Logs:Healer Inquest: Supper Considerations
| |
|---|
| RL Date: 6 January, 2014 |
| Who: Kharma, Setephon |
| Involves: Healer Hall |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two of the masters involved in the inquest consider some key points of the testimony they'd heard. |
| Where: Healer Hall |
| When: Day 6, Month 10, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Several interviews have taken place in the past few days. There still may be a session or two more with some others involved in the affair at High Reaches Weyr, but for now, with the major testimonies heard, it's difficult for the masters elected to the inquest board not to speak. All the more reason to keep them sequestered in private quarters, even for the dinner hours. Setephon is ready at the table, early, his notepad (and the very few notes he's taken on it throughout their various meetings) set off to the side of his plate, empty still. But the food is arriving; the plate won't be empty long. By the way he watches the first person carrying in a plate (with what appears to be slices of roast wherry on it), the man's quite ready for this dinner to begin. Kharma enters in a swish of fabric and a cloud of her powdery perfume, tall and proud even in the simple act of walking to her seat. It's only in the safety of their private quarters that she allows her stern mask to crack, wrinkles folding into a thin-lipped smile. "Evening, Setephon." Gathering her dress up in her hands, she eases into a seat with a soft sigh, rolling her wrists in a flourish before folding her hands on the table. "I don't know what it is about these interviews that inspires such an appetite..." He's not the only one looking forward to their meal. "Could be," offers Setephon, waiting (to his credit) until the wherry plate has been set down before reaching for the utensils that came on it, "that watching those people fidget on the other side of the table inspires some sympathetic fidgeting in us? All that movement." He nods lightly toward Kharma's plate, willing to serve her first, even while veggies and some sort of legume dish arrive. Those eyes are on the ones bringing the meal; no specific details of the interview come out of his mouth while they're present. "It isn't as if we're going to bite." Though from the sound of it, Kharma has been tempted. She lifts her plate, the disc shaking only slightly in her grip as she passes it along. "Or it could be the lack of activity. One of my fosterlings, Katrine, she used to eat when she was bored." Kharma is merciful in keeping the tale short. Given the amount of children she's fostered, it's likely she has enough story to fill an entire evening and then some. Setephon takes that plate, placing two slices of meat on it, and then holding it up for Kharma - either to take back, or to inspect for portion size. "The topic's not the most comfortable one," comes as he watches the last server, close the door. "A prolonged death, and one none of us, I think, can properly understand needing." Is there doubt in his mind that Teris needed it? Not expressed in that statement. Kharma accepts the plate as it is, a murmur of thanks slipping from brightly painted lips. With a rumble of displeasure, "Or are even attempting to understand." She'll shed her stoic nature behind closed doors, still composed if willing to let her bias shine through. She frowns some, attention shifting to the veggies in order to serve herself some. Setephon is quiet for a moment, serving himself. The veggies are nearer Kharma, the legume dish, toward the empty places at the table. "It bothers me," he says, only once he's reached to add said legumes to the wherry he'd claimed only a moment earlier, "that lack of... understanding. After a turn at the Weyr. Not long, but surely long enough to see that something... else that typifies the dragonriders. And to proceed without trying to understand it..." "To refuse Telgar Weyr one of their own back." Stern. Disappointed-Mother stern. Kharma passes what dishes she can to Setephon, as he wants them. "While we have no evidence, I sometimes wonder if something like this couldn't be done out of... spite." It's not an accusation, but a hypothetical. "Though it's impossible to get a read on the boy." Yes, even at 26 turns he's considered as much as far as Kharma is concerned. "Should empathy," Setephon carries on, thoughtfully, even once he's passing the veggies back toward Kharma, the dish lighter thanks to those that had joined his plate, "be a prerequisite in a healer? I think that may be his biggest problem. He wants rationality... but people aren't rational. Not when their health, their lives, are in the balance." And now, to skewer that first tasty tuber with a fork. "If only we could take Madilla's excess and pour it into Miska. Then we'd have the balance he seems to so crave." On a more serious note, "I honestly don't know. Having a cool demeanor in a crisis isn't usually a bad thing." Usually. Kharma is forceful if precise in cutting her roast wherry, "He's terribly young to think that he knows better than a whole Weyr full of riders. Than tradition." Setephon chews carefully, and is sure to finish all in his mouth before moving to speak again. "Empathy doesn't mean panic. But isn't it the duty of a good healer to treat the mind as well as the body? At least as best he or she can. Calm, reassure, comfort, within reason. They have their own healing properties." The knife is taken; he cuts a bite-sized bit of wherry. Kharma's lips thin, though the bright red makes it impossible for them to disappear, "Of course it is." Be it thought or the roast wherry that inspires silence, it'll be after she takes a sip of wine that the woman continues, "I can't fault him for doing what he thought was best." There is a 'but' that is left unsaid, lest she sound completely incapable of objectivity. "Hmm." It's not satisfied, but it's not dismissive. A few more mouthfuls follow, while the master glances to those few notations he's made, off to the side. "It surprised me that the Weyr did not do more. Purview or no. Not even the leadership, necessarily - they might understand the politics better - but what of the rest? Whenever I've been there, I've never found riders to be soft-spoken, on the whole." It's enough to have that frown returning as Kharma considers what is being said. "I can't imagine he's well liked after all of this. Not to say that riders are dangerous folk..." Another 'but'. "They're passionate people." Or can be, when dragons are involved. "Which makes your point even more valid, I suppose. It could be a number of reasons." And even with her own Weyr experience, Kharma doesn't have an answer. "They can't possibly send him back to the Weyr," sounds of agreement. "It's the rest of his career... can Miska be taught to take other views into account? To recognise when there are elements he does not understand?" There's a notable concern in Setephon's voice, for all he has no real personal connection with the young healer. "It's hard to get a read of any young person when they're on the defensive from the start." Kharma says, "Not that Weyr. Not any." Kharma agrees, lifting her fork and shakily chewing on another thin slice of wherry. As for the rest of his career, "He's young. He can be taught, if he's willing to learn from this terrible mistake." Which is to say that even she has a difficulty reading Miska. "He's been without incident until now. It could be that he's an incredibly bad fit for the flexability required in a Weyr." Even in the middle of a meal, Kharma's age shows in a stifled yawn behind the back of her hand. She isn't likely to fall asleep at the table, but she may be excused before long." "Not that Weyr. Not any." Kharma agrees, lifting her fork and shakily chewing on another thin slice of wherry. As for the rest of his career, "He's young. He can be taught, if he's willing to learn from this terrible mistake." Which is to say that even she has a difficulty reading Miska. "He's been without incident until now. It could be that he's an incredibly bad fit for the flexability required in a Weyr." Even in the middle of a meal, Kharma's age shows in a stifled yawn behind the back of her hand. She isn't likely to fall asleep at the table, but she may be excused before long. "I hope so," decides Setephon after a moment. "Taught also to consider the quality of life in its value. And the quality of death, also." From there, he seems intent to go quiet, to focus on his meal. Maybe more will come out as they finish. Maybe not. |
Leave A Comment