Difference between revisions of "Logs:Doing It"

Finally, someone has found work for Silva to do that she doesn't complain her arse off about. She's been assigned to remark the jars of medicines, and she's doing so in more-or-less quiet. A piece of paper gets her careful transcribing before she transfers it over to the bottle. Back up onto the shelf it goes, and another one comes down.

"This" particular woman is usually found on the 'opposite' side of healing-type things - when she's found here at *all* - Alida moving at a brisk pace from the Dragonhealer's quarter into the human part of the large complex. Sailing above her head is an autumnally-golden firelizard that chitters softly, then zips over to meet up with another flit that's currently settled farther within, next to its recovering rider. Along the way, Pyrite churrs pleasantly at Silva...while her 'owner' - having found nobody at the front desk, so-to-speak - moves to the nearest body to inquire, "We need some extra needles. Tiniest ya got." The person so 'accosted' happens to be Silva, and Alida's hard-accented, mile-a minute alto sounds brisk, intent.

It takes Silva until the very end of Alida's words to figure out the woman is talking to her. She was in the middle of writing CAUTION - Numbweed on a slip and wasn't actually paying attention to the rest of the world. A blink finally as her words seep in and Silva lifts her head. "Excuse me?" It's more or less polite, just to cover the fact that Silva has no idea what is going on. "I think you'll need to talk to a healer about tiny things?"

Blink. Clear, intense green eyes are studying Silva from head to toe as the aide speaks, Alida at first appearing a little impatient, then cognizant as the other 'explains' her ignorance. "Okay," is imparted just as briskly, the pale-blonde, knotless woman quickly enough moving on with that smart step. Give her a couple of minutes and a quick meet-up with a senior-Apprentice Healer farther inside the complex, and soon enough the woman's re-emerging, headed back out the way she entered - and at the same pace - until she slows, pauses...and gets 'that look' in her eyes, on her face, as if listening to something only she can hear. "Oh..." Sigh, puff. "Well, at least they found it." Mutter. A small shrug soon sees Alida in motion again, but this time more leisurely, though surely not dawdling...though when she passes by Silva again, there's a clipped, "Yer new." Beat. "Apprentice?"

« They found the packet. No big hurry, now... » Ilicaeth notes briskly to his human half. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

Sometimes Silva forgets how to be polite, so she totally stared after Alida as she walked away and then rolled her eyes slightly. "Crazzyyy." She keeps it more or less under her breath as she turns back to her work, carefully affixing the label to the jar. This time she doesn't lose the thread of her surroundings, so when the woman comes out it is to Silva watching her from the corner of her eye. When the woman approaches Silva abruptly looks back to her work, nope, not giving strange gazes. "Er?" Putting down her quill Silva turns, and shakes her head. "Just helping out? It's better than having to clean?"

If Silva only knew... No matter; there's brisk interaction, and the helper's identifying herself, which has Alida rocking back and forth a couple of times from balls of feet to booted heels. What is she; restless? Caffeinated? "They don' typicallt just assign the 'usual' people ta' the Infirmary." Shrug. Why is she so interested?

Silva eyes that movement and she's just going to back up a half step, and put the table she's using as a writing surface between her. It manages to look more or less like a natural movement - and not get-away-from-crazy-woman. Silva reaches for a bottle on the far side, and pulls it closer. "My father," emphasis, "is a harper craftmaster, so I have a neat hand. They needed it done, I volunteered..." Silva's free hand jazz hands slightly, in a ta-dah! "Don't have to be a healer to be able to fix the labels."

Alida is rather the keen eye as far as sussing out particulars are concerned, and so - even with the sort-of-natural 'retreat' from Silva - there's a hint of a gleam behind green eyes and a quirk of a faintly unpleasant, lopsided smirk-smile. Luckily for everyone, the expression evaporates as quickly as it formed, the woman nodding a few times to the other female's explanation...then noting quietly, "You sound defensive."

Oh for... « Yer *doin' it again*... » Eyeroll. Being a poking putz to some unwary stranger. Save it for the ones that matter, for the deserving, not some random not-Heal-... Hmm. Hold on a moment. Hmmmmm. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

"I'm totally working." Silva says this way too quickly, like the woman might run out and accuse her of not doing so. She does NOT want to lose this gig right here. Leaning forward Silva writes in her very neatest (okay, with a few flurishes - it makes it pretty) handwriting the next label and affixes it. "If my aunt sent you..." She glances up, a mullish expression on her face. "This needs done. I'm working. No one has complained yet."

