Ja'un (NPCing Rom'thor), Xanthee, Zetali


Xanthee and Zetali dash to the Dragonhealer Yard to visit a clutchmate stricken during erratic Threadfall.


It is afternoon of the thirteenth day of the eighth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Dragonhealer Yard, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 28 Nov 2018 08:00



"Xan, a little help, here? Maybe we can get him inside to a cot before he starts drooling on one of us."


Dragonhealer Yard

Painfully elegant, a stubborn brand of cleanliness is retained in the gentle colors of faded murals and various curtains hung from the rusted metal poles meant to shelter injured dragons on spacious couches lining the permanently soot-stained limestone walls. Of a dusty no-color somewhere between brown and gold, the floor extends onward, fading beneath ragged cabinets built to withstand anything from lashing draconic tails to various medicinal spills.

Rom'thor and Basileth are both being housed nearby. The dragon and rider hold the unenviable distinction of being the first of this clutch to be grounded from thread. Keroon Hold's threadfall was erratic, torrential rainfaill and almost side-ways wind put all flights through a baptism of flame. Literally, with some getting singed here or there. Rom is on his feet, aloft and waving in place as he stands by while Basileth gets stinky stanky numbweed applied to scores. A an airy linen tunic can't hide the bandages wrapping across his back and over his shoulder, giving him a pronounced hump.

Having flown in the last half of the Fall, leaving her brown and bronzeriding wingseconds to lead the first on their own, Xanthee was there when the pair were hit. It's a system they've had in place since they took the knots, with Xan switching between first and last half for each Fall, getting used to both shifts equally. So she had already heard that things were taking an erratic turn when her and Liowyth popped in to lead the weyrling wing in the lowest level flight. It was a battle that had her relaying instructions with such speed that she honestly believes Liowyth just started plucking them out of her head to save time. The chaos was intense and Xan didn't actually witness when Rom'thor and Basileth were struck, but the scream of his dragon is one she'll have a hard time forgetting any time soon. As soon as the rest of the wing were back and dismissed, Xanthee jogs towards the Dragonhealer's yard, shedding helmet and throwing open flight jacket as she goes. She's sweating and out of breath when she finally spots the blueling and pulls up short to see him on his feet at least. She staggers forward and puts her hands on her thighs, with a breathless, "Thank Faranth!!" before words become impossible.

The odious scent of numbweed permeates the dragonhealer yard during active Threadfall. Rank as it is, it's something of a comfort to the dragons and riders who really have need of it. It's still enough for anybody to wrinkle their nose, though. Having been thrown into a leadership role as Xanthee alternateded out, Zetali has handled the responsibility more ably than her sleep-deprived appearance looks capable of; relaying orders with the same lightning speed that Liowyth had demonstrated. Despite his clumsy, awkward, seemingly oblivious personality, Odskovith has also proved himself a formidable opponent against Thread, gaining the kind of hyper-focus and competency that he absolutely doesn't seem capable of. Small favours. With Odskovith taken care of and what work necessary done, Zetali arrives not long after Xanthee, sweating and puffing for breath as she leans against the wall. Her dragon had told her who, but while he's not someone she actually cares much about, they're still clutchmates. It's like siblings. Sort of. Kinda. Okay, not reall. "Oh—thank Faranth," she manages, still gasping like a landed fish. Don't mind her, she's just going to try and catch her breath, now, because passing out would probably be bad. It's way too hot to be running around out there. Stupid desert.

Rom'thor is getting fussed at just a bit. Shouldn't you be sitting down? But only apprentices think that a rider would stay resting when their dragon is being treated. Basileth will have an interesting constellation of diagonal lines upon his haunch once he is all healed up. Not that Rom is feeling any pain at this point, the scent of numbweed heavy in his nose and almost stinging his eyes. The dragon might be able to fly before the rider at this point, his wounds are shallow but long, while Rom'thor perhaps should be bedridden. The arrival of leadership has him straighten up in a way that pulls awkwardly on the bandages and he turns to face the oncoming storm. "Basileth is fine, more or less." The scream was for the rider, probably, the one who looks like a hunchback now. "Has anyone elseeee….." Except now Zetali is here, and the young rider clamps his mouth shut again.

