Logs:Healerly Small Talk
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| RL Date: 24 July, 2014 |
| Who: Madilla, Miska, Raija |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Madilla and Raija meet Miska, the newest healer. |
| Where: Living Caverns, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 5, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Dilan/Mentions, Lilabet/Mentions |
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| 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. The sun may be setting outside, bringing with it cooler temperatures, but the living caverns of High Reaches are full of life and warmth. It's nearing the end of dinner time, the crowded tables starting to break up as weyrfolk tend to other matters before the day comes to a close. Miska has an end of a long trestle table to himself, allowing him to spread some of his reading materials out in front of him. He's idly stirring a bowl of soup, his spoon acting as more of an agitator than a utensil, and intently reading the scattered notes. His long legs are crossed and out to the side, unfortunately creating a tripping hazard - not that the healer would even notice, as engrossed in his reading as he is. Madilla and her youngest daughter - a dark-haired and amber-eyed girl of about three - are using the living caverns as a thoroughfare rather than a place to stop and eat, though they've been waylaid amidst the tables. The Weyrhealer pauses to chat, low-voiced, with a young woman; Raija, impatient, scampers onwards, bypassing a number of people on her quest for freedom... until Miska's long legs inadvertently interrupt her, sending her sprawling out onto the smooth stone floor. Is that a breeze? A twitch in his leg? Miska reaches down to massage his calf, but instead of muscle pain, he finds a dark-haired child sprawled nearby. "What are you doing down there?" He leans down farther, his head ducking under the table so he can get a better look. "Some kind of game?" Kids these days sure are strange. Raija doesn't cry when she hits the ground, though those big, big eyes turn up towards Miska, watching him with almost unnatural ferocity... and somewhat eerie silence. She lifts her hand to her mouth to suck on it, and then blinks. Once; a second time. And then there's-- "Raija?" Madilla's voice, approaching. "Raija, what are you-- oh." That eerie silence is unnerving. Miska opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, frowning as he does so. Any further interaction is stopped by the approach of Madilla. "I'm not too sure what happened. I looked down and there she was. She doesn't look hurt, except the hand, but-does she do that often? That sucking thing?" Shrewd eyes lift to the other healer, unspoken questions lingering in their depths. "All the time," admits Madilla. "Some children suck their thumbs... Raija sucks her whole hand, unless she's got her blanket to hand." She crouches, all the better to scoop the girl up into her arms, balancing her at her hip as her gaze slides back to Miska, thoughtful in her own way. "She's fine, though; that's good. Aren't you, Raija?" Still, the toddler says nothing. Maybe it's just that her fingers taste too good. Those unspoken questions? For now, they'll just have to go unanswered. "Interesting," it's muttered mostly under his breath, but not quiet enough. His hands find purchase on the table and he hefts himself up, standing and offering out a hand to the toddler-bearing healer. "Weyrhealer Madilla, right? I haven't had the time to meet you personally yet, but, I'm Miska, the new arrival. I've seen you in passing." He's assuming he knows his name, knows his purpose for being here - his green eyes and gentle smile are kind, both directed towards the mother and her child. Is it interesting? Madilla's expression is impassive, more thoughtful than friendly - at least until Miska introduces himself, at which point a genuinely warm smile blossoms. She dislodges one arm in order to take the other healer's hand, shaking it firmly. "Yes, I'm Madilla," she agrees. "And my daughter, Raija." Though possibly not her biological daughter. "I'd been hoping to catch you; today was just too busy, and then I was late to collect Raija. Welcome to High Reaches, Miska. You've been looked after, I hope? Shown around?" Miska's smile holds, his handshake likewise firm before he withdraws his hand and settles easily back into his seat. "Nice to meet you two." He leans back and gives an affirming nod, "Shown around, settled in my room, and manipulated into stocking shelves already - just like home." Home presumably being the Healer Hall. His