Logs:A'son Almost Got Killed
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| RL Date: 20 June, 2008 |
| Who: A'son, N'thei |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 26, Month 10, Turn 16 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: I'daur/Mentions |
| Infirmary post-fall. There are a significant number of injured riders being attended to, more than the usual from one of these random falls. Rumor is the bad weather really messed things up, nasty winds, rain, you name it, it fucked things up. A'son is set into a corner, curtained off from his neighbors. A healer is busy dressing and working on the injury to his calf, a score right across his muscle. He's pale and tired looking, a disconnected appearance to his eyes as he pointedly looks away from the medical attention being paid him. Somewhere between High Reaches Weyr and the Istan infirmary, N'thei must have got enough of the skinny to figure out to look for A'son among the distributors of numbweed. Jacket slung across his shoulder, steps jaunty while he passes one injury after another, he has the gall to let a grin catch him now and then-- though he also has the smarts to keep his head down so said grin hangs mainly in the shadows. A few subdued questions lead him from the entrance to the corner, where he holds up the curtain and leans a fraction of his weight on the railing that supports it. "So your people look like they've seen better days, brother." Humor in his voice while he surveys A'son's munched-on leg. A'son winces as the healer does something that doesn't feel fantastic. "Are you sure I can't drink that fellis? Because this shit really hurts." He grumbles to the man with gritted teeth. Surprise widens his eyes at N'thei's appearance. The other rider is given a long look, no words at first. Then, "Yeah. Thread gave us one more punch before going out. Naturally had to happen in the worst possible weather. Lost a lot of young ones." "Just think-- at least you're still alive to feel the pain." N'thei's eyes shine too brightly, too happily at A'son's misery, and he even spares the time for an encouraging smile at the ham-handed healer. "Damn shame. Losing good boys and girls. But that's what they signed on for when they said 'oh yes please, I want to be a candidate,' neh?" Staying at the curtained perimeter, he cocks his head to get a better view of the meaty leg there. "Oh c'mon, that's barely a scratch, you girl." "My birthday is tomorrow. I know the perfect present. Come just a little closer and I'll tell you." A'son lifts one hand in what is supposed to be a menacing way, shakes it and lets it drop down to the cot. "Deepest scratch I've ever gotten, I think. And man, you're an asshole." Is said in response to his words on losing the younger riders. The healer gives N'thei a disgusted look before standing up. "Can't have fellis. I'll get you some of that stronger numbweed. Stay there." Like he's going anywhere. "What are you doing here, anyway?" N'thei, grinning; "Even with you in prime condition, you're not exactly all that threatening. Seeing as you're crippled, it's just damn funny." He comes in only far enough to toss his coat over the end of the cot, to measure out his length in a shadow across the floor that steps out of the healer's way while he passes. Asshole, shrug, what else is new. "What do you mean, what am I doing here. I heard you were hurt, came to make sure you weren't at death's door. What if you'd died and I'd never told you, one last time, that you're a huge self-righteous prick?" With an air of worried tragedy. "Yeah, that's it. I'm writing you out of my list of who gets my shit when I die." A'son informs him, not with as much righteous indignation as he would normally have. He lifts an eyebrow up as his worried expression, slowly moving his head back and forth. "Uh huh. So, so far I've gotten 'You'll be fine', 'We don't know' and 'You might be a gimp for life'. Aren't these people supposed to know what's going on, you know, with injured body parts?" Lips purse together, eyes close, "You been alright?" N'thei turns a studious frown onto the injury, his arms crossed loosely to emphasize that scholarly facade. Pronouncement: "Going with gimp-for-life. But look on the bright side, least you'll always have a good conversation starter." The flash of his pleasantest smile, his brightest comraderie. "Been better than you, by the looks of things. You?" There's a pause, long enough for an abbreviated chuckle-- "Aside from the obvious." "Hey, nice to meet you. My leg's really hurting me today. Want to help me walk back to my weyr, gorgeous?" Says the tired voice, laced with an attempt at charm. "So that's how I'daur is always getting all those woman." A'son opens his eyes slowly to look at him again, catching his studious gaze. He smirks faintly. "I've been good otherwise. Real good. Been hearing a lot about you, though. Figured I'd come visit soon, on the down-low. You know?" "Doubt it's as elaborate as that. 