Logs:Like Confusing Weaver and Woodcraft
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| RL Date: 29 May, 2013 |
| Who: Jinja, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jinja and Telavi talk hairstyles, sidekicks, sick wingseconds, and how to make Jinja's mom feel better about the whole healing thing. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 12, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'zin/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Sh'mel/Mentions, Treinan/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Jinja played by Madilla, first pose contributed by K'zin! Related to the series of month 11 snippets between Tela and K'zin (between part 10 Logs: Weak Lung Syndrome and part 11). |
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| Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr Two sets of double doors, one from the the inner caverns and a recently built set from the dragon infirmary, lead into the unnaturally hushed human infirmary. Despite fastidious cleaning, the scent of redwort and numbweed has long since soaked into every smooth-carved surface, along with other, subtler medicinal smells. Pristinely made cots are lined up against the walls; most of them are left open to view, but some in the back are surrounded by curtains for delicate procedures or critical patients. About halfway between the two entrances is the counter for the healers on duty; it guards the entrance to the storage rooms just beyond, their shelves and cabinets lined with meticulously labeled bottles, boxes, jars, and even vats of supplies. The Weyrhealer's office is also here, along with another side room for mixing up medicines and the like.
It doesn't take silver thread training to take coughing (more than coughing) followed by absence to make Telavi's next destination the infirmary. Not right away: he still might show up at lunchtime, after all, and that could be that, and wouldn't she feel silly for checking so soon? But when he doesn't, she has to wait until after chores, and then after dinner when he's still not there, and then a little longer to be more like the usual time she drops by to visit with Jinja. She's done her hair up prettily, if not in Snowasis come-hither fashion, and her blouse has a demure collar that's fastened with pearly buttons. It's been a little over a seven since she last looked in on the apprentices, only a little less than usual, and as Tela enters from the caverns, she carries her tea canister with her as something more than a prop. If she'd earlier emptied it back in her weyr... well, there hadn't been that much left anyway. Jinja's on her own, today, with Treinan assigned to other duties. It's a state of affairs the dark-haired Apprentice seems quite smugly pleased with; on her own, it's just that much easier to pretend that her knot is slightly more complicated, and that she's not just doing triage. Not, that is, that there are all that many people to triage: for the moment, she's quite on her own. Likely enough, she's supposed to be reading the book in front of her, but her gaze is wandering, meandering this way and that, and finally, delightedly, alighting on the incoming Telavi. "Telavi," she says, enthusiastically. "Oh, doesn't your hair look beautiful. Will you teach me how?" "It's so nice to see you'," Tela says genuinely, quick to make her way over to the apprentice. "Of course I will! Where's your sidekick?" Because of course Jinja is the hero of this particular adventure. "How to do it, you just..." and she sets the familiar canister onto the counter so she can lift her hair up and gesture appropriately. "Basically a crown braid, but you use big sections and it works better the day after you wash it instead of the day of. There's a little more to it, but you know what I mean, don't you, how you pick up the bits as you go along?" Jinja's eyes light with comprehension, though it's the first few remarks she actually addresses immediately. "He's helping in the workroom, some boring herb project that he thinks is absolutely fascinating. So glad I don't have to. So - a Nabolese braid." She has the smug pleasure of the Nabolese-born: of course such a braid is named after her home Hold, where, likely enough, her mother braids just like that for highborn ladies. Tela's dimples show. "I'll keep my voice down." Which she already has been doing, and she directs a mock-stealthy look towards the workroom... and then pans it around the cavern, to see who else might be there. "Nabolese, of course. Can you credit it, I heard a Neratian girl say once that it came from her Hold? How is your mother, anyway, is she still writing you every other day?" For now, none of the other healers on duty are paying Jinja and her visitor much attention; they all have things to do, real things, like tending to patients. Real things. "Huh," says Jinja, dismissively. "Of course they'd say that. They're just jealous, probably. Especially Neratians. It's so dumb, when people confuse themselves between the two, just because they both start with 'N'. Mother's well, and yes, she's constantly writing me, and on my case for not writing back more often. She still wishes I'd give up this healing stuff and go join her, but..." Her nose is in the air. "I won't. I'm going