Logs:Hobbled and Helpless
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| RL Date: 2 April, 2015 |
| Who: Leova, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A glimpse of Leova and Lycinea in the cave-in. |
| Where: Cave-In, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 6, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Angst. Waaay back-dated. Someone (me) is bad about clearing out their back-log of RP things. |
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| The dust has settled, as long as nobody moves. Lya doesn't move often, but now she brings breakfast, sniffling. "Bacon," is hoarsely announced. Bacon. Leova hasn't had words for a while, not really, not unless it's Vrianth. Not after she Impressed, and not now. She favors her bandaged ankle, sits with the other knee bent, sits and sits. Food generally passes by her. She doesn't eat much more than she talks. But. Bacon. Her head turns, slow and rough as rock shifting against rock. The blonde doesn't talk much either, really. Or eat much. How much food they must just send back between them all. Lya crouches beside Leova setting the tray down before wrapping her arms around her knees and staring down at the covered plate. "I can't tell if they're sure we're going to die so they're giving us our last meals," what with the meat shortage, "or if they want to give us something to live for," what with the bacon. In any other circumstances, Lya might be trying to be funny, but here, now, with her rough voice, tear-stained face and worried look, there is obviously no intentional humor in it. Send back... or save just in case there's another crash. Amber eyes hold on the girl. "Is it bacon." Or did they just say it was. "Yes." Lycinea confirms with a sigh. "I bit one. It tasted like bacon." And dust. But she doesn't need to say that, since she's already said she bit one, which means it must have tasted like dust since she didn't eat it. "Do you think we're going to die?" She queries of the greenrider soberly. "Not soon." Leova sinks her head back to the wall. She looks out at nothing anyone here can see. "Can't let that get into Vrianth's head again." "Is it awful for her, to feel so helpless?" Lya wonders quietly. The space between breaths last and lasts. Her eyes are still open. Leova says, "Helpless isn't the word... Could call it that. But she," she moves, if only to scratch at the base of her neck, "don't feel that. Just hasn't found the way, yet." "That must be frustrating." Lycinea concludes after a pause. "I feel helpless," she adds after another. "Do you?" It's longer this time. "Aye." Leova pulls up her good knee. Leans on it. Looks out once more. "Hate being hobbled. Waiting." "Waiting for the sky to fall," Lycinea murmurs and then goes silent some moments before she surrenders to quiet sobs, sitting back on her rear and bending her forehead to her knees. Or for Vrianth to slash the mountain down. She hasn't yet, though not from lack of trying. Cadejoth soothes her, channels away static and worse through his chains. She can be prickly with Arekoth when she's not muted. Sometimes she falls into a fitful sleep. Sometimes Leova wakes up to that. Sometimes she can't wake up. Sometimes it's easier to sleep and sleep and take Vrianth with her. The blanket helps. The way Keysi had wrapped her ankle. It throbs. Sleep helps that too, but she can't sleep all the time. She's hobbling back from the impromptu latrine when her ankle turns. She catches herself on the wall with a hiss, her shoulder smacking into it hard. Maybe she hasn't woken too many people up. Lycinea doesn't sleep much; do any of them? She's easily roused but the smack of shoulder against stone must have been something else in her dream, for she wakes screaming and cowering, arms thrown up above her head. Somewhere near where Leova hit. If the rest aren't awake, they probably are now, wherever they are in the small tomb. That gets through the blanket. The physical one, too. Leova twists, forearms rising, less fight or flight than do. Only her ankle gives, again. Raspily, "Not going to hurt you." It's possible Lycinea hasn't heard Leova's words, or perhaps she has and they're what prompts the terrified screams to become overwhelming sobs that rack her body and have her balling tighter in on herself. As is often the case, this will go on for sometime, but at least it's not screaming, so there's that? All that sobbing, what it brings out, Vrianth is not pleased. The greenrider looks at the girl like she could tie her up. Swaddle her, except not so kind. She sets her hand to Lya's shoulder, instead. Firm pressure, not a push. That, before she leaves her. |
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