Participants:
| Date: | July 18, 2011 |
|---|---|
| Location: | EW: Infirmary |
| Synopsis: | Rio visits Kaskan and finds out why he's in the infirmary - both the cover story and what really happened. |
| Rating: | PG |
| Logger: | Kaskan |
CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS:
Rio
Large eyes so dark that they are nearly void of any chromatic hue, stare from over a pale ivory veil that shrouds this woman's features, loops around her face and is secured somehow within folds of itself. Her hair, only partially covered, perhaps so that the veil does not look like a bandit's mask, is rich near-black brown. Rio has a fine-boned build, not quite five feet, with delicate hands and nimble fingers, narrow wrists and a small waist — other details are obscured by slightly overlarge, earth-toned clothes: A tan shirt hanging over grey pants which are themselves tucked into black boots. Rio has workman's calluses, and on her right forearm, she wears a brown cloth vanbrace held in position with a thumb-loop to her right hand. Rio wears a Eastern Weyr Junior goldrider's knot. — 20 turns.
Kaskan
Thick wisps of ebony fall in half-hazard lengths to shadow rugged features, over-long layers typically in disarray as they feather pale blue eyes, flare about his ears and tickle the nape of his neck. Full lips precede a square-ish jaw, which often bears a dusky shadow of its own. Scars from too many fights mar what would be a handsome visage, most notably one that splices across his left brow stopping just short of his eye. A slight hitch ends his left ear in an oddly curved shape, though it's usually hidden beneath his hair. Darkly intense, his bearing is defensive and watchful, wiry muscles having filled out to create a solid, sturdy frame. Not overly tall, he is a grounded, immovable rock - just as thickly guarded on the inside as he is thickly muscled on the outside - a deceptive impression that suits him well for the panther quick grace that's displayed when he's on the move. – 20 turns
ROOM DESCRIPTION:
[ Eastern Weyr: Infirmary ]
Long beds and examination tables are placed strategically throughout this room, each having its own set of curtains to give some sembance of privacy when needed. The walls are lined with counters, each housing cabinets containing the necessary items Healers need to do their jobs. A small sink fills the east end of the counter: the one nearest the entrance to the bowl. The entrance is sloped so as not to allow the sun to shine in the patients' faces. At the far west end of the Infirmary, a small darkened tunnel curves around to the larger rooms where the dragonhealers take care of their draconic patients.
LOG:
"Did a dragon sit on these pillows or what?" bellows an angry voice from the back of the cavern. Huffing incredulously Kaskan tries folding the object of his current annoyance over and shoving it hard behind him. "Some infirmary! Can't even provide decent pillows for the infirm!"
Wafting into the main corridor from the exterior, Rio's arrival might only be announced by the quiet murmurs of greeting proffered to the goldrider, by all those who are currently ignoring Kaskan and his pillow troubles. When she stops, it's just about halfway along the infirmary, and evidently to discuss Kaskan's condition with the Healer currently in charge. Quiet voices, as befits the area. Take a hint, Kaskan. But then the veiled woman turns with quick, light step and crosses the rest of the distance to the man. A critical interest taken of his injuries, slows her initial words: "If it was comfortable, you'd want to stay. It's a strategic design, to ensure that there will always be beds open at the infirmary. For the infirm."
Kaskan isn't taking any hints, including the fact that the healer's have taken to avoiding him when possible and the few other patients are occupying cots well away from his. At the sound of a familiar voice, however, his expression changes instantly. Sitting up sharply he cringes at the too swift movement but doesn't lay back down, propping himself on one arm as wide blue eyes soak in the welcome sight of the goldrider. "Rio!" he exclaims, tone nothing like the one used only moments before. "You're back!" Pause, then, "You're back." On the heels of obvious pleasure comes anxious uncertainty. His smile tilts to one side, thick with chagrin. She -would- have to find him in the infirmary before he could get released.
"Yes. Back." There's a short nod to that, but the agreement does little to hide an obvious frown above the woman's veil. "What happened? I hear you were jumped." The rumor is proffered, offered for rebuttal or correction or clarification. "Lay back down on your lousy pillow, Kaskan. I'll pull up a chair." The last, softer, while her vanbraced arm automatically reaches for a nearby stool.
