Difference between revisions of "Logs:Jerk"

Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr

Massive in scale, the Weyr's main storage passage connects to the kitchen on one end and the outbound tunnel on the other. Large enough to admit a wagon laden with goods, the tunnel easily permits the unloading and organization of supplies into the various storerooms.

Branching off from this corridor are multiple caverns, the nearer two being 'open' stores from which residents can readily help themselves, while the deeper stores are kept locked up tight with a posted sign and inventory hung on a hook outside of each. An alcove next to the public stores serves as a catch-all area for reshelving items whose destination is uncertain; two sets of stone shelving and several bins hold these items neatly until a stores assistant has a moment to deal with them.

Though the storage caverns vary in size, shape, and the smoothness of their walls, all belong to the same system: whitewashed walls, swept floors, and most importantly, neatly labeled and inventoried shelves providing ample space to stow all the supplies a busy Weyr needs. Though there's no direct internal lighting, a glowbasket may be brought in from the niche outside each cavern, the better to ward off pests and the inky dark of deep caves.

This cold, snowy winter afternoon finds Madilla down in the bowels of the weyr, sorting through baskets and boxes of baby clothes in the middle of the large cavern where most clothing-and-fabric related items can be found. The healer, now only a month or two off being full term in her pregnancy, and looking every day of it, sits on the floor in an open space towards the entrance of the cavern, fingers smoothing over each item of clothing in turn, folding them up carefully as she sets them into their designated piles. She's pulled off her boots, stockinged feet stretched out in front of her on the cool, but not cold, stone floor.

Silarra strolls into the room with a clap of boots on the stone floor. Silarra pauses just inside that part of the cavern to use her arm to cover a deep, wracking cough. A moment later she's turning to look towards the clothing on the shelves with a soft sigh, saying nothing to Madilla yet, at least.

As absorbed in what she's doing as Madilla is, she's not a healer for nothing: that cough turns her head in an instant, and if she doesn't say anything immediately, her gaze does track Silarra towards the shelves. She waits a few moments more, and then, as her fingers begin work on folding a pale pink onesie, "That cough still sounds awful, Silarra. How are you feeling?"

Silarra reaches out to pick up a shirt, holding it up for a moment to check the size before she refolds it. Once it's back on the shelf, she turns to shrug over to Madilla. "Like crap." She admits freely before she adds. "Just the cough now, though. Not all stuffed up anymore. Just hacking and out of breath. So much fun." Silarra's normal sarcastic tone is there as she turns back to the shelf. "Getting baby stuff ready?"

Madilla's expression shows genuine sympathy, though her quiet, "Be thankful you're not S'varis, at least, though," may seem less so. "Hopefully it'll clear up soon, though, and everything will be back to normal." She unfolds a tiny little cardigan, gives it an appraising glance, then refolds it, adding it to the largest of the piles: the discards, probably. "Mm, yes. Theoretically, it could be quite soon - if he or she were to come early. Time to get prepared."

Silarra nods her head. "True. I could have come off with worse. Never been so cold in my entire life." That's not even sarcastic. The baby clothes are eyed again. "Guess so. Otherwise you could have a naked baby while you found clothes." That gets a quick smile, which breaks down into another fit of coughing, with Silarra using one hand to steady herself against the shelf.

Shuddering, Madilla admits, "The very thought of it-- just /awful/. I'm glad you're well, though--" She gives the weyrling a long glance. "That cough is nasty. We gave you a syrup for it, yes? And you're taking it regularly?" Despite the concern, she can't help but smile as she adds, "That's right. And what kind of mother would I look like, then? Poor baby, doomed to freeze. Anyway, it's kind of fun: like shopping, only you don't have to pay marks for it."

"I can hardly imagine you as the type to let your baby freeze." Silarra states, avoiding the other questions for a moment. "And since you're wanting the baby, probably good anticipation, too, thinking about being able to put the clothes on the little one." The weyrling turns back to look over the shelves, pulling down another long sleeve shirt to check it's size. "Yeah. I took it." Past tense. "It made me feel all fuzzy."

Madilla's somewhat goofy smile is answer enough, probably, but she nods anyway: "It is. I like having-- something concrete to do, I suppose. Waiting is hard; being this big, too." A rueful glance indicates her belly: it does look pretty awkward. But; "Does that mean 'I took it once, and I didn't like the way it made me feel, so I stopped taking it'? Because I'll have to make angry-healer face at you, if that's the case, and lecture you about telling us if something isn't working for you. A cough like that-- it can do damage to your lungs, if you're not careful."

"Do you still have to make the angry healer face at me if I took it all?" And Silarra just apparently didn't go back for more. "So I really did take it more than once." Madilla gets a look over before Silarra adds. "Being that big must suck trying to move around and stuff." And then she's refolding that shirt, trying to find a smaller one in the stack.

It's not the angry healer face Madilla gives, but an eye-brow raised disappointed healer face; there's a distinct difference. "I'll have a new bottle of something sent up to your weyr later," she informs the greenrider, calmly. "Something that /won't/ make you feel 'fuzzy'." Setting down another item of clothing, her arms reach around to wrap snugly around her middle, and she nods. "It's a little awkward. My ankles are swollen, I can't find a comfortable position to sleep in, I-- but. Well. It'll be worth it. Are you after something in particular?"