smile is still easy and open, the barest hint of amusement in his words. "They warned me about the conditions of the infirmary and I still didn't believe them. Not that," as he's quick to recover if he's insulted Madilla at all, "there's anything wrong, I'm just used to having a.. larger space, for deliveries. Something more private." Not that he's likely to find that at a Weyr in an infirmary; oh, the non-Weyrbred. For a moment, before Miska explains, Madilla's brows begin to knit, looking more 'confused' than 'offended,' though in any case, the expression clears quickly enough; she laughs. "Mm," she agrees. "Our facilities are certainly smaller than what you'll be used to - and this, after we received the new pharmacy workroom, when the craft complex was built. We manage, though. I gave birth to two children in that infirmary, and I've delivered plenty of others; you get used to it." Raija continues to watch Miska with those big eyes. "I suppose I'll have to. Out with the old, in with the new, whatever it is the harpers say." Miska steeples his fingers together, shifting in his seat. "Privacy is a luxury of the entitled - which means, I won't find much of that here. It's going to be different." His gaze shifts upwards, green eyes staring back at Raija's brown ones. "Is she your youngest?" Now they're making small talk. His smile returns, a shade less amused than before. "You'll get used to it," Madilla promises. "Granted, I've not worked anywhere else since I was quite a new apprentice, but... I'm not sure what I'd do with anything larger, now." As Miska's gaze meets Raija's, Madilla turns her own towards the girl, adjusting her minutely upon that hip. "She is. My eldest is an apprentice harper, now, and my middle child is living with his father at High Reaches Hold for the turn. Now that she's used to it, I think she's rather enjoying the extra attention she gets now." Raija withdraws her hand from her mouth, but still says nothing; she's still staring at Miska, unsmiling and utterly serious. "Less bumping into people, more sitting room," Miska supplies - about large spaces. He flows smoothly into the discussion of the children, letting his eyes slide from mother to daughter. "That must be different, for both of you. From three to one. Lucky girl, having you all to herself." His stare is slightly contemplative, assessing Raija as if he's something kind of.. mindhealer or something. Voicing his observations is another thing entirely. "Where'd you get the name from? It's unique." The corners of Madilla's mouth twist up in answer to Miska's comment on the larger spaces, though she doesn't comment on it further. "It's been... it's had ups and downs, certainly." One hand smooths Raija's dark hair, a gesture that manages to be both idle and loving, all at once. "I think it's been good for her, though. She's..." The healer's pause is brief, but deliberate. "It's beautiful, isn't it? I believe her birth-mother must have named her; I'm not sure. We adopted her." "Wow." Miska looks impressed. "Adopting someone else's child, isn't that what most people would call selfless? Especially when you have a couple of your own." He smooths a hand through his hair, again looking contemplative. "I like delivering other people's babies, but not sure being a parent is for me. Kudos," another quick remedy, an apology after too thoughtless words, "to you though. Being a parent is hard, from what I hear. Seems you're doing a good job at it though." "I don't know about selfless," Madilla says, quickly, smiling ruefully. "A friend asked me to help, and... well." Clearly, she couldn't resist. Equally clearly, she's not at all bothered by what Miska says. "I always wanted a big family. I'm glad to have the opportunity. You'll have to tell me how you ended up in the field of midwifery, some time; I'm fascinated to know. Though-- not tonight." Not when Raija is beginning to droop against her, those eyes finally dragging themselves away from Miska so that they can blink and blink, and close. "Everyone wants to know 'that' question." Miska doesn't look bothered by, more amused than anything. "But please, if it's that time," that time being bedtime, "I'll have to catch you when we're both free to talk. I should get back to the infirmary. I'm making a pregnant lady wait." He winks and starts shuffling his papers together, combing them into a haphazard stack that he tucks under his arm. "It was nice to meet you Madilla, and Raija." Then he's loping off in the general direction of the infirmary, dodging people and moving like a man on a mission. |
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