Logs:Tour, Curtailed - Secrets, Shared
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| RL Date: 21 March, 2015 |
| Who: Eliyaveith, Lilah, N'rov, Tess |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: N'rov finally plays tour guide, only to have the tour cut short when they happen upon a golden damsel in distress. Though N'rov disappears, Lilah and Tess share some secrets. |
| Where: All over Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 4, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Madilla/Mentions, Milataeri/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Old school style, going room to room~ |
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| Living Cavern, Fort Weyr Fort's enormous living cavern is a vast, echoing space, with deep set windows carved into the outer wall to let in light and fresh air. Large enough to house the entire human population of the Weyr with plenty of room to spare, the most common use of the living cavern is as a communal eating and gathering space. Long tables with benches usually line the main part of the cavern with a four-seater table set aside for the Weyrleaders as well as other smaller tables set along the walls for quieter dining. Tapestries depicting historic moments in the Weyr's history and scenery from the coverage area decorate the walls and lend the space a warmer feel than bare stone. To the east, a large doorway leads out to the bowl, with a sturdy metal door that can be closed during inclement weather or Threadfall. The nighthearth is tucked away in a little alcove near the door. The large main hearth is used for cooking and for heat, sharing a wall with the kitchen's big hearths and banks of ovens. Chairs are often pulled up by the hearth for the Weyr's elderly to enjoy the heat. A swinging door allows easy passage back and forth between the caverns and the kitchen. To the west, a passage opens up into the Weyr's inner caverns.
His own plate scraped clean some time ago, N'rov's been hanging out with his wingmates longer than he has to; still, eventually he sees fit to abandon ship. There's a detour along the way, make that two, but when he stops it's by Tess. He knocks on her table, a quick rap. Tess' eyelashes flutter as she looks to the hand that knocked and then up to the face of its owner, tilting her head, and letting just the ghost of a smile touch her lips as she says quite as if she were behind closed door, "Who is it?" Her mezzo lifts and the lilt has the feel of a trill though it never comes fully into her voice. "Tour guide." N'rov doesn't give it a whole lot of inflection, but what there is is up and down. singsong. For all that, his face doesn't give much away, as though there were that door between them. "Oh, perfect! I've just finished my lunch," Tess enthuses with voice alone, taking a page from N'rov's book. She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth, before saying, "Do come in, tour guide." Only then does she flash him a real smile. N'rov locates one for her in return, possibly pulled out of his back pocket, but there isn't any lint clinging to those white teeth. "How soon can you be ready?" he cuts to the chase, leaning his knuckles against the tabletop with much the same attitude as a man might lean against a doorframe. "It depends on how you feel about detouring by a dish bin," Tess answers him evenly, before lifting a hand to shift items on her tray so that they might be carried to just such a bin more easily. Presumably, he can either detour with her, or wait for her return. There's a judicious pause. Then, "Not that much of an emergency," N'rov decides with a gesture of one hand and a curl of a smile: have at it. He'll wait, where 'wait' means amiable small talk with others seated beyond her. Upon her return, "A detour for a rain slicker would also be advisable, I hear." This time he straightens from his lean, with an easy clap of his palm on the tabletop like shutting a door. "You want to start the tour in my room?" Tess' expression feigns scandal. "I mean, I'd heard about bronzeriders, but I'd have thought that more of a finishing move," she contemplates with no seriousness to the feigned expression. Then she's quick to flash a smile, "I have one hanging on the hook," she gestures to where the mass of outerwear occupies the wall like an overgrown, eccentrically-scaled tunnelsnake. N'rov slants a brow at her, then waits her out, tolerantly. "Now that that's out of your system," he says, "let's go get it. Your shoes look sensible enough." He hadn't looked at them just now, so he must have checked out that much before, when she was dealing with dishes. With that, he heads for the wall with no apparent concern about being engulfed; real tunnelsnakes may have smooth hide, but he'll pull off his own jacket-scale anyway. N'rov slants a brow at her, then waits her out, tolerantly. "Now that that's out of your system," he says, "let's go get it. Your shoes look sensible enough." He hadn't looked at them just now, so he must have checked out that much before, when she was dealing with dishes. With that, he heads for the wall with no apparent concern about being engulfed; real tunnelsnakes may have smooth hide, but he'll pull off his own jacket-scale anyway. "Don't worry, tour guide," Tess quips over her shoulder as she leans to collect a small bag from beneath the table, "I'm not interested in getting in your pants." His head, maybe, but that's not an admission the blonde makes just now. "I'm really quite harmless," she claims as she follows him to pull the oilskin down. It's at least a size too large, but that doesn't seem to bother her a bit as she shrugs into it and makes short work of the buttons. "You picked a lovely day for this, I must say." "Just for you," N'rov says, his tone distinctly dry. With that, he heads out into the wet, pulling up his hood at the last minute. You head out into the bowl.
