Logs:Stuck
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| RL Date: 19 October, 2014 |
| Who: Drex, Itsy |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: After the storm. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions |
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| Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr Two sets of double doors, one from the the inner caverns and a recently built set from the dragon infirmary, lead into the unnaturally hushed human infirmary. Despite fastidious cleaning, the scent of redwort and numbweed has long since soaked into every smooth-carved surface, along with other, subtler medicinal smells. Pristinely made cots are lined up against the walls; most of them are left open to view, but some in the back are surrounded by curtains for delicate procedures or critical patients. About halfway between the two entrances is the counter for the healers on duty; it guards the entrance to the storage rooms just beyond, their shelves and cabinets lined with meticulously labeled bottles, boxes, jars, and even vats of supplies. The Weyrhealer's office is also here, along with another side room for mixing up medicines and the like. For sailors used to the comforting roll of the seas, sleeping on dry land is never a comfortable thing. Doubly so when you've been sick and under the protectively watchful eye of the healers for several days. Drex spent the first day unconscious, was weak but alert on the second, but by the third he insisted on a cot next to Itsy's. It's relatively quiet, most of the occupants asleep, when he slips off his own cot and onto the end of Itsy's, sitting here quietly for moments, before finally, in an undertone: "I feel so naked without my sword. They better take good care of it." Itsy's managed not to be hit quite as hard as some of the others, but in a way, that only makes things worse: she's bored. Now, sitting atop her bed rather than under the covers, her knees brought up towards her chin, she regards Drex with an even enough stare. "You think you feel naked," she says, voice gritty, half amused and half serious. "I'm going to need a new hat." She looks... well, weird, without it, especially when dressed in an infirmary nightgown (a dress!), her hair matted about her shoulders. "Knew you weren't keen on headed back to the Hold, but this is a bit much, eh?" He stares at her for a moment or two, then with a duhh expression, says laconically, "You don't need a new hat. We'll find your old one." How isn't exactly established, but Drex at least sounds pretty confident of that. His lips quirk up one one side, as he says, "Guess this means you have to actually wash your hair once or twice a Turn, eh?" A brief snort follows. "He checked up on you yet?" At first, Itsy's expression is dubious-- but then she laughs. "Right," she agrees. "Wouldn't want a new one. No character." It's a little difficult for a woman in the pirate's present state to be imperious, but she does her best, sniffing down her nose at that comment on her hair. Pfft. Besides, as her fingers work at a loose thread in the sheet, she's got an answer to give: "Yesterday. Reckons we ought to stay put for the mo'. Can't be too bad, eh? Here, for the winter." Beat. "Or so." "Lots of Tillek beaches to comb. I figure we get a boat with a shallow draft for now, so we can stick in close to the beach, look for wreckage." Apparently Drex does have a plan, even if it's a long shot. "And the locals might've picked up stuff here and there. I can punch 'em, you steal back your hat, and we high tail it out of there. Just like old times." The younger boy's brown eyes narrow briefly. "Stay?" He says it in the same tone one might say vtol. A beat or two, then, almost forcefully for him, "What do you think?" Itsy, indulgent; "All right. Can't let some... landlubber wear my hat, right?" Long-shot though it is, she seems both amused and pleased by the prospect; more so than by the rest of the conversation, which she answers slowly, in her own time. "I think we can stay," she says. "Or we can go back to High Reaches, tails between our legs, and wait it out there, with dresses and formal dinners until forever." Tillek is, plainly, not an option for the pirate girl. "Certainly not. They might get ideas and want to sail the seas and become a Captain. Can't have some landlubber getting ahead of themselves." Drex sounds certain on that, like it's their duty to prevent this horrific occurrence. While she considers the latter, he tugs a hand through his hair, though his dark gaze doesn't leave her, flexing his foot to hang off the side of the cot. Her mention of dinners and dresses and High Reaches certainly has an impact on her fellow pirate, grimacing visibly at the thought. "Fine then. But soon as I'm out of the infirmary I'm getting my knife back. And they better look after my sword." 'Captain' gives Itsy a moment's pause, her gaze turning consideringly onto Drex, though she holds off comment until after he's finished. "Captain. What were you doing, you idiot, trying to save ours? You could've died." And Drex, too, frowns. "He was our cover. Where else are we going to find another fat old lout who'll let us run things? We got lucky." Or it was arranged that way, but he won't concede when it's anything to do with the Exile Lord. "Wasn't gonna die," he adds, with a certainty. "You wouldn't let me." Itsy's, "We're not as young as we used to be," probably contains more bravado than is strictly necessary; it's true, but probably not true enough to really matter. "And maybe I would've battled all the sea-monsters, and chased down the winds to get you back, but I shouldn't have to." So there. Her expression is meaningful. "So there." Drex gives her a bemused look. "Have you seen how old some of these people are?" He snorts, shakes his head, and glances around. "'cause you should. Although you should probably tame and ride the sea monsters instead. Scare all those islander folk out of their minds," he says, with a curve of one side of his mouth in amusement. "Ok, fine, it was stupid. But I didn't think we'd lose the entire ship; we've borne worse storms than that." Clearly, the idea of taming and riding the sea creatures is an excellent one; however improbable, it has Itsy straightening, shoulders drawn back out of their usual hunch. Her, "Hah," is a bark of amusement, timed just after Drex's comment. It's his last words, though, that have her frowning again. "Yeah," she agrees. "We shouldn't've. Makes us look bad." And worse, really, given all the dead people. "Dunno what happened." "We lost our home," not just a ship, as far as Drex is concerned. "And all the stuff that we had in the cargo bay. Soon as we're out of here, gotta figure out who of our crew is left, make sure they don't go getting drunk and telling tales," he says, significantly. "Mm," agrees Itsy, pressing her hands flat upon her knees. "That's the plan. Soon as dragon lady lets us out." Her significant glance is towards the healer on duty; her mouth sets itself into a scowl. "'least it's still the two of us, right? You and me. Regardless of who else there is." Or isn't. "This'll only be temporary. We'll be back on the water in no time, you'll see." "You and me," Drex agrees, without hesitation. "We need to get our queen back," he adds, slinking back briefly as the healer starts to walk over to do the rounds. It looks like he's not going to dare the attention and retreats to his cot. The more important queen, obviously. Itsy's chin lifts, confirmation enough; the rest can wait until the healers are gone again. At least they're agreed... for now. |
Comments
Edyis (04:40, 29 October 2014 (EDT)) said...
Ok, this was a really cool read. Can't wait to see more.
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