Logs:Paige's Plant Allergy
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| RL Date: 5 July, 2008 |
| Who: Paige, T'aren, Nerine, A'riste, D'kai |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Paige gets a super-spiffy rash after trying to help someone out in the herb gardens and is saved from the boys (and T'aren who keeps insisting that he's an honorable father) by Nerine's timely arrival. |
| Where: Infirmary, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 31, Month 11, Turn 16 (Interval 10) |
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| "I could just intimidate them into submission," and, braving the wrath of a nearby Journeywoman, Dekelvai lifts his arms and bares his teeth over Aeriste. "Worked real well with Palia," he chuckles ruefully. "Thought I was good with kids, but you... Really, Aeriste, that was excellent, the way you, you know. Talked to her. Sang for her. Good on you." Paige is doing her best to refrain from clawing madly at her skin as she's hauled into the infirmary by a tall, female bluerider - probably the girl's aunt. Nudging her toward one of the journeymen on duty, the older woman says something about 'gardens' and 'skin reaction' before ducking back out, calling something that's meant to be cheerily encouraging over her shoulder. Ushering her to a nearby seat, the journeyman takes in the bright dots that sweep over the girl's face, neck and arms with a sympathetic sort of 'tsk.' "You've got yourself a fabulous rash, young lady, " he says at last, motioning for her to stay put while he heads over to obtain some creme or salve for it. T'aren comes in from the bowl. T'aren has arrived. Aeriste shakes his head slightly at Deke. "I never know what to do with them when they start pooing and running around and stuff like that except to hand them over to someone else. When they start crying, sometimes you can sing to them... But she was an audience, right? And we're supposed to smile and tease and stuff. Even a little audience, since we've got to teach littles, too." And he looks over at Paige. "I'm so glad they're just giving us menial stuff to do. I'd hate to touch sores and stuff. Anything that oozes just makes my throat clench up, ugh. I hope she'll be all right anyway." "Shells and shards, would you lock up that great yabbering hole in your brain, you're leaking babble everywhere." Is the accusatory baritone from T'aren as he enters, one hand putting pressure on a few rags that are settled on the inside of his palm, "I'm here already," Is the further comment to the air (easily guessed as the rider portion of an on-going -- scolding? harassing? something? from his dragon. "Its just an itty bitty cut, for crying out loud." This is decidedly an exasperated complaint as he shuffles towards one of the apprentices, lifting the rags, to which the girl chuckles and is gone and back again with something to clean the wound and a light bandage that is swiftly wrapped around it. Its as the impatient bronzerider taps his foot, waiting for things to progress, that he takes in the other occupants of the infirmary with his hazel gaze, raising his uninjured hand in greeting to the pair of candidates, bluerider, and ward. Dekelvai grins back at Aeriste - "And I know exactly what to do when they starts pooing and running around and stuff. Big brother." And he thumbs his chest, almost proudly. But Paige's entrance has quite distracted him, and he squints at the girl, though he spares a roll of his eyes at the retreating blue rider. "No, hey, that's- Paige, isn't it?" He raises his voice slightly with this last to catch her attention, though mutters towards Aeriste, "Doesn't look too oozy to me. For a Harper you're awfully tactless. Don't you know you're supposed to put on your happy face and pretend all's well?" Calls over to the girl with a wave of his hand, "Lookin' good, Paige! Spots suit you. And... T'aren?" Deke rolls forward on his toes, craning his neck. "All intact, sir?" Eyes scrunched briefly shut, perhaps in an effort to ward off the plague of itchiness that stems from all those spots, it takes Paige a moment to register that there are other people nearby. Make that vaguely familiar people. Her brow furrows a little at Aeriste's less than tactful comment about spots that ooze, lightening just a tad as Deke calls over. "Heh, thanks, " she says at last, shaking her head a little. "Can't believe the durn plants got to me like that. Never had this problem at home." Still, she manages a small smile for the others present, followed soon after by a grimace. The journeyman tending her has apparently gotten caught up with some sort of discussion near the supply shelves, despite having the creme in hand. "I'm supposed to perform all the time, is that it?" Aeriste sounds vaguely disgruntled. "Didn't know I was supposed to have a bedside manner, or anything like that. That's for Healers. I'm a Candidate right now anyway, aren't I? I should be sweeping, not comforting. If I get too close anyway, whatever's got her might get me, and then I'll be itchy, and who'll comfort me? Do you want to see me cranky AND itchy? There's a method to my tactlessness, Dekelvai." Even if there might be a little too much tactlessness to his