This section of the bowl is just as devoid of plantlife as the central portion, the sandy soil having been packed more solidly due to the sheer amount of foot traffic passing through. While there are weyrs located to both the east and west, there are very few toward the north. Toward the northwest would be the ledges for the junior goldriders, while a second flight of stairs leads up to the Weyrleaders' complex. A little to the northeast is the entrance to the hatching cavern, while an entrance to the living cavern is located directly to the east. At the opposite and distant southeastern end of the bowl would be the lake and feeding grounds, with the weyrling barracks and infirmary to the southwest and southeast, respectively.
"A bit. It's an interesting place to be. The bowl. Comings, goings, dragons, people." Tess answers with a little roll of her shoulders. "I haven't gone into many of the entrances, though." "Good thing. Most of them like their privacy; just because you can get to it on foot, doesn't mean you should. Those ledges, those are the weyrleaders', and the juniors'," N'rov glances at Tess before adding, "Including Hematite's, back in the day." In the previous Pass, by the sounds of it. Beyond that... well, we'll get there." Unless they don't. "Time for a walk." Briskly, even, though he keeps an eye on how she's doing with the mud. You head to the southwest.
This end of the bowl is grassy and serene with the pretty blue of the lake nearby as a draw for residents, riders and dragons alike. Since the earthslide collapsed in the spring of turn 23, a dramatic view of the mountain slopes that circle the Weyr has opened up beyond the lake, where a faint misty haze often shimmers above the small waterfall. The feeding grounds are fenced off to on the northeastern end of the lake, just a short walk from the weyrling barracks, the Weyrleader's complex, the hatching complex, living cavern, and infirmary.
"Putting it in in the first place would be a nightmare," N'rov says, stepping neatly into that silence while the rain falls and falls. "Not to mention all that runoff. Then come drains, and then comes... ah, the infirmary, hallowed sanctum." "True. I hadn't even thought on it that much." Tess might have lapsed into silence to dedicate a moment to it now, but there's the infirmary. "That's a must-know for anyone, I'd think, lest one lose a finger or some such and not know where to turn." She looks in its direction and contemplates. "So that one's old news. What about something I haven't seen? Something more rider-y oriented that a dragon-less person wouldn't need to know about?" N'rov contemplates her; then, deadpan, "Well, there is the abattoir. Though we'd have to turn around. Same with the sands, though we /could/ try the barracks. Or the feeding pens, how about that?" "Is a little blood supposed to unnerve me, rider?" Tess asks, a single brow arching in challenge. "Waiting to see if I'm just a delicate fainting flower to be caught in a swoon? I'm not." She's amused though, says her smile. "But I'd like to see the barracks most, so let's start there? We can always loop back for the blood," is added cheerfully. "'Caught.' Quite the presumption," N'rov drawls, though not without a certain sardonic humor. "Barracks, this way." He takes the 'shortcut' that's angled across the Bowl, mud or no mud, skirting the odd dragon settled in like an island. With this rain, it might even be difficult to see /where/ he's headed, only that he seems to know the way. It's a slog. Tess' lips curl into something wry, "My mother did me the disservice of raising me to think of men as gentlemen. I've not yet been able to reverse my understanding no matter how many times I've swooned right into the mud in front of an ill-mannered man." As the need for slogging increases, the blonde says, "Tell me true, did you pick today, this weather, this mud just to get back at your wingleader for volunteering you?" "How many times would that be?" the bronzerider inquires with interest, holding up a finger to suggest one topic at a time. "I'm sorry," Tess affects a tone of sincere apology, "I just can't count that high." One side of her mouth pulls out of the false expression and into a semblance of a smirk. Eliyaveith isn't far from the infirmary, (just a short hop), which may hint at Lilah's presence within. But then, for a while now, both dragon and rider have not been seen often in each other's