Who

Fasai and E'bert

What

A trip to Rosie's gets interrupted.

When

It is sunset of the nineteenth day of the seventh month of the second turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Rosie's Daughters

OOC Date

 



Rosie's Daughters

The parlour at Rosie's is a dimly lit space full of barely dressed women. At various small tables paying customers play at dice or cards; in another girls dance to drum up attention. The bar does a roaring trade.


Sunset and it's still ridicuhot outside. Both the hour and the temperature conspire to make Rosie's quieter than one might expect for a business that is all about the revelry. But here it is: three rooms, each with a sort of dusty, echoing sense of solitude to them. In the gambling parlor, where card-sharks and dice-throwers will be later, girls now lounge engaged in quiet conversation. A child of no more than seven Turns and indeterminate gender is pushing a broom through the chaise-ringed dancing lounge, which stands empty since there are no patrons to dance for, just yet. And at the bar, the bartender is wiping down the counter while Fasai- a desert dream in stylized nomad's robes of sheer layered black- speaks to the woman who owns the joint, Rosie. "Of course it's a huge loss," she is telling the older woman, "but now there's indebtedness, and that puts us ahead, doesn't it?" Rosie, sadly, is hearing none of it. "Imaginary numbers owed does no one any good when the girls are running around without delicates to be ripped off. Half the enjoyment's in the unwrapping and we've no wrappers."

It's perhaps a little early for the usual crowd when the door opens. The man that steps through, young though he may be, is clearly a rider. The staggering steps could easily lead one to believe he's drunk when in fact E'bert has not, nor ever does, drink. He is in fact fresh off a long shift in the infirmary, and there's a girl here he's talked to in the past about another girl he's very smitten with. Alas Varlie is no where to be seen. Now what?

The signs of long hours at work are all over him, it's true! Signs that Rosie's girls are trained to notice, in fact, though more than a few eyebrows are raised at E'bert's staggering course through the door. Two of the younger ones, freshly flowered and still prone to girlishness, hide giggles and whispers behind their hands- an eruption of immature humor that puts the more adult ears on alert. Rosie's and Fasai's heads turn as one but it is the younger of the two who steps away from the bar to seek out the source of the fluttering. "Oh my goodness," is her cry when she claps eyes to E'bert. "Bellane! Get the young man some water! Sir, you should sit. Put your feet up." She's already gesturing to one of the lounging chairs intended for just such a purpose.

E'bert blinks for a few moments before understanding penetrates his brain, then stupidly he asks, "Is Varlie in?" she's not the girl he wants, but she understands and has helped to ease things along so that things don't become awkward with said girl. E'bert does eventually find a place to sit, and he's still looking very much like he should be sleeping rather than out and about on the bazaar.

"She's dressing," one of the other girls pipes up. One of the gigglers, though she does make an effort to strip that bubbly amusement from her tone of voice- coincidentally while glancing at Fasai. Small wonder, given the look the black-eyed woman gives Bellane (the other giggler) while she goes scuttling to fetch a glass of water from the bar. "If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, rider, I can have her fetched. And that will give you a chance to rest and drink, which you look in sore need of," Fasai goes on to say. The look that had demanded obedience is replaced with a gentler smile as she shifts focus back to E'bert. "You were there, weren't you? In the Bowl, when…ah…the dragons. The bronze and green. Their riders. You were with the healers."

E'bert nods, "I was," he confirms as he accepts the water, "Thank you," he says with just a hint of a crack to his voice. Again, it's the exhaustion. The fact is he's not sure what he's looking for just now other than someone to talk to. Someone that isn't another rider or healer.

The look that settles on Fasai's features is soft and concerned- not just for E'bert but also the two others referred to. It's a natural shift, an easy play of adjustment to fall into that mode. She settles at the very foot of the chaise to observe the young rider. "How are they faring?" is her question of him- though only after he's had opportunity to wet his throat with water. And though it might seem she's utterly focused, a twitch of one finger atop her clasped hands now sends the other giggler hustling up to sweep out of the room and into the hall that leads to the girls' rooms.

Water sipped, and set aside E'bert looks at Fasai, "Touch and go. Though the longer they hang in the better their chances become," he's nothing if not honest, and sometimes that honesty gets him in trouble. Sometimes it just gets gorgeous brown eyes blinking stupidly at him, and that is what sent him to Rosies in the first place. He had to be doing something wrong, or he'd have managed to get his thoughts across right?

"Have they said yet what happened? The wounds on the man, I've never seen anything like it." That E'bert remains a little out of it is no trouble at all for Fasai. If anything, it works in her favor? That gentle concern remains even as she poses these soft, probing questions. In the back of the house…someone giggles.

E'bert shakes his head, "No," simply stated, or at least if it has been said what happened; E'bert's not been privy to it. The wounds are something that have him slightly unsettled as well, "It's just a matter of time now," everything that can be done and all that. E'bert can't think of anything more to say, "It's good that both are responding positively to treatment," at least that's what he's heard. Is it good that he's discussing this with Fasai? Who knows? Though that he hasn't given information away that isn't already known probably plays in his favor. After all, if either rider had died the whole weyr would know. The thought of which causes the young rider's shoulders to twitch.

Let it not be said that Fasai can't read between some lines. Her nod is slow and sympathetic, but with the rider's answer, she also gathers herself to rise from her seat. "It's better than good," she opines. Then, perhaps on a tangent more welcome to E'bert, she cocks her head and says, "I do believe I hear Varlie. Would you like to go on up to her room, sir? You're feeling steadier?"

E'bert nods, "Thank you," he says softly as he rises just as his brown firelizard pops in to circle round his head. This elicits a groan, and he's heading for the door again, "Another time perhaps," he says pausing midway to the door, "It seems I'm being called back to duty," and off he goes like a good little sla… er… trainee. There are dragons that also need tending after all. A moment's hesitation, and E'bert turns to Fasai, "Could you give Varlie this?" and a small, intricately carved rose is drawn out, "I was going to ask her what she thought of it?" but on thinking about it, he'd rather just let the girl keep it.

Interruptions: the bane of Rosie's business. Fasai is hard pressed to keep her expression placid when the firelizard intrudes- fie on a summons elsewhere! But there's nothing to be done for it and her smile doesn't so much as twitch as she moves with E'bert to see him out of the establishment. The production of the card trinket is observed with raised brows but no judgement. Indeed, there's some admiration to be seen in her eyes as she carefully accepts the little thing and inspects its lines. "It's lovely, I have no doubt she'll adore it. Good luck, sir. I've no doubt your patients will thrive under your watchful eye."

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