Difference between revisions of "Logs:Doing Our Bit"

Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr

Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings.

Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed.

It's late enough that the caverns have cleared out after dinner, though the varied schedules of weyr residents means there's still food to be had, and still people around. Madilla, her hands and voice still damp and pink from a recent wash, joins the end of the (not very long) line in front of the serving table, craning her head forward to see what's still on offer. By her expression, it can't be too bad, because she looks actually quite pleased, reaching for a plate when it's her turn, and then some bread, and reasonably fresh stew.

Raziel comes in to the living cavern and he goes over to get something to eat at the end of the serving line. He's covered in some dust and smells faintly of cobwebs. He takes a plate and starts to fill it when it's his turn. He makes sure he grabs a bowl of stew and some bread for dipping. "Mmm everything looks good as usual." He says to no one in particular.

Madilla's head lifts politely at Raziel's comment; she even pauses what she's ladling onto her plate to consider him, though it may be noted that her nose wrinkles immediately at his state of cleanliness. Her words are warm enough, though: "It does, doesn't it? I always worry, at this time of night, whether it'll be just-- leftovers. Congealed stew, and so on. But not tonight, from the looks of it."

Raziel doesn't notice the wrinkle of the nose, but he does nod a little bit, "Nothing worse then congealed stew late at night. I wonder what they have for dessert tonight." He waits his turn. "I'm Raziel."

"Right," agrees Madilla, with a low laugh. "Awful stuff. I mean, I /understand/ that it's hard to keep everything warm and fresh for everyone. It's just..." She breaks off to simply smile again, filling the last of her place with some somewhat limp greens. "I'm Madilla. I'm not going to have any dessert, but if you'd like to join me? I'll be sitting just over there." She indicates with her hand a table not so far away.

Raziel nods, "True, but if you are hungry any food is good food so long as it doesn't make you sick." He reaches to grab a dessert and smiles, "It's nice to meet you Madilla. Sure I'd be happy to join you." He follows her to her table.

"True enough," agrees Madilla, again, as she turns around to make her way to the table in question. Organising her food in front of her, she gives it her full attention for a few moments before tipping her head back up across towards Raziel. "I don't think I've seen you around before, have I? Are you new?"

Raziel grabs a mug of ale at the beverage table and he heads to sit down. He starts to eat and nods, "Yes I am. I come from a small cothold not too far from here."

Madilla eats in a fairly methodical fashion, selecting pieces of meat and potato, and then greens, followed on by pieces of bread sopped up in the gravy. "A cothold?" Her expression is knowing. "It must all seem very big and-- strange, then, I would guess? I know it did when I first got here. It stops feeling quite so intimidating eventually, though."

Raziel nods, "Yep a small cothold about a day or so walk away. At first it did, but I'm adjusting to it, plenty of work to keep me busy and not thinking about how intimidating it all is."

Madilla's gaze lifts from her food at regular intervals, a good indication that she's listening; she pauses as she responds, nodding enthusiastically. "I know what you mean. Being busy is-- I like it. I'd rather be busy than bored." She swirls a piece of potato into the gravy, adding, with her head tilted to the side, "What brought you up here, then?"

Raziel smiles, "Me too. I enjoy a good days work helps you sleep better at night. I came to see what the world is outside of the cothold and try to make my way in the world."

Madilla sets her fork down in order to reach for her bread, breaking off a strip with her hands and then folding it in half to pop into her mouth. She covers her mouth with her hand as she chews, evidently hurrying so that she can tell Raziel, a moment later, "It seems as though a lot of cotholders elect to do that. Some of my brothers did, too. I suppose there's not room for everyone to stay, and there's plenty of work around."

Raziel starts to eat his stew, "Very true and sometimes a cothold is too small. I eat my weight in food so even though my strength will be missed it will mean more food to go around to my siblings and mother and father."

"I suppose you would," agrees Madilla, after a moment's pause, expression appraising. "You are... very tall. I find that most young men eat a lot, of course, but..." Breaking off, she shakes her head, pushing a smile back to her expression as though she's pushing away an unwanted thought. "I'm sure the weyr can use big, strong people, too."

Raziel nods, "Yep I've always been a big boy. Indeed they can. I've been very busy helping where I can and trying not to get in the way of where I can't. So what do you do around the Weyr?"

Madilla, whilst scraping up another forkful of greens, nods several times quickly. "The best way to work, I think," she tells him, with the smile that seems to be her all but default setting. "I'm a healer," she adds, then, bobbing her head towards the knot on her shoulder, which marks her as a senior apprentice. "I've been posted here for a few turns, now."

Raziel finishes the stew before he starts on his vegetables. "Well that's something to be very proud of. Being a healer is very important. Who else is gonna heal up those that are injured. I just hope I don't meet you in the infirmary, but I'm sure if I do I'll be in good hands."

Madilla's cheeks turn faintly pink as a result of what Raziel says, though her nod is more certain - sharp, and firm. "I hope you don't, either; I'd rather everyone was healthy, even if it would put me out of a job. It's-- I like it. Being a healer, I mean. I like being able to help people."

Raziel nods, "Well I'm sure you help a lot more people then I do, or you help them more. Probably both, you keep everyone health or at least you help. Well still you have to make sure that everyone is health and winter is coming so colds will be right around the corner."

Madilla keeps opening her mouth, as Raziel speaks, as though she'd like to insert a comment, but in the end, she waits until he's finished his ramble to note, in a low voice, "We all do our bit, whatever it is we do. A weyr full of healers would be of as little use as a weyr full of big, strong men who can't heal themselves. You're right, though," and her head bobs, "Winter is always a busy season for us."

Raziel takes a drink of his ale, "True enough we all have our part and should do our part to help the weyr run. I just happen to be the muscle and strength."

"Precisely," agrees Madilla, her tone determinedly firm. "In some ways," she lowers her voice as she says this, as though it's not something she thinks she ought to be saying, "it may work better than the hold system. Being able to specialise, I mean, do only the things we're good at, and leave everything else to other people, who might be good at them, instead."

Raziel nods a little bit, "True you are about that let's others determine what they want to be and if they don't know then they can help work for the kitchen til they figure out what to do with their life. The weyr is big enough so that you can do what you really want to do."

Madilla looks pleased, that what she's said has found approving ears, though it doesn't stop her from carefully beginning to stack up her dishes. "I should go," she explains, just before she rises from the table. "I'm on the evening shift; I need to be back in a few minutes. It was nice to have met you, though, Raziel."

Raziel nods a little bit, "Have a good shift Madilla. It was nice to meet you too." He says as he continues to eat.

Madilla's smile, as she takes her leave, is still warm. "I hope it's a quiet one," she tells him, earnestly, as she turns to leave, dropping off her dishes in the appropriate place, then disappearing out into the caverns.