Once she's managed to slow her heart rate to something that isn't going to get a healer to ask her to take a seat, Xanthee straightens again, pushing sweaty raven tendrils from in front of her face with a touch of irritation. Walking more calmly now towards him, Xan takes in more details as she squints in his direction. She does not like the way he's getting fussed at, or the sheer amount of bandages on his back. Looking around, she spots a nearby stool, not her first choice, but any port in a storm, and brings it over to plop it down next to Rom'thor before pointing at it and saying, "Not another word until you're seated weyrling." She says in what she hopes is her sternest, but with a touch of concern, voice. She can't imagine what he's going through, his lifemate injured as well as himself. Glancing over her shoulder at what made the blueling clam up like that, she struggles to stiffle a laugh when she sees Zetali walking over. "Don't you agree Wingsecond? That Rom here needs to get off his feet?" Maybe he'll listen to the brownrider, Xan is well aware of the boy's massive crush on her. Might as well use it to her advantage, shamelessly even.

Thank Faranth for all that physical training in weyrlinghood. After gasping like a landed fish for a few minute, Zetali is able to straighten, swatting her own sweaty, frazzled brown hair out of her face. Bathing after this is going to be a luxury. She seems about to say something, but then her eyes slip out of focus; a brief back-and-forth with her dragon. When she comes to, she shakes her head. "Can't smell a thing over the numbweed, so my guess is Basileth is better off than you." She trails after Xanthee, although she doesn't sit, standing at the greenling's right side. She folds her arms, then, looking between Xanthee and Rom'thor, frowning slowly. Why is he going so quiet? Her eyes slide back to Xanthee. Her eyes narrow just a little, and she jabs a finger at the nearest stool. Doesn't she agree that Rom needs to be off his feet? "Sit. Down," Zetali growls in her best intimidating tone, partly because it's stupid for him to be walking around, and partly because Xanthee deciding to play that card is irritating. But yes. She agrees. "You're going to tear your wounds open, and then Basileth is going to get upset, and then I'm going to get upset, because Odskovith is already up there practically wringing his paws over the fact that one of his clutchmates finally got 'scored real good. Not your fault, but you don't have to make it any worse." Indeed, one could probably have heard the brown's sad, fearful warbling all the way back to Igen Weyr, before they'd actually arrived. Odskovith is one to wear his heart on his nonexistent sleeve. There's a short pause, and she snorts, nostrils flaring. "…And stop staring at me like that."

Rom'thor doesn't really have a choice, apparently, with apprentices and journeyman eyeballing him over his standing around. Wingleader and wingsecond now here and EYEBALLING him. His chest expands, fills out and his backside eases down onto that stool that had been brought up for him even when he didn't initially have intentions upon sitting on it. Basileth's gem faceted eyes roll in rapidly shifting colors that settle once Rom settles. "Its hard not to stare at someone who has turned so pink from heat, she looks like an almost ripe redfruit." Sassypants over here, not willing to take that sitting down! Even though he is sitting down now. The young man's blonde hair is plastered onto his head from his helmet, even though it is long gone, that jacket is tattered now. He will need a new one. "Basileth will be telling plenty of the dragons he is fine in a few minutes, I am sure."

Xanthee looks pleased when Rom'thor finally takes a seat, nodding at him, and smiling at her Wingsecond, a little apologetic for having to sink so low. "There! Much better," she says before turning to give the blue a good once more, swallowing the lump in her throat that results from seeing fresh Threadscore up close. Putting on a strong face though, she bobs her head after her inspection of the dragon to turn her attention to the rider. "Ok, you've told me that Basileth is ok, and I'll get the report form the dragonhealers in a little bit, but what about you Rom'thor? That's a lot of bandages…What did the Healers tell you?" Surely she'll get her own report from them as well soon enough, but for now, she wants it from the runner's mouth as it were. "Also, what exactly happened? I didn't manage to catch any of it, did you Zetali?" she turns her head with concern in the brownrider's direction. Liowyth, drawn by Odskovith's fearful warbling, offers herself up for a comforting snuggle, still reeking of firestone but the green doesn't care.

"Hmph." Zetali's only concession when Rom'thor takes a seat is to snort, quietly. There may or may not be a look shot at Xanthee for that low blow, but the injustice is forgotten quickly enough. Her attention swivels back to the dragon, and while most sensible people would quail, Zetali forces herself to look. She forces herself to study the details, to note the way the Threadscoring seems to ravage across the dragon's hide, only to skip over other nearby areas, and then stripe it again. It'll leave an interesting scar. Once she's had her fill, she swallows against a dry throat and turns her attention back. While she doesn't justify Rom'thor's backsass with a remark, she does cast him a withering look. It works pretty good with how vivid those sea-green eyes are. Zetali shifts her weight, shaking her head to Xanthee. "Sorry, Xan. Can't say I did. Odskovith and I were fighting to hold our own out there, too. We almost didn't make it." Meanwhile, the brown dragon is quick to cuddle up with his clutchmate, heedless of the stench of firestone and numbweed. That seems to comfort him, and he folds a wing over the smaller green as though in a draconic hug. Yes, he is really a big squishy softie.

