Logs:Never
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| RL Date: 12 November, 2009 |
| Who: Gabrion, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Gabrion is worried about Madilla, after his exchange with W'chek. Madilla is more dismissive of it, though still grateful that she knows. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 3, Turn 21 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: W'chek/Mentions |
| 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. Gabrion is not, it must be said, the most punctual creature. He's usually on time for work, more or less, if you spot him five minutes a couple of times a week. But today he's here quite early, a full fifteen minutes before his shift begins. He hangs up his coat and hat and, before he does anything else, he goes looking for Madilla. "Morning," he says to her, chipper and smiling. "How're you doing today, Madilla?" Madilla /is/ one of those punctual creatures, one of the ones who is always early for a shift, and usually stays back late, as well. It's nauseating, really. This morning, she can be found in the workroom, bent over a beaker that she's steadily filling with finely chopped herbs from her chopping board. At the sound of Gabrion's greeting, she tilts her head upwards, a smile blossoming on her face as she listens. "Hello, Gabrion. I'm well, thank you... and from the looks of it, so are you, am I right?" "Yeah," Gabrion says, leaning a shoulder against the wall and watching Madilla's hands as she chops. Admiring her technique, maybe. "Slept well, and all that... some mornings are just good mornings. Uh. Something I wanted to talk to you about, though..." There's a change in the tone of his voice and in his posture that suggests he may be about to deliver unwelcome news. "/Good/," enthuses Madilla, with another of those brilliant smiles. She's obviously had a lot of practice at this chopping - a baker would have no qualms with her technique. "But-- what is it? I talked to Delifa, she's written a letter, so you don't need to worry about that." She looks at him earnestly. "I think you're in with a good chance. It may take a little while, but we'll get there." "No, no," Gabrion says, though he does look fleetingly pleased about the letter. "It's not that. It's - okay, so the other day, when you were at lunch? W'chek came by. You know, the bronzerider. And he was asking questions about you and stuff." He frowns slightly. Madilla's hand stills, still holding on to her knife, but no longer chopping. She frowns. "W'chek did?" That revelation has taken all comments about the letter out of her mind; she looks pensive. "I wish he'd stop that. He has no hold over me, anymore. I think I ought to talk to him." "Yeah, it was kind of weird." Gabrion seems relieved that Madilla is taking him seriously. "I mean, he's come by before and just asked if you were here and then left when you weren't. But this was different. He was asking if you were, you know, with anyone. And said some stuff about how he wanted you to stay a nice girl or whatever." He rolls his eyes. "I told him it was none of his business. It was all just kind of weird, you know?" He straightens up from leaning against the wall. "I can - I can talk to him if you want. Tell him to leave you alone." And get ground into the dirt of the bowl, probably, but the offer stands! Carefully, Madilla sets down her knife, and nods, somewhat reluctantly. "I appreciate the offer, Gabrion, I do, but I thought I ought to talk to him myself. We..." She breaks off, drawing her features together into a thoughtful expression before she continues, "He and I were going to get married. Before I found out that he was--" Her head bobs forward, not at Gabrion, but just a gesture of 'you know'. "He still feels some sort of protectiveness, and it's not warranted. He shouldn't be asking such things of you. Or anyone." "No, he shouldn't. It's probably not the first time," Gabrion warns her. "He didn't want me to tell you he was asking. So I bet he's been doing that a while. Do you know what his deal is?" he asks, distaste evident in his voice. "I mean, he goes around all the time like he's got an axe-handle shoved up his... I mean, he's just really rude and nasty for no reason at all. Lots of times I've been eating with people in the living cavern and he just waltzes up and starts insulting me out of nowhere. It's kind of bizarre." His frown deepens as a thought occurs to him. "He doesn't - I mean, has he ever, like, threatened you or tried to hit you or anything? Because if so..." Madilla looks troubled, inclining her head into a careful nod though she seems reluctant as much as in agreement. She answers that last question first, and with a firm shake of her head. "Threatened me? Oh, no, no. Never. It's not like that, Gabrion. I know what he can be like with people, but he's... he was always very good to me. He's just an unhappy person, I think, and I wish he'd..." She breaks off again, staring off into the distance unhappily. "I wish I could do something to help him. So he'd let himself be happier, and nicer." Gabrion snorts in disbelief. "Let himself?" He grunts. "Riiight. Well... yeah, well, anyway. I just wanted to let you know he was being creepy. If he comes back I won't tell him a think. If you want, I can just tell him he can't come in unless he needs a healer." "Let himself," says Madilla, firmly. "He didn't expect to Impress, you know. He was just going to go home, and we'd get married, and everything would be fine. He's still... I think he's still not comfortable with it. He'll get there." She has faith, even when none is warranted. "Don't tell him anything, but you don't need to tell him to go away. I'll talk to him myself. I'm glad you told me, though." Her frown is back in position. "I would have thought he'd be... over this, by now." "You'd think," Gabrion agrees with a roll of his eyes. "Alright, well. If he does get all weird on you, better tell someone. He's a bronzerider, they generally think they can do whatever they want to people. I guess a lot of times they can, but. There's lots of people would stick up for you if you needed it," he says firmly. Madilla manages, despite her obvious discomfort and unhappiness, to give Gabrion a smile. "I appreciate it," she tells him, genuinely. "I'm glad I have people like you looking out for me. I'm sure it won't be a problem, but... just in case." "Exactly." Gabrion smiles back. "Just in case." It's not like he's /eager/ to get squished attempting to defend Madilla. Well, maybe a little. But only a little. "Alright, I better go see who's coming in this morning and get the cubicles set up." Boys will be boys, after all. "All right," agrees Madilla, as she reaches for her knife again. "Thanks again, Gabrion. And-- let's hope we have some good news soon, hmm?" Gabrion ducks his head, this time, as he grins. "Yeah. Hope so. ...thanks," he adds, bashfully, and then he scurries off to take care of morning business. |
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