." "Time for what?" K'zin tilts his head so he can look up at the healer, his brows furrowed with what might be his own discomfort or concern for the goldrider. "Doesn't she want to be with Iskiveth?" This last is asked a bit dumbly, as if he can't imagine an alternative. The healer waits for K'zin to finish speaking, before sitting down next to him. "Teris might want to do that, or she might not. There are several accounts of riders choosing to live after their dragons have gone between. Fort's newest bronzerider, for example," he suggests, helpfully. The way K'zin looks at the healer suggests the healer has ceased to speak some comprehensible language. "But she's a queen's rider." He says it as if it's an obvious and cogent argument. He swallows convulsively and then puts his mug to his lips. "A new bronzerider and a goldrider who had turns and turns with her lifemate... It's different." He tries, as if that will help the non-rider with understanding the situation. "What Teris chooses to do with her life - to end it or not to - is her business and hers alone. As long as she is coherent and sober whilst doing so, of course," Miska says, like this is a conversation he has often and without much concern; it could be interpreted as rude, but then, he's a healer trained to have a good poker face for the worst kinds of news. The silence and lack of surprise is telling. K'zin knows. "But what can it matter, making her do this now," alone, "if she's just going to end it all anyway?" He seems convinced of this much and maybe that's because, "She'll choose to end it to get her next fix, if that's what it takes." "Mm." Miska makes the knowing-sound and nods his head, slowly, while he stares out straight ahead rather than at the bronzerider at his side. "We cannot know what she would do, because she isn't sober." He crosses one long leg over the other, making himself comfortable in an otherwise uncomfortable situation. "Rather to be known as doing the honorable thing, if that's what it's called." "But she was," K'zin has to say it, doesn't he? Miska wouldn't believe Teris if she did, would he? "I mean, I think she was. That's--" Then the bronzerider seems to realize they're, oh, here in the waiting area. So he's struggling to his feet, his body protesting the movement with a slosh of klah over his hand. It must not be hot though. "Can we go somewhere private, Journeyman?" Miska gives K'zin a stare that says he'd rather be fishing, or at least sleeping, but with a sigh that seeps into his words, he stands and starts to guide the bronzerider towards the Weyrhealer's office. "I can't think anything's been honorable about it, but-" He pushes open the partly-closed door and saunters in like he owns the place - which he does, for the meantime. "Shut the door and try not to get any of that on any of this." Klah on the paperwork, specifically. K'zin won't get his klah on anything but not because of the healer currently occupying the space. The younger man even hesitates once he realizes where he's being led. The younger man is frowning. "You mean about your behavior? I agree." This is off to an excellent start. "In any case, she came here because she was looking for a fix. If she'd been other-than-sober, she'd've been somewhere enjoying it." Miska grabs his chair by the arms and lowers himself down to sitting, but his stare his leveled on K'zin; a stare that continues as he folds his arms above his head, crossing his legs, and just.. stares. There's a subtle narrowing of his eyes that's easily missed, a quirking of the mouth, but he doesn't comment on the bronzerider's comment. "I am more comfortable being on the safe side and waiting it out. I doubt if she was sober enough, went through the withdrawal, she'd be out here looking for more." "What good is it going to do?" K'zin demands, exasperated now. "She won't want to live without Iskiveth. Ask her. Addiction changes a lot of things, but not that." Never that. There's restrained anger in his face to top the hangover irritability. The calm, slightly indulgent expression on Miska's face doesn't change through K'zin's spiel, not even when he starts displaying irritability. "I can ask her after she's detoxed too. I am much more comfortable with that answer than the constant plea for fellis." He laces his fingers behind his head and studies the dragonrider with appropriate consideration. "You seem to know a lot about Teris. Your cross-Weyr mate?" "I don't give a shard what you're more comfortable with. I was all for getting her off the fellis while Iskiveth was here, but she's not, and she never will be," there's resolve in K'zin's baritone, but it sounds more like the way one recites Harper verse than one for whom the loss has really sunk in. "If Madilla were here..." He starts, glaring at Miska now, not deigning to dignify his last question with a response. "Madilla is not and it's my call. I respect your opinion, rider, but if that's all you've come to complain about, I have things to tend to." There's a pointed stare there, for K'zin, that holds the weight of authority in it - however abused and maligned, in this sense. Bronzerider, meet door. "Asshole." K'zin will call it like he sees it. But since this is really Madilla's office, he doesn't throw his cup of klah on his way out. That's respect. |
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