company often outside of duties, something happening there. The large gold has sunk into mud unhappily, staring at her paw as slow ichor seeps from a scrape. Her head whips around at hearing N'rov's voice as the pair draws closer, though, a quiet, summoning warble made from the queen towards the bronzerider in this rain. "Right," says N'rov, glancing down at her hooded head. "And your other answer is 'No.' I applied for a storm, lightning, the whole works," to which he adds a snap of his fingers to show just how thwarted he was. But there's the dragon's warble, and he's automatically turned to look. "This is Eliyaveith," he adds for Tess as he changes direction. "She's sort of dragon-y. I'm sure she counts." Tess' mouth opens with, no doubt, some pithy rejoinder for his thwarted intentions, but at the shift of focus, her mouth closes and she regards the gold thoughtfully. "Quite, I would say." She tilts her head slightly before asking, "Is it customary to greet a dragon as one might greet any other stranger?" Customary or not, Eliyaveith's neck stretches to allow her to sniff over Tess, her nose pressing only light against the young woman. Whatever she smells, it is followed soon by a huff of warm breath over her before she swings her head around to press her muzzle expectantly against N'rov. A soft, whiney noise escapes even as she does. N'rov has just enough time to consider out loud, "I think she'll forgive you not dropping to your knees. Given the... mud," because that muzzle is muddy, isn't it. In fact, /still/ muddy. Now his chest is muddy. Giving up, he rubs at her hide instead of his oilskin. "Queens. Naturally regal. Aren't you, big girl?" Too bad for N'rov that it didn't all come off on Tess' shirt. She might not be unnerved by blood but she does take a moment to look momentarily frustrated as she considers the mud mark on her shirt. On the other hand, she didn't turn and run screaming from sudden confrontation with a giant golden head, so she gets points for that, right? The moment of frustration passes and she schools her expression as she looks back to the dragon, perhaps mostly ignoring the man's words for now. "Pleasure to meet you, Eliyaveith. I'm Tess." Just in case the gold cares. Eliyaveith bumps her head against N'rov's chest at that, mockingly indignant, before she gives in to a purr-like rumble as his fingers rub golden hide. But then Tess is speaking, earning a look from the queen that lingers. She draws away from N'rov only to sniff at Tess again, briefly, before nudging at her pointedly and then nudging at her back paw, the one oozing ichor. His chuckle is a low rumble too. But once the golden muddifier turns to Tess, N'rov busies himself with holding his oilskin out so the rain can get to it and wash all the mud right off. Tess looks from the dragon to the man and back. "It might be more convenient for knowing what she wants if she were your dragon. You would look so good with a nice shiny accessory," as if she's forgotten he has one in a different shade. Still, she obliges in guessing what the new nudge means, moving in that direction. Once green is spotted against gold hide, the blonde frowns and she moves nearer. "She has a scrape," she observes, not moving to touch, just looking at it. Eliyaveith doesn't seem to want anything from N'rov, anymore. Instead, the queen has settled in to looking at Tess expectantly, even helping by warbling as she correctly identifies that scrape there that must have happened when she landed. After all, her paws are rather large, even for the size of her body. "It would, but then I'd have to deal with it," N'rov says comfortably, reaching over to try and pat Eliyaveith instead of the other way around. Even so, "A scrape? How bad? Can't be too bad or else Lilah would be out here instead of... whatevering." Given the expectancy, the young woman reaches out a hand at the same time as she leans closer to look. "Seems like the kind of thing a little bit of mud would be good for," is directed to N'rov with an element of wryness there, but underscored with concern. "I'm sure a dragonhealer would know better." Tess' blue gaze lifts toward the gold, "Is Weyrwoman Lilah fetching someone for you?" Eliyaveith allows N'rov that pat, leaning in to it even as she regards Tess, otherwise remaining perfectly still for the young woman. The question only earns a dismissive huff from the queen, actually managing regality