method. "Do you think we're going to have to clean up medical waste next? Hopefully you need to be trained for that, first, right? Wouldn't want to accidentally put bloody bandages somewhere, um. Where they shouldn't go. Like the necessaries. Ugh." Nerine has arrived. Dekelvai says "Of course you are, Aer, you're a Harper," Dekelvai says, mildly, though not without a smile - it's as much for the boy as it is for Paige, and sympathetically he glares at the Journeyman's back, as though willing him to return and tend to his patient like a good little healer. He shuffled a bit nearer to the girl, still close enough to speak with Aeriste but now close enough to Paige to avoid the growing wrath of the healers - what were those useless Candidates doing, anyway? The taller one's broom is /broken/, too. - and asks pleasantly, "Go for a little roll in the garden?" And, turning his back towards Aeriste with a thoughtful grimace: "Certainly hope not. That's not even something /I'd/ hop to with gusto. Nah, I'm sticking with sweeping. Might wipe down a counter, or two." Suddenly, he narrows his eyes at the other Candidate. "Hey, hang on, I'm not even supposed to be the one working, here..."" "Ah, here you are, miss, " says the journeyman somewhat sheepishly, holding up the pot of creme cheerfully as he finally makes it back to rash-ridden Paige; she can't help but to exhale in relief as he begins to apply the cool, soothing remedy, however temporary it may be. As Dekelvai shuffles nearer, her eyebrows take a hike, expression startled. "A lil roll in the garden? You're pullin' m'leg, right?" Scandalized, she's apparently unsure whether to take that comment as a friendly joke or an actual question. Aeriste edges away from Dekelvai: let the other lad take his assignments like a man! He goes back to sweeping, look, he's being *very* industrious, see? "Ugh, counters. Can you imagine what gets dripped on them? Probably worse than what was in the latrines, come to think of it, because people come here about things that are coming out of them in places things shouldn't come out of!" "As intact as I ever am." T'aren responds once the apprentice has finished with his hand, wiggling his fingers as proof of his statement, though there are certainly enough rumors of the man being a bit of a crack pot to make the words' humorous inflection have meaning. As he heads towards the candidates, Aeriste is given a sizing-up glance, and a brow raises and nose wrinkles at the query from the candidate to the other. "Who's rolling in the garden?" Tru inquires with vague interest - never much one to listen to the gossip, but here it is shoved in his face, so a glance is cast towards Paige. As ever, the bronzerider's near-complete lack of social acuity shows up right on schedule as after the looking over of the girl he tosses a grin towards Dekelvai, "I can see why someone would." Though, as opposed to most 'leering, jeering brazen bronzers', T'aren's words carry the lilt of the simple rather than grotesque. To both Aeriste and Paige, he offers: "T'aren - well met." "Just a bit more blood, wouldn't it be? Can't imagine anything worse than you'd find in the latrines. And well you would know, eh?" Dekelvai nods over Aeriste, as though approvingly, as Paige is finally ministered to, though he smiles uncertainly at her sudden horror. "What? Me? Pulling your leg? No, never. Unless you'd like me to?" Bemused, he puts out a hand towards the aforementioned leg, and it's wholly uncertain whether he's being genuinely dense or playfully so. But before he can actually grasp at the girl, he's grinning towards T'aren, nodding at his hand, "What'd you do, anyway, sir?" Paige wrinkles her nose over at Aeriste, although the effect is rather lost while the healer is dabbing creme atop it. "Y'worry 'bout that all the time?" she can't help asking, just a little perplexed. But then T'aren's looking her over and the girl flushes just that much more, fidgeting a little. "Paige, " the owner of that name manages to get out after a few moments, peeking over at the bronzerider while automatically trying to shift backward away from Deke's reaching hand. "Nice t'meetcha, too." Aeriste looks from Deke to T'aren. "Aeriste. And Faranth's pus-covered entrails!" Evidently, his surroundings are inspiring him to new levels of profanity. How many of the ancient Queen's body parts will he defile by the day's end? "I wouldn't blame her," he drawls archly, "For running right out of this infirmary, what with your roving eyes, and your-" And he nods to his fellow candidate, "Roving hands. And you remark on MY manners." The dustpile at his feet has begun to reach truly magnificent proportions, and fortunately it's just plain dust and not all mixed up with spleens and pustules and such. Paige's question to him just makes him blink. "Worry about what all the time?" A low groan is heard at the entrance to the infirmary. Tired silver blue eyes fix on the group convened in the infirmary but she goes straight for the jars of numb weed. Grabbing a jar she takes a seat and begins working the salve into skin and tired muscle. "Well you all certainly haven't lost your touch," she says wrinkling a nose at the vivid descriptions floating through the