to be an amazing Master Healer, one day." The weyrling gets to listen with interest and increasing amounts of entertainment, even if a trifle of it is at Jinja's expense. "They do. It's like confusing Weaver and Woodcraft, basically. Doesn't she ever think that if she griped at you less, you might," might, "write more? If I could have apprenticed," but she wrinkles her nose, never mind that. "You'd think a mother would want a girl to do well by herself. Amazing-ly." Precisely, says Jinja's expression, and her firm, fervent nod. Precisely. "I still wonder sometimes if you're related to weyrlingmaster Quinlys somehow," Tela half-admits, half-teases, one dimple showing this time. "When you look like that! And she's not much older than we are, and co-weyrlingmaster already." "She's amazing," declares Jinja, though it's highly likely she doesn't really know the weyrlingmaster whatsoever. "It's so unfair that I can't even walk the tables until I'm twenty. You'll be graduated, soon enough, and I'll just be an apprentice forever. Anyway, I doubt my mother will ever understand me, but it's fine. We're just different." "Next time we have a clutch," Telavi decides, "you should write back and tell your mother that you've been Searched! and how it's so exciting! and see what she says to that. I bet she'd be so much happier about your apprenticing then." Jinja's laughter is delighted, and utterly unrestrained. "Oh, she'd about die, Tela, I can just imagine it now. You're right: she'd definitely see the whole healing thing as less of a step down compared to that." They were joking, and Telavi was after all the one who had brought it up... but if it burns to have it confirmed, it doesn't show in her flawless smile. "It's been busy, too, You know about our wingsecond, right? Not that even wingleader is the same as a real wingleader, but still they're sort of in charge, and there's a lot to do, and now fewer people to do it." There's no impression, from Jinja, that it's even occurred to her that her words might have the power to hurt; her smile is undaunted. Even when it comes to sick weyrlings. "Oh yes," she confirms. "He looks just awful, honestly. I hadn't thought about that, that it might mean extra work for people. Well, anyway. You'll just have to cope, because he's way too sick for any of that." "That bad?" Telavi catches her teeth pressing into her lower lip, and rubs it distractedly with her thumb for a moment instead. "But he'll be all right soon, won't he? And then you'll see, he looks much better when he's healthy, all those muscles and everything." "Pneumonia," intones Jinja, not exactly in the kind of way that suggests she's pleased or excited at being able to pronounce something like that... but there's a certain amount of grandeur to it, nonetheless. "He will be, though. He should have come to us sooner, and then he probably wouldn't be so sick, but he'll get there. I bet he does. I wish I had cute apprentices to work with. Or Journeymen." Those bluish eyes go wide on cue, Tela a prime audience for Jinja's healery dramatics. "But," it's practically an exclamation, right before she stops and listens to the rest. "I told him," she says with definite exasperation amidst the definite worry, the more frustrated for not being able to do anything. Or, perhaps, for not having tried to do more at the time. "Boys. When you start feeling awful, go to the healer before it gets worse, right? Because you all know what you're doing. Maybe they'll transfer someone in instead of the sidekick, let him do his herbology somewhere that's actually herb-y instead of gray, gray, and more gray." Not that the weather's getting to her at all on top of everything else. "Right? You'd think it would be straightforward, even obvious, but nooooooo." That 'no' could be extended for quite a while longer, but Jinja has other things to say. "Oh, wouldn't that be amazing? Stupid Treinan. And the weather. Maybe I should transfer to Ista or something." 'Nooooooo.' Telavi's mouthing it silently right with her, nodding. Only then, "No! No, no, no, don't do that. Ista's awful. It has... storms, and things, and also warm black beaches and nice strong drinks that you can't drink anyway because you're an apprentice still, you'd just be taunted." Taunted. Jinja makes a face. "I guess," she allows. "Anyway, it's not like I get to decide where I go, so it's all moot. I'm stuck here, no transport." "Where would you want to go?" If it's a cue, Tela still takes it, and gladly. "When you're allowed, I mean." Jinja's answer is prompt. "Someplace warm. I mean, just temporarily, though. I don't think I could actually live somewhere that hot all the time, you know? It does awful things to my hair, and I just bet my skin would hate it, too." "When you get the okay, next time that falls on my time off, or a late afternoon our time even, tell me ahead of time and I'll take you. But, you have to promise not to run off or get drunk or anything," Telavi may not exactly be back to her usual self, but she can still spare dimples for that. "I'd be in such trouble and then it couldn't happen again." Jinja's pleasure is nearly palpable, though there's every indication that she's been hoping for this outcome, oh yes. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and says, "Oh, I promise. Thanks, Tela, you're the best. I'll be the perfect model of a-- well, not an apprentice, but of a well brought up young lady, I swear." Tela may be able to keep her laugh quiet, but there's still the ghost of a girlish giggle in there somewhere. "We could even go to Nerat, you could rub your braid in their faces. Oh," not quite as afterthought, though there's a touch of chagrin there, "the pneumonia, it's not... catching, is it? You won't get sick?" Though she has a triumphant, "Hah!" for that braid remark, it's the other that has most of Jinja's attention. "No, no. It's fine. We wear masks over our faces if there's any chance of infection, but generally, it's not really a problem." Masks. Telavi's paled. "Good," she says. Except, and now she's worrying at her lip again, "Good that you won't. But what about people who... haven't been wearing masks? Around him? Like, um, the wingleader. Or anyone, really, how much do we need to worry? At least we're not all in the 'barracks. Most of us. Together." Jinja seems to realise only belatedly what this could mean, and she's pink cheeked as a result of it. "Oh, no, no, you should all be fine," she says - promises. "It's not super contagious. It would've been fine, completely fine, if he hadn't been an idiot. So no, no, don't worry at all. Really." Telavi's gotten to blushing too, right on Jinja's heels... and then she leans her elbows on the high counter right next to the canister and puts her head in her hands. "Just give me a minute," she says vaguely, muffled. Jinja hesitates, one hand lifting as though she intends to reach out and touch Telavi - though it hovers rather than doing anything else. "Are you... is everything all right, Telavi?" "Of course," comes the automatic reply except then, "No. No, it's not. Solith gets hurt. He keels over. And even before that," Telavi swallows, and lowers her hands. She doesn't look at Jinja, but her eyes are dry. "You probably get a lot of people coming in and then people they know visit and make it all about them." Jinja's face is pale, and her smile has entirely vanished. She seems... uncertain. Out of her depth. She doesn't look away, but it rather seems as though she wants to, as if she's extra aware of the Weyrhealer's office door, closed some distance behind her. "It's human nature," she says, very quietly, and with that uncertainty so audible. "I'm sorry." Whatever Tela might like to say, maybe even need to say, now she does make herself look at Jinja and smile, even. She can just about always smile. "What a healer-y thing to say, Jin." The way she says it, it is a compliment. "Well," says Jinja. "I am a healer." But though she forms a smile with her mouth, it doesn't quite reach her eyes; she's quiet, visibly sympathetic, and still, ever so faintly, uncomfortable. "Do you... you'll want to talk to the Weyrhealer, I suppose. About your tea? Not that I'm trying to get rid of you, Tela, I swear." "Does she really still want to talk to me?" Tela can roll her eyes at that, so she's back to normal, right? "Oh, I suppose." She taps a finger on the canister and, with disfavor, listens to it rattle against the countertop. "In a minute, anyway. Besides," and here she glances over at Jinja. "If you did want to get rid of me, it would be all right. This time. LIke that 'get out of the cell free' rule in the game," except that humor carries a mordant touch, because pirates. There's a whole range of emotions in Jinja's voice when she says, "She always wants to talk to everyone." Envy, wistfulness, awe... her feelings on the subject of Madilla are obviously conflicted. "I don't. Want to get rid of you. We're friends, aren't we? And friends support each other. When they're upset. I'm sorry that Solith got hurt. And that your friend is sick." "Maybe when she gets back to her own rooms, she gets cranky and yells and yells and yells," Telavi suggests as though she might have intimate knowledge of someone wanting to do just such a thing. "Thank you, Jinja. Solith... will heal, is healing, we don't know if she'll scar yet but she'll be all right, and you'd take good care of him even if it weren't for me asking, and someday your mom will wise up even if we do have to trick her into it, and yes. Friends." It may be just as well for Jinja that they're across the counter from each other, so no hugging, but she does reach out with one hand. Jinja's dubiousness must, surely, be for this idea that Madilla could ever be cranky and yell, which clearly doesn't play into her view of the Weyrhealer. Even so, she nods, and she's smiling again, especially as Telavi continues. Her hand reaches to join the weyrling's, fingers wrapping around fingers and squeezing, just gently. "Friends," she confirms. "It really will be okay. I know it will." And so Tela adds her other hand on the other side to make certain of the clasp, just a moment before slipping free. "Look at us, all cheerful," she says, smiling. As Jinja draws her hand back, she laughs. "And why shouldn't we be? We're young and beautiful, and we have our whole lives ahead of us." "Depending on your Weyrhealer," Telavi says ominously, although mostly, mostly jokingly so, and girds her loins to face the valiant... Madilla. |
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