Logs:Visitors
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| RL Date: 14 July, 2013 |
| Who: N'dalis, Reesa |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Reesa visits N'dalis in the Infirmary. |
| Where: Infirmary, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 3, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, B'rant/Mentions, E'dre/Mentions, Ebeny/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, R'zi/Mentions, K'varl/Mentions |
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| The thing about having a ceiling fall down on your legs is that, well, legs don't really like that much. N'dalis got part way out of the collapsed barracks with the help of a healer and his dragon, and then his legs collapsed on him, and now he's here in the infirmary, a few days later, largely immobilized. /This/ time, he's got Suraieth with him, though the green is presently sleeping, holding her injured wing tentatively even in dreams. Dal's watching her, partially propped up in bed, his brows knitted like he's trying to reassure himself that she's still breathing. Reesa's been an unusually somber presence over the past few days - even her normally bubbly self affected strongly by the loss of a weyrling. Although she's wearing one of her usual bright summer dresses, on her left arm she's wearing a brown armband. She's doing the rounds of the weyrlings laid up here - having seen to the dragons first, by perhaps no surprise. Silent, the greenrider settles onto the stool by N'dalis' bed, following his look towards Suraieth. "Seeing them like this is- the hardest. She's young, though-" the blonde trails off, abruptly- as if struggling to find more reassuring words- /she's/ no dragonhealer, and doesn't pretend to be. So instead she asks the rotely awkward question: "How are you?" "They say it'll heal," agrees Dal, turning his attention from his green towards the greenrider who Searched him, all those months ago. "That she'll get to fly, eventually. I guess it works out, since it's not like I'll be doing much walking for a while. Not without a crutch, anyway." His own expression is serious and somber, though he seems quite calm, now, his gaze studying Reesa thoughtfully. "I'll heal, too. I'm not having nightmares like some of the others, at least. Is that armband for -" He stops. There's a long hesitation, unusual for Reesa. She touches the armband, then slowly, "When S'fin died, a lot of people wore this. Even if they didn't really know him that well, or didn't trust him. I- know how hard it is to have a clutchmate die." She stops, takes a breath, focusing on Suraieth to gather her composure before she finally looks back at him. "You're both still with each other, you'll learn together." Like, for her, that's the most important thing in the world. "Do you need anything? Water?" N'dalis' lips part, and his head inclines: ah. He understands, then. He exhales, too. "I didn't trust R'zi," he admits. "He lied about where he was from, he snuck back in to... but the point is, he didn't deserve to die. And there's no chance they escaped, is there? Tajireth couldn't have known anywhere safe to /take/ them." This has him chewing on his lip, scraping away the dry skin. "Company," he admits. "I could use company. I've been trying to keep at my harper lessons, but I can't do that all day, and everyone's - busy. Unsurprisingly." There's a moment of hesitation on Reesa's part, but it's so brief as to be missed. "The dragons keened," as if that should be answer in and of itself. It's his latter request that finally earns a flicker of a smile from the blonde. "I can do that- for a while, anyway. I'll have to check up on your fellows in a bit, too. They're settling in well to the ground weyr - most of them, anyway. I suspect Isyath may not welcome the company on her ledge, but given she's only there at night I'm sure Ali'll put her in her place." A somewhat wry smile; like Ali could put /anyone/ in their place. "On the bright side, you'll get out of morning laps and sack tossing. Not exactly compelling stuff, there." Despite the question, Dal doesn't seem to have expected anything else as an answer; he's certainly not /looking/ for anything else. "Poor R'zi," he says. "But at least they went together." His gaze has slid away from Reesa, and back towards the sleeping Suraieth, as if he's imagining what /could/ have happened. Turning back, "I appreciate it. For a little while. Su said Isyath was kind to her, during everything. I appreciate that, too. I - " He almost smiles. "Kind of miss the physical exertion, to be honest. I'm not /used/ to doing nothing at all." "If it ever happened to me- I'd want it to be together. With her," Reesa agrees, gaze distant a moment, something fond and warm spilling across her features. As her gaze comes back, and he talks, there's a brief flicker of something /heated/, but now is not the time, /nor/ place, and mercifully, she keeps her mouth shut. She /does/ reach out for fingertips to brush his forearm, however briefly, a gesture that could be taken as reassurance. There's something in her voice when she finally speaks, but it's faint as she says evenly, "You won't miss it when you start doing it again. I was never good at running- nor /catching/. So- you need something to keep your mind occupied instead?" "I can't imagine being /without/ her," agrees N'dalis, his voice soft and his eyes half-closing, as though he's willing such a thing to never, ever happen. Her fingers on his forearm /do/ get taken as reassurance, and there's a smile for it - tentative, but grateful. "So... we're lucky. We'll heal. We just have to /wait/." His nod is far less tentative, and rather /more/ eager. "I'm not used to being idle. It was hard enough when I was in here before the hatching, but now... Any suggestions?" The other greenrider watches- and there's empathy in those warm blue eyes of hers for his talk of his dragon. Then: "Most of the games I know involve drinking and removing clothing." Reesa is unapologetic about this, and there's maybe even a flicker of a smile. "Neither of which you're likely to do in here. I mean, I suppose, if you're interested- you could always read up on history? Clutches? We could play 'match the temperament to the rider' with your clutchmates, or just the riders in general? Though that'd be easy if you picked 'grouchy'." N'dalis, in response, is just a /little/ stiffer as a result of it, but also valiant in his own attempt to smile. "I can't see that going down too well," he agrees. "I'm not sure the healers would approve of strip poker. I'm pretty sure Suraieth wouldn't, either." And /that/ is apparently the only game along those lines he knows about. Her mention of history draws a thoughtful nod, the kind that suggests he's tucking that idea away for later, but for right now... "If I said grouchy, who /would/ your first instinct be? I suppose /you/ would have to be... 