Who

Prymelia, tasna

What

Former acquaintances catch up while doing quiet tasks in the infirmary, touching on both philosophy and delusion.

When

It is afternoon of the nineteenth day of the third month of the first turn of the 12th pass. It is the nineteenth day of Spring.

Where

Infirmary, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 06 Mar 2014 08:00

 

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Infirmary

From the astringent smell of redwort, to the gleam of counter and cabinet, this place positively defines the concept of antiseptic cleanliness. Despite the yawning exit to the Dragonhealer Courtyard, the floors remain scrupulously swept of sand and particulate matter. Back behind the counter where the healers usually are, are shelves full of bottles and jars, as well as cupboards hiding away more delicate items that shouldn't be exposed to too much sand. Beyond the counter, there is the Desk, where patients are checked in and taken to one of the examination areas by a healer. The windows are usually kept open for the flow of air, but there is both shutters to shut out dust storms, and curtains for other occasions.


Mid-morning finds the Infirmary engaged in a flurry of quiet activity. Patients come and patients go. From minor colds, scrapes and a knifesmith in need of stitches to the recently graduated weyrling still recovering from the Fall over Keroon Hold. Tucked away toward the back with a basket of laundered bandages to her one side and a metal container of needlethorn at the other is Prymelia lips moving silently as she counts and drops the sharp thorns in units of ten into another bowl. Every so often, she writes a figure down on the scrap of hide before her and glances over at the injured rider, hurriedly dropping her gaze if he appears to stir or look in her direction.

Tasena carefully makes her way from the corridor toward the back, carrying a folded stack of freshly laundered linens. These, she tucks away with the ever-cycling supply of other linens, then spots Prymelia with her own task. Tas follows one of her furtive glance toward that rider, then frowns, turning back to the fellow candidate. She pulls a stool over to the other side of that basket of bandages and reaches down to find the end of one before she slowly starts rolling it. "Fancy meeting you here," she drawls quietly by way of an opening. She flashes Prymelia a quick smile, then turns back to the bandage, trying to make it as neat as possible.

Having been stealing another of those looks over to the convalescing rider, Prymelia doesn't initially notice the other candidate's arrival and lets out a heavy curse when Tasena suddenly appears RIGHT at her elbow. Having stabbed her finger in the process she sticks in her mouth and then offers the brunette a wry smile about it. "Long time, no see." Well, there had been breakfast but that's not what is meant. "You're the last person I expected to see being dragged into the barracks. What brings you up this way? Tired of the sun and the sea?" Amusement tracks the deliberate dismissal of sand in that little trio of nouns.

Tasena gives Prymelia an odd sort of frown at the 'last person' bit, paired with a wry sort of smile. She laughs while the first rolled bandage is finished, and sets it aside before reaching for another end. "Not entirely sure how to take that, but I think I'll say thanks," she drawls, smile quickly turning into a crooked grin. "Actually, I left Southern a few months ago. Felt the itch to try something new." She glances down at the newly forming roll in he hands and laughs. "This wasn't quite what I imagined, but I'll take it." She unrolls the strip of linen slightly to reset the angle, then resumes before giving the other candidate another quick look. "I was pretty surprised, myself, to hear you were in this area. Not as surprised at that white knot, though."

"Two-four-six-eight-ten," Prymelia counts under her breath going back to her task and drops the delicate bundle into the metal bowl then makes a mark on her hide. Glancing up a lopsided smile appears. "Its just that I met you first in Southern at the Tipsy Kitten so I just sort of always pictured you there. Which is probably silly given that.well, here we are both are." Another ten 'thorns are counted and marked and then a sly grin curves into place. "Aye, I traded my left kidney for it." She says of her knot. "You want to see the scar?" Humor fades and is replaced with a curious look being cast Tasena's way. "What had you imagined if this isn't it?"

"It's all right," Tasena counters, rolling her left shoulder in half a shrug as she grins at Prymelia. She goes quiet in order to finish the tail end of the second bandage, then sets it next to the first. She shakes her head in reply to the scar, teasing or not, but if humor fades from Prymelia's tone, it doesn't from Tasena's. "Oh, the usual. Fame, glory, riches." She tugs another end of bandage upward and works at disentangling it. "Honestly, though, I have no idea." She lets her hands fall to her lap with the somewhat tattered edge of linen dangling from her fingers. "Ever feel like you're a lost puzzle piece? I've always felt like no matter what I try, it's the wrong puzzle."

"Aha! I knew it!" Prymelia declares marking another bundle off. "You're a former gemcrafter that was scouring the Southern continent for a diamond the size of your fist. And now that you've found it, you're up here to sell it on the black market at the Bazaar because you were tossed out of the gemcraft when you streaked through the dining hall one night." A tall tale spun as only a trader can marked by a snicker and another counting of ten. At the end of which, hazel eyes lift to those of the same hue. "Aye. Square peg in a round hole my grandma used to call it." Hands come to a halt, fingers resting lightly over the edge of the basket she's counting from. "I've decided that maybe I don't need a hole. That I'm fine just being a square peg. Maybe…" a pause in which a small smile appears, "maybe you just need to BE the puzzle instead of being the piece." Philosophy 101. Yukie must be wearing off on her.

"Hey, I ain't sayin' nothin'," Tasena drawls, waggling a thin finger in Prymelia's direction before she splits into another crooked grin. She goes right back to rolling, though this particular bandage has seen so much use, it's hard to get it straight, or even a semblance of neat. But she's trying. "Maybe," she replies, "but if that's all it were, I don't think it would feel so wrong." She gets past a particularly warmed spot and starts rolling more quickly again. She gives the other woman a glance for the puzzle philosophy and laughs softly, though she does not otherwise reply. "So. What's your story? Seems we left Southern around the same time, but that's a bit of time between then and now."