conversation. "Seems being a candidate brings out the worst in your manners." She glances over and finally notices T'aren, regarding him with a bright smile. "How fairs the Capitan? I haven't forgotten my promise to paint that wall; I've just been preoccupied with other duties. "She grins. Both brows leap into life as they spring high on T'aren's forehead at Aeriste's profanity, not because its profanity, but rather because of the colorfulness of it. He bursts into laughter, his chuckle rumbling away from him and into the air. "Well, I hope Faranth never had any of those, Candidate, else we might never have had the First Egg to begin with and then where would you be? Back wherever you came from and maybe not even there as the Red Star would've long since gobbled all of Pern up. Just you use a bit more respect when you're talking of the mother of all your protectors." The scolding is toned brightly enough that its not really a scold, but more an amused discussion of his particular choice of wording. "Well met, Paige." He repeats, with a grin for the girl, "Fort's duties and all that to --" A glance is cast to the former Harper for confirmation of his interpretation, " --Balen Hold, is it?" Then to Dekelvai, "Have you been taking lessons from the greenriders?" Perhaps this is in response to his roving hand. Nerine, as she joins the lot, is offered a grin. "Oh, fretting like an old woman," Pause. Without the Infirmary there's a derisive draconic snort, "But otherwise well enough, Nerine, and yourself?" All thoughts of accosting Paige forgotten at Aeriste's colourful profanity, Dekelvai turns towards the harper and rocks back on his heels, lifting his eyebrows, and the look he gives the other boy is more akin to respect than astonishment. He does, however, protest, "I do not have... roving hands!" But there's a sparkling glint to his eyes, and it's certainly not innocence, as he clasps said hands behind his back. "Worry about Faranth's pus-covered entrails, of course. Or perhaps her inflamed eyeball, or her raging case of-" (he breaks off, in respect for Paige, and Nerine) "-ah, or any other variety of disgusting ailments you can imagine up in that vivid little harper head of yours. Me, Nerine?" He lays a hand on his chest, thoroughly offended at this suggestion he might be /anything/ but the most perfect gentleman. "Naturally not." The fisher scoffs, though he eyes T'aren and asks, "Why? Who've you been talking to that says I am? They're dirty liars, if they did. And you didn't tell me what happened to your hand." Ah ha, that's some clever diversion, Deke. Paige, despite looking rather uncomfortable, doesn't quite bolt from the infirmary. To her credit, she's able to carry on with a safer line of conversation, offended sensibilities or no. "What's on surfaces. Things, " she answers Aeriste, nodding in his direction. "I mean - i'nt an infirmary s'posed t'be clean? Or mostly clean?" But then the harper gets creative with his profanity, and her eyes just round. Deke's list of wondrous ailments don't help matters any, so it's with some relief that she settles instead for a wave in Nerine's direction and a cheery, "Hullo again, Nerine." Save her from the adolescent males! Aeriste nods to T'aren twice: once for the remonstration, to which he remarks quite neutrally, "I'd be at the Harper Hall, practicing for a magnificent Turnover Day's performance," and once to confirm his interpretation. Both nods are about the same length: brief but emphatic. And Dekelvai's additions to their repertoire of disrespect to the founding Dam makes Aeriste give him just as respectful a look as he was given. "I'll have to remember those. For, uh." And he shrugs at T'aren. "Academic purposes. 'Profanity encountered whilst living at a weyr, Volume One.' Filed under 'Language'." What Paige says, though, makes him stop and ponder for a serious moment. (Unfortunately, he also stops sweeping.) And finally muse, "Aren't harpers supposed to preoccupy themselves with what's on the surface of things, as well as what's underneath?" Nerine, though, just gets a snort. "Not hardly." "Well," There's a yawn, and a streeeetch from Dekelvai, and a quick glance around the room, "It's getting pretty late. Don't stay up too long sweeping, Aeriste," he admonishes the other boy with a laugh, "You never know what's for tomorrow's chores. Sir," (a nod for T'aren) "Miss," (and Paige) "And Nerine, of course-" (a light touch towards her shoulder) "Good night!" And the boy trots out into the night-darkened Bowl. Dekelvai has disconnected. Nerine leans toward the other female as if to offer some support but she seems less tolerant of the mischief than usual. "I have few enough complaints T'aren," she smiles, and it seems more sincere somehow. She sighs at Deke and Aeriste, "I suppose it is too much to hope for an improvement but really, must we terrify the girl? I rather like having Paige around but you two seem intent on scaring her off." She sighs leaning in Paige's direction. "Really they are quite harmless but their imaginations are ... well a little too vivid." She smiles. She gives a warm smile to Deke as he leaves. She streaches. "Oh, I was practicing a technique the WoodCrafter showed me for a project