"I'm fine. I can stand, sit, walk. It was rough, but the numbweed has taken care of the pain. I'll be good by next threadfall." Healers scoff themselves. He will not be good by next threadfall. "Theres only a few marks." There are five or more, they threw numbweed on him after cleaning it up and didn't really count. How it happened? Rommy's peachfuzzed chin lifts and he considers for a few moments, eyes shifting from Xanthee to Zetali again. Her penetrating cat-intent gaze doesn't seem to rattle him much anymore. "The wind shifted." Is where Rom'thor starts, because the actual reason is a good place to start with. "My flight went between, but we were flying point, we weren't quick enough." The blonde lanky young man is paler than normal now, definitely some blood loss occured. "My jacket is ruined." Tacked onto the end of it, like it mattered.

Catching those scoffs by the Healers, Xanthee shoots them a glance as she frowns, considering getting the blueling's report sooner than later when he doesn't exactly answer her question, "I'm glad you think that you could be back for the next Fall, but more than likely it will be longer than that." She muses before looking back to Zetali and considering her words as well. "I wonder if Ja'un saw it, I'll have to ask him later," she murmurs to herself before turning back to Rom'thor and his explanation. Nodding along with it, she hums thoughtfully, "Yeah, the wind was wild out there. Good thing Liowyth's so hefty, and she was still having a hard time." The jacket is examined, and then the palor of the boys cheeks worry her as she looks at Zetali while pointing at the blueling. "I'm going to talk to a Healer now and see what they say. He looks like he might pass out at any second, can you just stand next to him and catch him or something if he does?" Zetali can surely handle that, right? Well she's gotta, cause Xan is off to converse with the nearest journeyman she can snag.

He is totally not going to be fine by the next time Thread falls, and he will totally have more scarring than he probably thinks he will. Zetali folds her arms as one unconvinced. If they're a good cop-bad cop duo, Zetali is at least the grumpy cop. She listens to his account with… it's not quite a scowl, but it's still kind of grumpy, because she does care and she is a secret worry-wart, even if Rom'thor's absurd crush is completely one-sided. Clutchmates gotta stick together, yo. The former harper sighs blandly. "Your jacket is probably the least of your concerns, right now. Look on the bright side. You don't have to worry about that for a while. Because you're not going to be up and wandering around for a while." Pointed look. Pointed look of 'and if I see you wandering around, I will snap you in half.' Maybe. "You might ask Ja'un," she agrees to Xanthee. "Even if he didn't see it, there's a fair chance Loranduth did. I understand he's pretty observant… yeah. It was a wicked and wild wind. Even Odskovith was getting buffeted around like the littlest green." Zetali, however, goes back to folding her arms and grumbling under her breath like a volcano. "No," she comments, side-eyeing Xanthee's retreating back. Sea-green eyes turn back to Rom'thor, glaring. "I'm letting you fall if you do anything stupid that makes you pass out. Clear?"

Of all the people to be wingsecond, it had to be her. Rom'thor might even desire her to just go away please, thank you. Plenty of people picked up on that 'huge' crush that he has totally let go off already. Its non-existent. Purely professional relationship now. "Loranduth was fairly close by…" Yes. Basileth's snout settles upon the ground now once the numbweed kicks in completely everywhere. Comfortable blue dragon, all the color of swirling sapphire getting cozy now that the minor pain is gone. Rider nor dragon hurt or ache, so all is well. Except for the sudden way everything around him just got wavy. "Oh whoa. Shards." His shoulders droop, he sways in place like a snake. And leans one way, way way….but doesn't timber. He jerks himself upright harshly and of course starts to fall the way other towards Zetali.

Wandering towards a hovering nearby Journeyman, Xanthee converses with him briefly, nodding along to several point he makes, casting glances back at Rom'thor at regular intervals as her frown deepens by what she hears. She's just turned back towards the Healer when Rom starts to sway i his seat, when she turns her gaze back and sees him swaying towards Zetali, she mutters, "Oh shard it!" under her breath. "Zali!!" In her rush, Xan compresses the brownling's name to two syllables only as turns on her heal and sprints back towards them. Surely though she'll arrive too late to catch him if he goes, so, Zetali, no pressure now.