If Alida were a person given to giggling, she might be doing such at the way Silva responds...and not 'nice' giggling, either. Her dark humor is found within those clear green eyes, which spark and dance while the rest of her features remain almost...stony. Almost...reproving. Judging. After letting Silva stew for a bit while Alida continues to stare at her, the blonde murmurs, "*If* she sent me, why would I even letcha' know, in the first place?" As for working, "Not *yet*..." Stare. And then there's that slightly distracted look in her eyes again, quickly followed by more peering.

« What? » Why the distraction from prodding at her, given his current snarky mood? Dip. (Alida to Ilicaeth)

« Gimme a sec... » He's distracted, busy, intent. Rumble. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

« Whatever... » Eyeroll. (Alida to Ilicaeth)

"Because that seems to be the general trend? 'Oh, did you see Silva this morning? She wasn't doing the stupid chore you gave her!'" Resentment burns in Silva's tone as her voice soars into falsetto immitation of adult voice. "Well, she can go shove it right now. I'm working." Irritation causes Silva to press down too hard on the tip of the quill, and it snaps, spreading bits of ink everywhere. Drawing in a deep breath she sets the broken quill down gently and reaches for a cloth. "I'd give //anything// to just... not have to follow her stupid orders any more."

While Silva rants, Alida simply stands there...and observes the young woman. Observes her coolly, with the blandest of expressions...and subtly glinting eyes. Oh, the humor. When the quill snaps, the feather will fall. "Be careful wha'cha' wish for..." is quietly noted in the oddest of voices, Alida sounding both dead-serious and yet darkly humored at once. "*Any*thing?" While steady, impassive green eyes observe, one of her pale-skinned hands slips into a pocket at leather trousers.

Silva needs to learn to be more careful with her words, but being spoiled rotten doesn't usually lead to being careful. A rough, "Anything would be better than being under her thumb. I can't figure out why my father hasn't brought me home yet." A slight pout pokes up on Silva's lips, as slight homesickness accosts the girl. "She thinks I can't get anything right, and she just keeps giving me the //wrong// kind of work."

« Bring 'er out. » It's a request, but one that borders on an order. He's already winging down from their ledge, braving the snow and wind, advancing on the opening to the complex. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

He's gotta be joking, right? « Her?!? » Whiny, snotty-spoiled pissant? (Alida to Ilicaeth)

Alida appears about as empathetic as a boulder when Silva pouts, 'whines,' the blonde starting to gain an expression of irritation at the corners of her mouth, around eyes. Quite suddenly, perhaps to silence the 'irritant' before Silva starts actually grating on her nerves, the woman lips off a curt, nearly-militaristic, "Get up. Follow me." Her words are approaching the bark of a drill sergeant in all but volume, and she's got the force of personality that seems to expect her commands to be followed. A jerk of chin 'urges' Silva onward, to follow the now stony-faced blonde towards the dragonhealing part of the complex.

"Faranth //take// it, I was doing it! I didn't mean to break the quill! It happens ALL THE TIME." When it becomes clear she isn't really going to get a choice in this matter, Silva grinds her teeth and gets up, tossing that rag down with unnecessary force onto the table as she leaves. A current of muttering under her breath follows as Silva mopes after the woman, head downcast.

Snort. Yes, even a spoiled pissant. « Either she makes the grade, 'r not. » Shrug. The Weyr needs lots of 'them,' right now, anyway, given the dual clutches...and lots of eggs. Eggs...rumble/pleasure. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

« Faranth... » Daft, baby-besotted blue. Whatever. Just to *please him.* (Alida to Ilicaeth)

As Silva continues to express her 'disenchantment,' Alida just walks onward through the healing quarters - though her right hand occasionally parodies a squawking avian in front of her, in time to Silva's complaints - the two people moving into the dragonhealing complex, soon enough. For a few moments, the blonde's attention is taken up by delivering a rolled packet of something that was in her pocket to the nearest, fellow dragonhealer apprentice, the man nodding and smiling to 'lida before he steps off towards the back of 'their' side of the complex. Within, on a couple of the many couches, lie a green and a brown dragon, the former curled in sleep as her strained wing heals, while the latter is receiving a quick bath from his rider.