I'm working on. Little boats." T'aren responds to Dekelvai's inquiry, shifting his hands to show the dimensions to be two hands by one. "Tool slipped and sliced my hand. Its nothing, but the Captain tends to get over excited about things." Understatement of the Interval! He flicks his gaze towards Paige once more, hardly adolescent in anything more than mind! But as she seems content to greet Nerine, he doesn't interject towards her. "No," T'aren responds to Aeriste, pulling up a finger to twitch at the lad, "You'd be learning to breath under water because there wouldn't have been anywhere safe for any of the Passes. Or living amongst the grubs. And they're hardly a fine audience, Turnover Day or not." The bronzerider then notes with a point to Dekelvai, "Southern Boll Fisherman. If you want to learn to swear, spend a sevenday with a seacrafter, Aeriste," There's a cheerful grin for this, and easy guesses that the rider might have done exactly this on one or more occasion. A glance flicks to Nerine, "Hey, she was the one rolling around with someone in the garden." And so words twist into rumor! And, being that its socially unaware T'aren speaking it, its probably entirely unintentional. "I'll take yer word for it, " Paige replies to Nerine, smiling a bit. "They kinda remind me of some of the boys back home. Real - rowdy types, those're." Finally, the healer finishes applying the creme, leaving the girl with a shiny, somewhat smeared face, but probably without a horrific itch. Catching T'aren's second glance, she returns his look with a shy sort of smile - and promptly reddens again. "Wasn't rollin' in no garden with someone!" she protests. "Touched an herb t'help someone gather somethin' and then /this/ started." "Stop making me out to be some ravening woman-eater, Nerine," Aeriste grouses sourly at her. "Again. I don't have any nefarious designs on anyone, alright? Not to frighten them and not anything else. Now him--" He points at T'aren. "He's the one being perverted!" The bronzerider's words about seacrafters make him shudder, though. "No, thank you. I'm not going anywhere near a ship. Dekelvai was talking about fish guts and it just sounds horrid." Nerine rolls her eyes at T'aren with a bright laugh. "A bath is just a bath, but herb collecting becomes a mating right?" the thought puts a bright but tainted smile on her lips. "You'll have to forgive some of us Paige, Weyr life is *very* different from the hold." Her silver gaze turns on the girl. As she rubs her right shoulder. There is something in her face as she makes that statement. "Some of us aren't really aware of the differences. You get used to them ... sometimes." "You weren't?" T'aren queries with a confused blink, then more confusion arrives at the accusation of perversion. "I beg your pardon, but I'm being nothing of the kind. I was simply repeating that which I heard." And a little of his own observation. Arms fold across the man's chest, and his own expression hardens, "I'll have you know, Candidate," The title is punctuated in such a way that clearly indicates offense was taken, "That I am a father, and a rider. And never in all my days has anyone - not candidate or otherwise had the gross mis-estimation that finds me 'perverse'. Be cautious, boy, who you give insult to. I thought Harpers were supposed to be cleverer in their delivery," And with that the candidate is summarily dismissed from T'aren's world. His hazel gaze sweeps towards Paige and he executes a slight bow, which is really more his heels clicking together and head dipping than anything, "Apologies for any offense caused by my poor hearing. Its hard to hear anything over the prattle that goes on in here." A finger is flicked towards his head. Whether he means his own prattle or that of the dragon he's bonded to? Who knows. A shrug is given to Nerine, "Simply repeating what I heard." However flawed that might be. "If you'll excuse me." This is to both ladies, and the bronzerider turns, striding towards the bowl. T'aren moves out the cavernous opening leading to the Infirmary. T'aren has left. Aeriste, white-faced and shocked into silence, stares after T'aren. He turns to sweep up the dust into a pan, drops the contents into the trash, and then steps out. "Wasn't, " repeats Paige firmly, scooting off of her seat with a cautious glance toward the healers. Satisfied that they're not bustling back over to check on her, she regards Nerine carefully for a long moment, giving a slow nod. "I dun think m'folks would be too happy if'n I did, somehow, " she says at last. "Get used t'the Weyr, at least. S'why they're makin' sure I keep my visit short." A funny little grimace twists her expression as she watches T'aren leave; shrugging, she stifles a yawn with one hand and gives the two an apologetic smile. "I guess I oughta turn in 'fore m'aunt comes a'tearin' after me. I'll uh -- " There's a pause as she catches sight of Aeriste's shocked, white face. " -- see y'all 'round." Scuttle. Aeriste walks out the door to the Living Cavern, shutting it behind him carefully. The noise level rises and then drops precipitously during the opening and shutting of the door. Aeriste has left. |
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