"I didn't see where Loranduth was, but if he was anywhere close enough to see, I'm sure he has the details. I'll ask Xanthee to talk to Ja'un later." Zetali rattles all that off rather businesslike, but maintains her position where the greenling wingleader had left her. Sea-green eyes slide sidelong as Basileth's snout touches the ground, and as Rom'thor wavers on his seat. With an annoyed sigh, she snaps a hand out as the boy wilts toward her, keeping him from teetering off the stool with a palm planted on his shoulder. "Xan," she drawls, as her friend comes running. "A little help, here? Maybe we can get him inside to a cot before he starts drooling on one of us. Don't think he's gonna be up for too much longer." She doesn't glare, but she does look flatly at the bluerider, planting her other palm on Rom'thor's other shoulder, just to keep him from tipping off the stool. "Shouldn't be, anyway."

Yes, Xanthee. Rom'thor is woozy. Just, swaying like a palm tree in the breeze…Oh! The young man starts as he gets caught and glances up towards Zetali with unsteady eyes. "You aren't as pretty as you used to be." The statement is made with deadly seriousness, Xanthee ignored for the moment while hands reach down to grasp the heft of the stool's seat and use it to pull himself back upright again as a journeyman healer comes over to press a hand against his neck. "You used to have a sparkle and you don't. Anymore. Maybesyoushouldsleepmore." Oh. Things settle back down again, and he moves to ease upwards onto his feet and stand up. "A cot will be fine. I'll probably be sleeping on my stomach awhile, won't I?"

Xanthee gets back to the blueling just in time to add her steadying hand to the boy's shoulder, being careful of those bandages on his back. Also just in time to hear Rom's rather bold statement to her wingsecond, her emerald eyes blinking owlishly in response, slipping her gaze from blueling to brownling and then back again. "Well…umm…The healers are telling me they tried to get you to rest once you were banadaged, but you wouldn't until you saw Basileth was ok. Well, you can see now, he's fine and is resting, now you get to." Her tone may be friendly, but her demeanor clearly states that Rom'thor doesn't have much of a say in the matter. Tucking her arm tightly under his, Xan nods at Zetali to do the same, so he's supported on both sides. "Now come on, back to the infirmary."

Sea-green eyes flick down when Rom'thor gives his proclamation in due seriousness. Zetali stares at him flatly for a few seconds, narrows her eyes, and then says with great serenity, "I'm going to exercise the benefit of the doubt, and pretend that I didn't hear that." When Xanthee gives the signal, she hefts her side of the blueling, but she's not half as gentle as she probably could be. Oops. "You're half out of your mind on numbweed, and they probably gave you a touch of fellis, too. Into a cot with you." Xanthee might hear a subtle sound. Zetali is grinding her teeth. "Hey, Xan, is Basileth out? Maybe it'll help this one sack out if the dragon goes under. He'll stop saying stupid things, yeah?" Her grin is a little bit blade-edged.

"Oh, I've been thinking that awhile, Wingsecond Zetali. Maybe you'll be pretty again when you sleep." Yeeppppp, Rom'thor is on his feet. Standing. Mostly on his own power. Or not! Apparently, his arms are grasped and people are helping him stand, and walk a bit now. "We have him set up in the third one over there." Which makes sense to the people who are half-carrying him while his legs move almost steadily under his body. Blood loss probably. And the Fellis, either way, he is a willing participant in the walk to get him faceplanted into a pillow and onto a bed.

With a subtly proud nod for Zetali's good sense, Xanthee hefts as well, her turns of weight training really coming in handy in this particular endeavor. She shoots a look over at the blue dragon, whose second set of lids are just starting to cover the multi-faceted eyes. "Shouldn't be long now," she replies to the brownrider as they start walking him towards the infirmary, her grip on his arm is firm as she takes half his weight onto her, trusting Zetali with the rest, "Let's get him to a cot though before that happens." A nod is given to the Healer who provides them with the directions, and once they are inside, makes her way to what she assumes is the right cot. If not…Oh well! Now that they're there, she looks at the cot, and then looks at Rom and Zetali, "Soooo….how do we want to do this?" she asks.

The former harper is silent at that appraisal, and silent as she helps Xanthee guide the wavering wingrider towards the safety and security of a cot. Zetali marches him ungently on, only as gentle as she has to be to keep from ripping his 'scores open. That is to say, not all that gentle, and there's a reason why she wasn't an apprentice healer. Bedside manner, what's that?! Heaving and dragging where she has to, Zetali tries to work with Xanthee's gait as much as she can, but a human being always seems seventy pounds heavier when they're dead weight. That firestone lifting and weight training has certainly paid off for her, too, although she's more whipcord muscle than anything else; a runner's build. "I vote we just put him down," she says sweetly, "because if we don't and he starts talking again, I'm not sure how much longer I can pretend not to hear things."