"Tsk. Too late. I'm onto you now. You owe me at least a five percent for my silence." Prymelia asserts, counts another two sets of ten, marks them off and then setting the stylus down, settles her attention onto the other young woman. "Feels wrong how?" She prompts tilting her head slightly to one side. "Because you're in this time instead of that one?" She goes on to ask and then wrinkles her nose when the question of departure is spun back to her. "My time ran out and my da fetched me back here to face my contractual obligations." Her voice drops to a deep roll over the last two words which completely fails for being accompanied by an almost comedic roll of eyes. And then a sly little smirk appears. "But then this C'avema…K'flam…bitchy greenrider person thought I was someone else and another one, Teya," funny how she remembers that name, "gave me this," a tap to her shoulder, "and they dragged me away in the middle of the night and the rain," soooo dramatic, "to the barracks right in front of my da and…here I am. Ta daaa!" Grin.

"So you ran away," Tasena replies, her tone gentle despite somewhat blunt words. She sits up on the stool, half-rolled bandage forgotten as she studies Prymelia for a few long seconds. She shifts slightly, easing shoulders, and finishes up that third bandage finally, setting it next to the other two, its worn-out state all the more apparent next to the newer ones. "I don't think it has to do with jumping forward. I've chatted with all kinds of folks who did the same, rider and non-rider. This feeling started a whole lot earlier than before today's riders decided to visit yesterday's." The next strip of bandaging takes a lot more untangling, so she focuses on that for a moment.

"No." Disagreement is swift to come. "I relocated to broaden my horizons." Says the Pernese ostrich. Turning attention back to the basket of needlethorns a few more bundles of ten are counted out, gaze flicking upwards at Tasena's reply then dropping again as three neat marks are made. Picking out a few broken 'thorns and ones with blunted tips, Prymelia's brows knit in a line of contemplation. "Did something happen to make you feel like that or did it just sort of sneak up on you?"

Tasena's expression is clearly calling bull shit as she fixes Prymelia with a look. She does not otherwise reply or pry, however, turning back to her task as she finishes with the twisted bandage and begins on another, slowly reducing the pile in that basket. Her hands pause for a second after the question, then resume their motions, if more slowly. "Life happened. Like it does for everyone." She draws out the bandage to get it to lie flat, making the last bit of rolling easier. "Life is what you make of it, though. Right?"

Said look is conveniently ignored. Tra la la la la. Needlethorns. Very interesting needlethorns that…"Ow. Shit!" Another finger takes collateral damage and sucked on for a few moments. "Aye," Prymelia nods her agreement on life. "That it is. But sometimes if the happenings are beyond our control, it can be a bit hard to find the way forward again." She posits, scooping out and setting aside a few more unusable 'thorns. The last bundle of ten is counted, the leftover five noted and the metal bowl is set to one side with a note of the total number written onto the hide and set on top. Job done. "Are you happy? You know, about being searched and maybe finding a dragon out there with your name in its head?"

Tasena sets aside the newly rolled bandage and reaches for the last one, shaking it out to let the twisted fabric loosen. "It's something I've never tried before," she answers, smoothing out the fabric along her leg before starting the first little rolls. "That seems to be my life's work so far," she adds, looking over at the other woman with an amused smile. "And you? Are you happy, Prymelia?"

Elbow to table and chin propped in hand, Prymelia latches a contemplative gaze to Tasena for a few moments. "What is? Trying new things? In that case," she extends her other hand, "welcome to the club!" Grin. Trying new things FTW! Replay to the question put back to her is stalled when the injured rider coughs and then groans when healing scores across pull and stretch at the sudden movement. Frowning, attention drifts back to her fellow candidate. "Happy?" The question echoed as a wry expression patterns into place. "I don't know about happy but I am grateful to have a bit of freedom again."

Tasena's attention only moves to that injured for a second. "Do you know the rider?" she asks Prymelia curiously, rolling right past that whole topic of "happy". "I'm a little surprised they haven't assigned mindhealers to all of us. Choosing to stand for those eggs when the riders and dragons keep coming back like that," she continues, sounding distracted while finishing up the last couple rolls… and done. The bandage is set next to the others in an orderly pile before Tas gives Prymelia another look. "Freedom is a rather precious thing, though. Seems riders have plenty of it. At a price."

"No," Prymelia replies gaze averted but doesn't offer explanation on the injured rider. Attention jerks upward when Tasena's remark hits close to the mark. "I helped nurse T'ral after that rogue Fall. It's different now, isn't it?" Because it could well be either or both of them up in the air at risk of being scored. "Aye," the former trader agrees meeting that look coming from Tasena. "But then doesn't it always. Strange though isn't it? How the idea of freedom is at odds with the cost of it." Not a moment later, a harried looking young lad dashes in and drops a note on the table between the two candidates. "Looks like its kitchens next for me." Prymelia states after reading the missive and stands. "I'm glad we got a chance to talk. And I'm glad you're here." Because a friendly face is a gift to be treasured in an uncertain times.

Tasena watches that lad run in and out again without moving much more than her eyes until he's gone again. "Ah. Lessons for me," Tasena drawls quietly, grabbing the sides of her stool for a moment in a slouching pose before letting out a sigh and getting to her feet. "I'm just going to go ahead and say this. If you need to talk to someone— if you need to be honest with someone," she amends, a flat look sliding toward Prymelia, "come find me. I'm a good listener, and I don't squeal. It's why I was a good bartender, right?" That last is a little too dry, but then she gives the other candidate a relaxed little salute and heads toward the doors leading to the dragonhealer cavern without a look back toward Prymelia or that injured rider.

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