'Name's I'daur. Got scars. Sex?'" N'thei stops abruptly after that, his eyes turned suddenly upward, his thoughts clearly casting through that scenario-- could that possibly work? Hrmn. "Winter's coming on, now you've got a prime excuse to delay that visit till the spring thaw. --Real good? Thought they all hated you and you were just counting the days till you could lose Aerianth's next." Prompting. A'son has to laugh at that, rubbing his hand across his face. "You're right. Maybe he doesn't even tell them his name. Probably just points at his knot." He shrugs his shoulders, "Yeah. Been winning them over, I guess. One at a time, learning about them. Winning Griere over too, I think. Despite that smug bastard around." Not to be deterred, "Since I'm not going to do that visit anytime soon. Guess I'll get it out now, before you run off due to a fear of the injured and helpless. Or a fear of healers and infirmaries. Or to chase a skirt. I don't know what's going on. Talked to Shanlee. Just figured I'd tell you before I got killed or something," A knowing and annoyed look is given to his leg. "Don't think you're a total jerk, but man. Try and keep out of trouble. A little." N'thei raises his eyebrows at the idea of winning over Griere. Impressed? Jealous? Disbelieving? Mix them all together and it comes out in his expression somewhere. Then; "I can take care of smug for you, just say the word." His smile twinges with a hopeful edge, but it doesn't stick around long when A'son starts going on about Shanlee. "Been talking to Shanlee for five turns, brother, and the woman's never had a kind word to say about me. So let me get you a grain-of-salt to take with whatever she's saying about me these days." "Heard talk of certain people lining a certain bronzerider's pockets. Not sure I believed it. I know a man who can be a total dick, but... I don't know if I know a man who... would... Ah, nevermind." A'son shrugs, tired, not able to get it all out in a coherent way. "Blah blah, sentimental stuff from me. You pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You insult me, I barely defend myself. Back to the norm." The hand wipes his face again. "As for smug. Ha, if you can get a hold of him I won't be upset if someone knocks the smug off his face. But he's an elusive little worm." Briefly serious-- "Know what people are saying. Believe it if you think it's true." There's no denying the accusation, not in the look that N'thei casts back to A'son, but he certainly doesn't look caught-and-confessed either. "Little quid-pro-quo? Right before I stopped fucking Caitlyn, she was digging for information on you. Don't figure it matters much, didn't tell her anything, but better to know than not." As for smug, the confident smile firmly believes he'd find the worm if he went looking, always cocky. "Was saying I didn't." He replies tiredly, glancing past N'thei for a second. It's not so much that Caitlyn is digging for information on him that gets him. It's the other part. His face blanks and he slowly brings his attention right around back to the other's face. "/You/ fucked her /too/. Oh, tangled webs. What did she think she was going to find out from you? I'm not exactly harboring any dark secrets." The glance followed, or maybe it's the tired tone? Either way, N'thei leans over to pull his coat from where it landed across the end of the cot. Wait-- "Too?" Dawning realization. "After all that fuss she made about not being a whore, who hasn't had their dick in that woman," with a derisive snicker. "Don't know what she thought she was going to find out. Stopped listening. Haven't talked to her since. Just something to keep your mind occupied on your long road to recovery." Another thought that leaves him grinning. "After all that shit about wanting a loving, caring, respecting partner. She fucked /you/. You must have really laid the charm on thick. I was drunk. Never again, my friend. I'll pass." A'son makes a face and then another one when that healer finally returns. With... a needle and sutures? What? The bronzerider gives look of 'you've got to be kidding me' to N'thei as he watches him pick up his coat. "Well. Leaving? Oh, if you see Talien? I tried to help you and redirect you and make you a better man. That's what I want for my birthday, that little lie." Frown to hide the smirk, shake of the head. Charm? "Withholding. Probably still be tapping her if things hadn't..." N'thei peters out, wobbles his palm, wishy-washy. The healer gets a look-- make it hurt, sir, make it hurt-- while he side-steps along the edge of the alcove toward the parted curtain. "You'll have to deal with that one on your own, brother. Talien hates me, her words." Eyes roll on his way out. "...Gross. See you around sometimes. Maybe in the spring or next summer." A'son lifts a hand to wave, almost dismissively at N'thei when he leaves. For the eyeroll about Talien he mimics it, wincing when the healer starts to poke him with a needle. The man's words can be heard even as the other leaves, "No, really. I want that fellis stuff. Shouldn't a man be knocked out for this?" N'thei fights the urge to knock out A'son, keeps walking-- must. not. punch. friend. in. face. |
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