Silarra turns away from the disappointed face to keep her eyes firmly on the shelf. It's not there if you don't look at it, right? "Alright. The other stuff didn't help /that/ much for making me feel out of it. So what was the point?" Silarra bends down to eye another shelf. "Yeah. Eventually you'll get to not sleep because of a crying infant. And I'm looking for a warm shirt that will fit. Wore through the elbows of one I had."

"Then we'll find some that /does/. I have a pretty good recipe... and if it /doesn't/ do any better, you'll have to come back and tell us as much, so we can try something else." Madilla's tone is firm: no arguments accepted. She's gone back to folding baby clothes, now-- except for needing to pause to examine something especially pretty, matched by a faint catching of breath. It doesn't distract her from adding, "Don't even remind me on the sleeplessness. But-- still, /worth it/. It's a hard time of turn to be hunting down warm clothes. Seems like most of the nice things have already been taken."

"Yeah. Or they're, like, tent size." Silarra holds up another shirt to her chest, letting Madilla see just how far it'd fall, at least to her knees. "Maybe I should to look in the kid's stuff." There's another pause for more hacking before she nods. "I'll tell you if it doesn't work."

Evidently, Madilla finds the look of that shirt against Silarra comical: she laughs outright, head shaking. "I see what you mean," she murmurs. "Have you considered putting patches on the elbows of your current one? You could make it into a fashion statement or something." She hesitates for a moment, then adds, "Though, yes, perhaps the children's stuff. The benefit of that is that they're always growing out of things." Silarra's assurance draws a nod: she'll accept that. For now.

Silarra flashes an actual smile to Madilla for the laughs. "Thought about patching it. If I can't find something, that's probably what I'll end up doing. At least for the rest of the winter. Or trying to talk Gabe into doing, maybe." Silarra flashes another smile at that before she moves over to look at another rack. "Just as long as it doesn't have embroidered puppies or something, there's really no difference with kid's stuff, right?"

There's a flicker of something on Madilla's expression at mention of Gabe. She's quiet for a few moments after Silarra finishes talking, then she says, firmly, "No difference at all. I'm sure there's some decent stuff in there." She takes a breath, swallows, then asks, "How is Gabe, these days? He's doing okay?"

Silarra shrugs. "Gabe is Gabe. Busy with all the weyrling stuff and everything." Silarra is pretty non-commital on it. She pulls a shirt out of the pile, holding it up. "Hey, this might fit." At least it wouldn't hang to her knees. "You're still not all made up with Gabe?"

It's maybe not as much of an answer as Madilla might hope for, but she doesn't press, only nodding quickly along with it. "Looks closer to right, at least. Try it on?" Beat. And then, more quietly, "Nooo. No. We haven't talked in-- a long time. I miss him." Her hands still, resting, twined, on top of the little dress sitting on top of her belly.

Silarra pulls it on over her other shirt. "Yeah, this'll work." It's just slightly tight on top of the other one, at least around the chest. "By itself, it should fit, right?" She pauses for a second before she shakes her head. "Gabe can be an idiot sometime. You want me to pound some sense into him? When I can breath again."

"Unless you grow any more," is Madilla's answer, after she's given Silarra an appraising glance. "But it seems as though it ought to last until spring, at least, I would have thought." She's silent, again, after she says that, but she shakes her head. "No-- no, don't. I think I understand where he's coming from, now, at least. I think. I think he's wrong, but-- he's allowed to have his opinion. But he'll graduate in a few months, and then he'll be back in the infirmary, and-- it's just sad." She manages a sad little smile, aimed at Silarra. "But maybe it'll work out."

"Sometimes Gabe just needs to pull his head out of his ass and think about someone else for a change." Silarra states looking down at the shirt. "Yeah. Should last the winter. Don't think I'll be growing /taller/ at least. Haven't done that in more than a turn now." Growing other directions? That might happen.

"He's..." Perhaps Madilla intended to say 'young', but, well, given present company if that was the original intention, she rethinks it. "He's had a lot going on, I know that. Maybe..." She doesn't finish that thought, either, just gives Silarra a rueful glance. "Anyway. It doesn't matter. Have you thought about what you intend to do yourself when you've graduated?"

Silarra pulls the shirt up over her head, triggering another nice coughing fit. She pauses for a moment to suck in a few deep breaths once it's past before she speaks. "But you're his friend. That means he's acting like a jerk." And that Silarra isn't cutting her cousin any slack in this. "I don't know. I've thought about it, but well, I don't know."

Madilla doesn't answer that one; perhaps she simply doesn't have anything to say. "I'm sure something will jump out at you, eventually. I suppose it depends, too, on what wing you end up assigned to." Which seems to give her something to think about it, something she doesn't explain. Then, reluctantly, "I should get moving. I'm on shift tonight, and I still need to put all of this away." The piles, which she's already started to tidy back into boxes, with one stack to keep. "Look after yourself, Silarra. I'll get that cough syrup to you later."

"Need help putting that away?" Silarra offers. After all, it's good to be nice to the pregnant woman, right? "I guess I'll figure it out once I have a wing. I'm good at physical things. Not so much at things where I have to talk to people and be nice to them. I hope you have a good shift though."

Madilla's smile is grateful. "I'd appreciate that," she admits, as she pulls herself laboriously towards her feet. It takes a little while. "I'm sure you'll find something, though, Silarra." Once everything has been put away, she gathers up her supply of baby clothes, and waddles off towards the lower caverns again.