in that sound. "There's no help for it, she's bonded to you now," N'rov says dryly. "Re-Impression. We aren't supposed to tell people about it, but you're one of us now." He rounds Eliyaveith to look at the wound. He grimaces then, his words suddenly quick and crisp. "Tell you what. You stay with her, I'll go find someone and send them your way. Shellls." That's the last word before he starts back towards the caverns. Tess' eyes follow the rider as he goes, shifting up from her lean to step back and look at the dragon. "Does it pain you much?" It's questioned simply. She has patience and will wait for the appropriate authority to arrive. Eliyaveith's head bobs in a nod at the question, though it doesn't seem that bad to drive her to seek help beyond the young woman at the moment. That drawing away only has the dragon nudging at Tess again, a light touch of her muzzle to her chest. "Are you always so inclined toward physical contact?" The young woman queries curiously, even as she lifts a hand in offering. Tess may have little enough experience with dragons, but surely she's known animals in the course of her training; perhaps there's some transfer of the scratching skills. Eliyaveith rumbles in an answer, though whether Tess will be able to decode that one is uncertain as she rubs her jaw against those fingers until they meet the exact spot that she wants. It is Lilah that answers aloud, the sound of rain covering her approach, with a dry, "Towards anyone that she claims as family, mostly. There must be something about you that she likes." Tess' fingers jerk out of position as she turns, surprised, to look over her shoulder at the weyrwoman after she speaks. "Perhaps it's my complete uselessness in cases of scratched paws. I've heard that's a very likeable trait in non-riders," it's a return of dryness for dryness. "Weyrwoman Lilah," she greets more properly, "It's nice to see you again." "Tess," Lilah greets simply, her dark gaze sliding to weigh on Eliyaveith instead of the young woman even as she greets the dragon with her own, "You couldn't even call me to tell me? N'rov had to come find me." There's a sharp edge of censure there, though the goldrider only breathes out a sigh and looks back to Tess. "Don't worry about that; I will take care of it. If you want to join us and get out of the rain?" She gestures with a nod towards the dragon infirmary. The exchange between rider and dragon is observed without obvious reaction. The last has Tess quirking a smile, "Certainly, especially seeing as how I think I've lost my Weyrleader-appointed tour guide for the moment. Perhaps he tired of my whining about mud," the last is humor, easily identified since she's not presently complaining about the mud on her shirt or the partially buttoned at-least-one-size-too-big oilskin coat she's wearing to guard against the worst of the damp. "N'rov? I didn't see where he went after he told me about the overgrown child there," Lilah answers with a bare smile, hardly there before it's gone. She turns on a heel to lead the way back across the bowl towards the infirmary, punctuated by a rumble from the gold as she gets to her own feet to follow. But Eliyaveith extends a wing over Tess, protective as she shields the young woman from the rain. "You'll learn all of the Weyr, eventually, if you are here long enough. No tour-guide is better than just exploring." "I admit, I have ulterior motives for wanting to finish the tour with him." Tess' smile holds secrets, though she doesn't volunteer any of them. "Thank you, Eliyaveith," the young woman manages after a surprised look up. "Dragons. Not sure I'll get used to them so quickly as I'll learn the Weyr, but at least I like them, so that's something.
Linked to a number of ground weyrs and the main Infirmary, this central cavern is roughly oval in shape and large enough to accommodate two or three smaller dragons if need be. A set of wide double doors lead out into the bowl and are rarely locked, in-case of emergency. Its white-washed walls hold several outcroppings for glows, focused around the main counter at the left of the room and the two beds set far enough apart for dragons to settle into the wallow-like dips between them. Equipment is stored in the (locked) cabinets behind the counter and the glass-covered shelving units carved into the wall, wide and deep enough to hold the necessary quantities to treat injuries of a larger scale.
