Logs:Smile Like You Mean It
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| RL Date: 7 April, 2015 |
| Who: Faryn, Schuyler |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Faryn and Sky share a quiet, grieving moment after the bazaar. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 6, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Tomic/Mentions |
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| The infirmary is pretty busy after the mess in the bowl. Sky has been given a cot off to the side and he leans back against the wall, sitting up and looking around but looking pretty worn. He's covered in soot but it looks like his injuries have been tended to for the moment. "First the tunnels, now this?" The voice that comes from the hall is tart and laced with concerned agitation. "Don't you have to wonder? Wait here, I suppose." Faryn's entrance is quiet, meant to be non-disruptive, and the herder makes a beeline to the stores that are out while muttering bitterly to herself about children and comfort, about humouring them and keening. She's clearly embroiled in those particular thoughts while she digs, and eventually she removes herself from one storage area to look around for a healer, who is not immediately present to assist. "Where is the sharding numbweed?" Schuyler catches sight of Faryn the moment she walks in. He watches her hunt around before asking her question. "Try the shelf over here." he points with his uninjured hand to a stack of shelves not to far from where he is sitting. He sounds slightly out of it. In the middle of turning a slow, room-scouring circle, Faryn's eyes widen at the voice and light on Schuyler - the only one apparently not sleeping at this particular moment. She frowns, following his pointing finger, making it to the shelf he's identified, and then saying, "Great." It sits several inches above her head, and unless she's developed the power to climb walls or levitate, it's well out of her reach. She gives a token effort, anyways, and when her fingers don't even come close to the bottom of the shelf, she turns her attention back to the baker, as if his tone is just catching up. "Too short." There is concern in her face, though, and she is distracted from her task long enough to give him a good look. "You should be resting," is her conclusion. "Are you alright?" Schuyler has a slight grin on his face watching her try to reach the shelf. "I'd help...but...I'm supposed to be resting." he teases. He sobers slightly. "And I am resting, just can't sleep." a pause. "I...will be. You look to be ok, you escape the blazes or did you miss the whole thing? I don't remember seeing you...not that I had much of a chance to see anything what with that green..." he half mutters. "Shards I need to talk to the Headwoman..." he looks around as if she would be there at this ungodly hour. "Haha." Faryn takes a few steps closer, all the better to covertly examine whatever injuries he's got, as if she has any expertise in the matter. She crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm fine. There were a bunch of kids pestering me. I guess they couldn't find Tomic." A shrug, a distant smile for that particular fact. "When the fire started, we weren't too close, but...I thought it was best to keep them away, is all. Too many people, too many stalls. It was too fast. I didn't want them to get hurt so I left. I missed--" She breaks off there, chewing her lip anxiously. Schuyler has a large bandage on is left leg and his right hand has another large bandage on it, for all her looking it's hard to tell what happened. There are a few other red patches of skin that are shiny with some kind of burn cream, but they look mostly superficial. Her fade off is met with understanding. "That's good...especially if you had kids around." he offers, his eyes showing he was not spared that particular horror. Faryn's sigh is heavy, weighted with what the entire weyr is feeling. Even without a dragon, there is such a poignant loss, and if the candidate needs to brush a lock of hair out of her face that conveniently covers her eye, drags the palm of her hand against it discreetly, well. At least she doesn't seem to be sniffling, not yet. "They didn't have to see anything. They heard it. That sound, it's worse than seeing anything. Down to your bones." She shakes her head, looks for a place to settle the weight of her misery, and can't find a single empty cot nearby. She settles with standing, then,but her shoulders slump a bit. "I just...what happened?" It's a stupid question, and she doesn't expect an answer at all. Schuyler takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess that's true." he shifts over on the cot, it's not big but there's enough room to sit on the edge if she wants to sit down, comfortably if she doesn't mind sitting close to him. He tilts his head back. "I don't really know. There was smoke...then...the stalls started falling and people were running and screaming...or not doing anything. So many people just froze, no one knew what was going on." he shakes his head. There is no comment offered for that, not really. She gives him a smile, one of those smile like you mean it ones that doesn't come across entirely given the day's events, and waves off his tacit offer of a seat. "You need to settle in and get some rest," she says, aware she's repeating her statement from earlier but satisfied it still stands. "I just came to grab some things for their scrapes. The kids, I mean. I can't fix them, not here," she taps her head, "but I can make them feel like their bruises and scrapes are worthwhile, less...permanent." Less like death. "Do you want me to get you a sleeping draught? I can get the healers." She gestures, vaguely, incidentally encompassing the whole infirmary since there's got to be one around somewhere. Schuyler shrugs and shifts back, smiling at her, also trying a bit too hard. He nods about her reasoning for coming to the infirmary. "No...I'm ok. I'm not ready to sleep yet." he peers towards the door. "Though...a midnight snack might not be bad?" he gives her a big cheesy puppy-dog smile at the request. There's some levity to be found, then, when Faryn says, "Do you have some secret stash of goodies in there? If I go get them," and this is slow, wondering, "does that mean I'll know where you keep the really good stuff?" This doesn't delight her as much as it might some other day; she looks tired, now that she's stopped moving nonstop. "Are you sure you're allowed to eat?" Read: are you sure you even have an appetite, after today? "I'll not have the healers on my ass, if you're not." Schuyler smirks. "I should have a tray of things still cooling from this evening. Figured I wouldn't need them at the bizarre, right?" he tries to joke. "Uh...anyways...If you go in and go to the third nook I have a cooling tray waiting there." a pause at the question. "As far as I know I'm allowed to eat. No one told me I couldn't." he totally didn't get the subtext of that question at all. Faryn's shrug is one shouldered, not committed to anything either way. She moves back to the trolley of goods, just to double check again for the numbweed, and snagging a few bandages to stick in her pockets in the process. "I've got to get the bandages back, at the least, numbweed be damned. Half the 'brats won't sleep, now. Everything hurts more, right now." She looks back over her shoulder at Schuyler, stopping her search momentarily to say, "I'll make you a deal. If you're still awake when I come through to go to bed, I'll make a kitchen trip for you?" Schuyler grins. "You got a deal." he grins. "And wine...please bring wine when you come back." he smirks. "Totally better than a sleeping draugh. I heard there was wine in the living caverns." "That there is." Faryn's reply to that is grim. "I'll bring two. If you're awake," she reminds him, making sure that caveat is clear. "I need to go now, though. Some of the nannies are still trying to explain this to the younger kids - they're not doing great when people are out of sight too long, and I've...been out of sight too long." She tips a gentle nod his way. "Feel better. I'll check you in a bit." The herder turns, then, slipping out the door. She can be heard reporting to the companion that waited in the hall, "No numbweed, but these..." and their footsteps carry their words away, leaving the infirmary in relative silence again. |
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