'fun', maybe?" Beat. "Ma'am." "Well, maybe when she's older," Reesa concedes with another fleeting smile and a glance for Suraieth's direction. As for grouchy: "N'muir." /That/ is no contest, given how quickly the blonde responds to that. She seems, if anything, /pleased/ at this guess for her. "Fun- I'll take that." It's said with a genuine smile, before she props her chin on the palm of her hand, and says: "Irresponsible." /Older/. Given Dal's expression, it's as though he finds it hard to imagine, even if he's just barely smiling for it... and for /N'muir/, too. "You're not our fearless leader's greatest fan, I see," he says, in a way that could very nearly be /teasing/. "I don't know him all that well, myself, but I admit he wasn't terribly friendly. But... irresponsible? Are you sure you're not just trying to get me to name you again? Even if you /are/ a weyrlingmaster-in-training." This time, he really /must/ be teasing. This time, Reesa manages to look affronted, even if it's /mostly/ an act. Mostly. "I'm not /that/ bad, surely? And how could you not have come up with N'rov's name immediately? He's done far worse than /I/ ever did." Or so she's claiming, anyway. She makes a disappointed purse of lips, then gives him a somewhat easier one: "Dedicated." "What's N'rov done?" /That/ is prompt, and made with a smile; evidently, for all that Suraieth is not a happy-cheerful-bouncy dragon, she's done something to encourage her rider's smiles, these past few months. "This is gossip I haven't heard, clearly. Dedicated?" One finger lifts to tap at his mouth, and his eyes go serious again. "The Weyrlingmaster. She dug me out with a /broken wrist/. How about... 'driven'?" "/I/ heard he keeps defying N'muir's authority, and he and E'dre don't much get on with him because of it. Something about a ship, or the tithes, or something." Reesa doesn't really know, or more than likely doesn't /care/ about the specifics. "I'm sure if you asked he'd readily tell you; he seems the sort." To brag? Maybe. "Agreed," of the Weyrlingmaster. "Driven?" the blonde echoes, tapping fingers to her lips in thought. "I can't think of anyone immediately. Maybe B'ral?" that old brownrider who is always up on the rim, waiting for the return of Thread. "Ambitious?" her gaze is on N'dalis for this one, interested in his take. N'dalis is interested in this explanation of N'rov, his expression not giving much away of his reaction to it; all he says is a quiet, "Huh. Interesting." He nods in answer to B'ral, adding, "I might've said the Weyrwoman, but I think there are other words you could use for her." He doesn't /seem/ to imply that they're negative ones. "Ambitious? A couple of my clutchmates, you know the ones. Wingleader before they graduate. But - people /say/ the Weyrsecond is, don't they? That he wants to be Weyrleader himself?" "E'dre? People /say/ so. I haven't had much to do with him outside the wing. But anyway, he rides a /brown/," Reesa says, dismissive: brownriders can't be /Weyrleader/. "I don't know why weyrlings agitate to be in charge anyway. It just means more work, more /hide/ work. I'd much rather be a wingrider, and have the freedom to do whatever I want with my free time." Quiet for a moment, Dal eventually says, "Suraieth said Tajireth was... not /ambitious/, as such, but... driven. He believed she could be more. More than what she was. R'zi, too." Mentioning his former clutchmate has his expression turning serious. "I think... I can't see myself as a leader, not at all. I'm a good /follower/. Perhaps that's why I'm a greenrider." "Dragons can be just as complex us we can." Some more than others, Reesa's expression might well suggest, given the wryness, though it doesn't last, given the talk of R'zi. "I suppose it depends where you come from, as well. I never really expected, nor wanted to lead. For someone like K'varl," once-heir to Boll, "Or B'rant, it must be a shock." It's the latter that makes her grin. "Khiabeth wasn't at /all/ surprised you Impressed a green. Said she knew, though of course she didn't /say/ until after Suraieth found you. But; for you I wouldn't say 'follower', so much as 'paternal'." "B'rant," says N'dalis, with a sigh. He's not the kind of person who speaks ill of others easily, but it's obvious that something about the former holder rubs him the wrong way. "Wasn't she? Hah. I /was/ surprised, but... she's perfect. And I suspect I would have been surprised at anything." /His/ descriptor makes him smile, if wistfully. "Paternal. I can't argue that. Even if... well, I'm not much of a father to my own son, at the moment. But I knew that, going into this." Reesa picks up on that tone, with an obvious interest. "You aren't a fan?" curious, more than judgemental; the greenrider doesn't seem to have a strong opinion either way. "You don't need to have children to be paternal; I saw the way you dealt with some of the younger candidates. The way you watched out for them." There's a shrug of shoulders, dropping casually as she spies one of the healers passing by giving her the stink-eye. "I'd better let you get some rest before I get shooed off. I'll have Khiabeth keep an eye on Suraieth." N'dalis hesitates before answering her question on the topic of B'rant. "It feels like he forgets that he is /also/ just a weyrling, though I won't deny that he helped when the-" barracks caved in, probably. His head shakes, and if there's more he'd like to say, he stops himself. "I suppose I've just had a lot of practice at being paternal. I'm glad I /can/ be. Can help, somehow. I - yes, of course. Thank you, Reesa. Ma'am." For brightening his afternoon, presumably. His smile is genuine, broader than usual. "She'd like that. Thank you." "Anytime. As long as she remembers, anyway," that concession to her dragon's lack of memory done with an ease of acceptance. Reesa pats N'dalis' arm briefly before she slips away. |
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