"Do you?" is Lilah's pressed question to that, her brow curving upwards at Tess' statement as dark eyes slide expectantly towards the younger woman. She only makes a hummed note on the topic of dragons, something wry, but Eliyaveith punctuates the conversation with a rumble. It is the infirmary's aide greeting that brings Lilah's attention focused on Tess, a silent question. Eliyaveith is left to settle onto one of the dragon couches possessively, a bit too small for her, as her rider watches the healer. Tess' polite nod is for the passing man, but it serves easily enough to answer Lilah's unspoken inquiry. She meets Lilah's gaze easily, "Friendship. We seem to share a humor and so far in my life, that's been a rare thing. I don't know many people here, so why waste the opportunity to make friends? I grow on people through exposure." She doesn't compare herself to other things that do the same, but there's a smile that presses her lips together with the humor that goes unspoken. Lilah's lips only press together, though she offers, "Good luck in your quest, then. As long as your motives aren't nefarious, I suppose I will not care." But her gaze doesn't lift from the younger woman, flicking instead to where a knot should be before she turns away to fetch cloth for Eliyaveith's paw. "You must smell like a healer, then. Must be why Eliyaveith took to you so quickly." "Not even impure," Tess answers the weyrwoman with a grin. She must be familiar with the flick of gaze and what it means. "I find," she starts with practiced grace, "that some are deterred from befriending healers, lest the healer suddenly find there's something wrong with them, for all that that's not a healer's purpose." She glances over toward the gold, "It's nice to know that she does not hold such prejudice. Do you know why she likes healers especially?" "Not even a little? N'rov is a handsome man," counters Lilah to that, a brow curving upwards but no smile or softening of her expression to show whether the weyrwoman is joking. A quiet noise of understanding escapes from her lips at Tess' explanation, only the smallest tip of a nod accepting it as she crosses to press that clean cloth against ichor and mud covered hide. "Because I was one, once upon a time. Perhaps she's trying to find a better replacement for me." A pause, before she adds, "Or it is because she shares a lot of my memories as her own. Scents, sounds--. I'm not sure if that is exactly it, but no one can ever be certain when it comes to dragons." "There's no shortage of handsome men," Tess answers with no small measure of amusement, "Friends on the other hand, local friends... Well, I'd need them in surplus before I'd even consider it. Sex complicates friendships magnificently. Unlike any other force I've known or witnessed. Nearly as bad as love." The rest has her pausing to look over the goldrider thoughtfully. "Really? Did we ever meet each other at the Hall?" "I doubt it. I only attended as an apprentice and I must have been some turns ahead of you," Lilah answers to that, her gaze only flicking briefly over Tess but not placing her. She shakes her head dismissively, pulling away cloth to check the wound on her dragon's paw even as she asks, "Why are you so eager to make friends here?" Tess' gaze is following Lilah's movement and treatment of the wound as much as her face now. "I'm a social creature," is a simple and truthful explanation. "I like people. I always had friend at the Hall and at home before that. I find that loneliness doesn't suit me and I'm given to understand I'll be here some turns before they send me to a new posting, so long as everything goes well. Call it an integral part of my process for embracing this place as my new home." "But you will leave. Some new posting, with a new rank in a few turns." Lilah's brows curve slightly, her attention resting on Tess for a moment before she looks back to the cleaned wound, examining it. And in the end, she only turns away to get numbweed for it and a fresh cloth for bandaging. "I've never been one to make friends easily, or need many of them. I would have been an excellent healer; detached, focused on the work, able to separate what was best for treatment from what the patients wanted." "Someday." Tess agrees of leaving, "Though I expect much depends on how I do here, and how much involvement I end up having with Master Madilla's program. Perhaps they'll find me indispensable," the young woman suggest with a verbal flourish to the final word. "Either way, promotion is turns off now. I walked the tables just two turn ago and have been at the Hall for advanced training and practical experience since." The explanation is delivered fairly succinctly compared to her usual rambling chatter. "I'm sure you would have been an excellent healer," Tess says after a moment, "Though I don't think detachment is a necessary quality, and in some fields, can be a hindrance. What specialty were you looking toward?" "Trauma, mainly, which certainly needs that level of detachment. I was never interested in the fields that required--, you know. Children, mindhealing," answers Lilah in a dismissive murmur, even as she applies that numbweed evenly to Eliyaveith's paw. She then begins to wrap that bandage quickly around the exposed scrape, not looking towards Tess as she adds in question, "And yours? Are you in the same specialty as Master Madilla, then?" It's probably the way that Lilah says the first that makes