Silva keeps it up for a few moments after entering the area, until her eyes catch sight of where they have gone. IT's a place the girl hasn't visited before, and she eyes the dragons laying there slightly warily. Rather than hang back now Silva is just going to get REALLY close on the heels of the rider, words ready to blame her if someone should try to question her being here. NOT heR FaulT.

What; is Alida just going to lead Silva around in circles? Once her delivery is done, the woman seems to drag her heels after a fashion, taking them on a circuit of the part of the complex that lies the closest to those recovering dragons. Once, someone approaches the pair - as if to stop and question them - but a significant look and a soft headshake from Alida has the older man soon enough shrugging and moving onward to his own business. As 'lida and Silva pass the brown and his rider, the dragon gives a sudden, huge yawn, which shows off all his choppers really well.

Hey! « *I'm* the one that chooses. » Snert. So quit trying to stall coming out into the cold, quit trying to irk him on purpose, and get your dragging ass *out* here. Where *he's* currently standing in the snow, accumulating it on his back, head. Ilicaeth snowman. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

Snicker. Yeah-yeah. (Alida to Ilicaeth)

Alida really likes people being close to her right? Because that's what she gets when that brown abruptly opens his mouth, a Silva ALL on her ass, close enough to be brushing against her arm. when the brown makes no move Silva eyes it warily, having little experience with the creatures. Excuse an impertinent question, "What's wrong with them?"

On her ass is okay...as long as Alida knows exactly where Silva is... which is now at Alida's side, when she shifts her own form. Smirkie. A point to the snoozing green is folowed by a clipped, quiet "*She* pulled some wing muscles showin' off." A look to the brown. "He got in a rumble...mating Flight collision. Banged up pretty good." A quick nod to the brown and his rider soon see the woman leading Silva and herself out towards the entrance to the Bowl.

Yup, Silva's not going to be doing anything but staying RIGHT ON HER. "Oh. I didn't know those things were dangerous?" A distinct uplift to the end of the word underscores Silva's ignorance of all things dragon. "Must suck to get hurt trying to get laid." When the exit Silva's wariness about why she's getting dragged away from her work comes back, and she steps away from the rider a half pace. "Seriously, I wasn't doing anything wrong..."

One pale brow raises at Silva's take on getting laid in dragon flight, Alida merely smirking dryly and shaking her head at the other's protestation of her 'innocence...' Until they both nearly run into a blue wall of dragonflesh right outside the large entrance/exit...a large wall of granite-blue flesh that has deeply-ridged, azure eyes that stare in fast-whirling contemplation right at Silva, just above her. And outside? It's snowing and blowing...and the blue dragon has a few inches accumulated upon the parts of him that are still. Crooooon-rumble-CHUFF.

« Well? » Bland, yet smirky-snarky. (Alida to Ilicaeth)

« Toss 'er in with the rest, let the eggs sort 'em out. » Hehehehe. She'll pass muster...for *now*. (Ilicaeth to Alida)

"Shhhh..." Silva wraps her arms about her - not at allll dressed for the snowy outside. But there are bigger things to worry about than the chill - for example, the DRAGON now looming above her. "Uh, Is he..." And Alida is going to get Silva back as her shoulder-almost-touching partner, the woman being a dual shelter against stone and dragon. "Can we please go inside?"

"Indeed..." Alida notes dryly to Silva of the other's assessment of the cold out here, the blonde not in a jacket, either. And, instead of sheltering the girl, the woman simply steps aside, and lets the blue dragon eyeball the 'new meat.' Mmm... rumble. For a moment, Ilicaeth's jaws gape open into his approximation of a human grin - but probably it looks more like a presage to being eaten, to the uninitiated - and then he's slowly withdrawing his large body, and stepping off back into the Bowl-proper. Aside to Silva, Alida mutters between cold-clenched teeth, "He wants ya ta Stand fer the eggs. If ya wanna go back inside fast, *agree* fast." Shiver.

Silva affects more shivers then are //probably// necessary, an exaggeration of the cold - though seriously, it is. She's too busy being not-quite-on-tap with the whole dragon-staring-her-down thing to think too carefully about her question. "Right. Sure. Whatever you say. Let's //go//. I can stand." If only she knew what she was saying yes to.

The look Alida awards Silva for her offhanded way of accepting should tell all: Pass not these portals, yee foolish mortals! But, done's done, and the blonde's not a 'kind' soul, so she's soon directing them back inside, in time with words of reporting to the Headwoman for that important knot, and... "Yer on chore roster now, too. Barracks, as well." Beat. "Enjoy." Twinkle.