Rom'thor is gurgly a bit about something, but he sees the cot coming up and he puts a hand out towards it when his knees run into its edge. To lift overtop of it and eases himself down with his own power if the weyrling leadership will be kind enough to let him do so. "Xanthee is nice enough though. Yes. Zetali has gotten meaner and meaner." Hands sweep up under a pillow and drag it down the cot to catch his head, plopping sideways onto it. "Good night Basileth."

Xanthee seeing that Rom'thor is managing just fine, Xanthee eases her hold on him, only fully letting go when she's sure he's settled. She does smile a little crookedly down at the bluerider with his last before heaving a lofty sigh and settling her hands on her waist. Turning her head to Zetali, she offers a sympathetic grin in the girl's direction. "Well, it could have been a lot worse I suppose," she remarks wit a shrug of her shoulder which wafts a pungent cloud of firestone stink right up her nose causing it to wrinkle in disgust. "Phew! I need to get out of these leathers and take Liowyth to the lake for a scrubbing." She reaches out to her green, who is dozing cozily snuggled up with Odskovith, the Fall having really taken it out of the young green. "Or maybe baths first?" she asks, an eyebrow quirked in invitation to the brownrdier.

Even as Zetali helps to lug Rom'thor towards the cot, she casts Xanthee a bland look as though to say, 'can you believe this nonsense?' It probably doesn't help her case that she isn't half as gentle about it as an actual healer would be. She lets go of him as though he were something foul, spinning away and resting her hands on her hips in slightly more belligerent stance than Xanthee, grumbling under her breath. Eh? "Yeah. Oh, Faranth." Her eyes almost water at the stench of firestone. "Sorry, but you reek, Xan. I guess I probably do, too. Let's bathe, first. I don't think I can smell anything but firestone and…" She pauses to sniff, "—ugh, numbweed. Rom'thor must've gotten it on me. Yeah, let's go. I can have Oddy piece together that disaster as best we can, if you want, but… after we're clean," she adds, dolourously. Very much like a feline, her. Dislikes being unclean. Or reeking of firestone. Scrubbing it off at the soonest possible convenience is usually a priority once she's got her duties taken care of.

"Wow Zetali! Don't hold back or anything," Xanthee replies with a chuckle and a shake of her head, "Baths it is then." Running a hand through raven hair, she cringes at the sweaty lanky feel of it, glad they are headed right to bathe. Looking down at the now dozing Rom'thor, she sighs, "I'll come back before bed to check on him and then in the morning. The Healers say it's going to be a few months before they're both back to fitting fit." Scrubbing at her weary face with her palm she finally turns and starts to trudge back towards the exit. "We'll need to get together with Ja'un too and go over that one. You guys can fill me in on the first half." She's saying as they leave the infirmary and all it's pain behind..for now.

"If you want me to hold back, you're probably better off talking to someone else. I'm too tired and I stink too much to sugar-coat anything." Zetali's bluntness is tempered with a grin. Half a glance is spared toward Rom'thor, but she doesn't look concerned. He's someone else's problem, now. Specifically, a journeyman healer's. "Eh. He'll pull through it." The part she doesn't say is that he's too annoying not to. "Yeah. I'm not sure where he's gone off to, but I can have Oddy holler for Loranduth later, and we can piece the story together. It's pretty much what he said, though. Wind was rough for everyone." Zetali shakes her head, looking weary as she flips her frazzled braid over her shoulder. "Even Oddy was having trouble. I had a couple of close calls. I thought for sure we'd be the ones hurled into a clump of Thread, even with Oddy's size…"

"I'll take brutal honesty from you any day Zetali," Xanthee replies with a sweet smile and even a playfull batting of her eyelashes in the other girl's direction. "And I'm sure Ja'un is just taking care of his own post-Fall duties. A dependable guy that one. I'm sure he'll come looking for us before, we manage to track him down. Let's just hope it's after the Baths," Xan manages with a wink in Zetali's direction as she leads the way. During their bathing, more upbeat discussions will be had, like if Zetali's had any more thoughts on dealing with her little inexperience problem. Soon enough, it's back to their post-Fall duties, the meeting with Ja'un and many more candlemarks will pass before they find their beds.

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