Tess' smile curl just so, private amusement that is shared in the next moment, "Mindhealing. Perhaps you can understand me better now. And why I don't advertise my craft. I have a secondary specialty in general practice, which serves me well in the infirmary, but given some of Fort's recent history, and the events that lead to Master Madilla's program being begun to better serve our Weyr, I suspect the Hall felt that I could be of some assistance here, even if I am inexperienced outside the Hall." A soft, thoughtful sound escapes from Lilah's lips as she ties off the bandage and turns her attention fully to the young woman there. Briefly, though, she flicks a look up to Eliyaveith before returning a glance to Tess, before the first words out of her mouth are: "I wonder if mindhealing would work on a dragon. She certainly could use it; I doubt she's ever really dealt with the eggs she never had." But she dismisses that with a quick shake of her head, and Eliyaveith only punctuates the room with an annoyed rumble before the gold eases herself up off of the couch and moves to leave the dragon infirmary of her own accord. It isn't until after the queen has left that her rider says, "We can use you here, Healer Tess. A mindhealer could go a long way, I believe, towards the health of our Weyr." Tess considers before speaking, "I suspect, given their intelligence that it could be, though that the memory of dragons, if it's truly as short as I've read about, might prove something of a challenge. It might not be so different from someone who's had a traumatic brain injury that's altered their ability to retain memory, but still needs to cope with the original trauma." She purses her lips, not, it seems, especially liking the comparison she's drawn. "Have you dealt with it, Weyrwoman?" The question is posed gently, with a reasonable measure of concern and honest curiosity. Then, quickly, as if she might not expect an answer, she says seriously, "The best thing you can do to assist me in that, ma'am, is to call me Tess, and don't spread around my interest in the mental and emotional health of the Weyr. Some, unfortunately, don't believe in the merit of my particular specialization, or revile it for those who practice it tactlessly," as she must hope not to do. "On the list of things I have never dealt with, that may rank low," murmurs Lilah in an answer, her lips twisting into a wry smile before that trademark distraction passes over her expression and dark eyes slide towards where Eliyaveith has gone. It is a long moment before she speaks again, annoyance flicking briefly across her expression but disappearing before she addresses the healer with, "Perhaps if you could make time for me as well. Then you may keep my secrets and I will keep yours." Easier, she adds, "And maybe we will be able to experiment what a mindhealer can do for a dragon." Tess' smile blossoms and in a way, as yet unseen. It's the smile that belongs to a person who fine real and true satisfaction and fulfillment through service to others on a personal level. "I would be glad to find a time to meet, Lilah," she elects to omit the rank for the moment. "Would you be most comfortable meeting in your weyr, the infirmary or elsewhere?" Evidently, Tess is prepared to be flexible. "My weyr would be best. And I would appreciate if you do not tell anyone about this, yet," is said as if Lilah already suspects that Tess will not, but still does not feel comfortable without saying it. She meets smile with smile, though hers is reserved, not quite forced. "If the time comes that the Weyr needs to know in order to help others come see you, I will consider it then. But for now--." "As I imagine you're aware from basic courses," Tess' smile is gentle now, "Anything and everything you say to me is confidential, unless you are in realistic danger of hurting yourself or others. Everything else is not something anyone will ever hear from me." These words are all spoken with quiet conviction. The love of her craft and just how seriously she truly takes it is obvious in her voice and delivery. "Even my appointment book is private and written in code." This is almost certainly true, but it's also said with enough wryness to regain some humor into the conversation. "You may also be assured that in the event of tragedy, it will be made known, though I hope there will never be a need. In any case, I'm sure it won't stay out of the rumor mill forever, but we don't need to help it along." Her eyes crinkle a little as she smiles. "We'll find a time. For now, I ought to go get my spare shirt from the infirmary and see if I can magic this mud out of this one," a gesture to her own Eliyaveith's-snout-marked one. "If you'll excuse me?" She waits for dismissal before heading to do just as she's said. Lilah nods in agreement; she has certainly had the basic instruction in mindhealing that is required for anyone who must deal with patients, though likely not anymore. (And how much of that stuck, beyond the common knowledge, one must wonder.) "You may go," she allows, her gaze slipping down to the distinct mud there. "If it doesn't come out, please let me know. I will replace it." "Oh, you know my clothes have seen worse stains," Hall humor, Tess offers it as she goes, "and live to be worn another day." A hand rises in casual farewell as she heads toward the smaller cavern that houses the human infirmary. |
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