Kaskan watches her closely, blue eyes soaking in every detail of the shifting veils that cloak her petite form. Sometimes he still can't believe he found her again. Stubbornly he remains sitting up, but he does scooch back and give the pillows one more shove to provide a better buffer. "You want the cover story or what really happened?" he asks, knowing full well he's going to tell her both.
"Indeed." Softly. She leans forward at an angle that speaks of acute interest, regard steady and sober. Both her hands tuck themselves into the folds of cloth on Rio's lap, skin hiding under fabric, with the vanbraced forearm on top. So many shields, she wears, though they are supple and subtle. "Please, Kaskan."
Kaskan sighs, reluctant to bare the height of his error to the woman he'd most prefer to impress. As she settles in the chair and leans forward he does the same, reaching out with his good arm to brush fingers gently along her cheek through the veil. "First, come here," he says softly.
No doubt they are watched here. He is a patient. She, despite rank, is a -visitor-. Rio feels the weight of that scrutiny heavily, but no matter how somber the situation, his light touch sends an involuntary shiver through her, momentarily catches her breath in her throat, so that she has to mentally mediate the next quick inhalation. Rio's eyes narrow somewhat, as without a svelt she-dragon's attention shifts toward her rider, "Ah - You." Her hand comes up to catch his, and pull it away and to the bed, where the slight weight of her fingers might hold sway, "Just talk."
Kaskan grumps, tilting his head so that over-long layers fall askew across his face, light blue eyes peering through the ebony strands. "I don't care who sees," he mutters, picking up on her discomfort. Strong fingers thread hers and squeeze lightly. "I'll shout it from the werytop myself if I have to." Lifting her hand he lays a kiss on the back of her hand, then sets it down again with a sigh as he begins. "Alright, stubborn woman, the cover story is that Jhorn went off to meet a girl, I went after him and our runners got spooked by a wild feline. I fell down a ravine and Jhorn's runner bolted with him still on it." Kaskan watches her eyes closely as the story unrolls, trying to judge her reaction.
"Oh. So he's involved too." Yes, Kaskan, you might detect the more-than-hint of disapproval in her voice. The lilt returns, as she cocks her head just slightly and one brow arches, ".Why. was he involved?" This will come out in the 'real' story, yes?
Kaskan groans, realizing how bad things must be looking from her perspective. Outwardly his injuries have been healing nicely but there are a few more permanent scars that will forever tell the tale. His ribs are still wrapped and one arm is in a cast but at least he moves and breathes freely now. Keeping ahold of her hand he jerks his chin to shift those swaying locks and sets to do some more explaining. "I thought he was staying the night with some friends but it turns out the three of them snuck off to Landing and while he was there he was grabbed by some men who used him to bait me." He stops there. Somehow it seems easier in smaller portions. Then again, this -is- Rio.
"These men… They were after .you.? Would they be related to those men that you betrayed, turns — years — back?" Whispery words, earnest. There is a touch of relief betrayed; if people had jumped Kaskan, there was a -slim- chance that these people might be related to her part of their shared history. Will's family or friends… But this sounds much less feasible, now, and Rio nods, her own speck of relief emitted thusly. "How is Jhorn, then? You did retrieve him? Had you no help at Landing?"
Kaskan nods, glancing briefly over her shoulder. No worries there. If anything the rest of the infirmary is relieved for the respite the goldrider's visit creates. Kaskan nods. "They were the ones I told you about. They finally tracked me down through Boll so they knew who Jhorn was too. They planned on bargaining him once… once I was out of the picture." Her questions are sifted, the answers mingling. "Jhorn's good, I think. Physically he had a slight concussion and a sprained ankle so they let him out pretty quick." He pauses. "He doesn't seem to have any other issues from it all." Then a quick nod as he adds, "Oh yes, Max figured out what was happening, thank Faranth, and came with some of his men to help. He's spoken for them all as far as our cover story goes."
"Where is Jhorn now? Has he gone back to Boll?" Congratulations, Weyrlingmaster, that Rio's first questions have to do with the welfare of Boll's noble son, no doubt prompted by Rio's concern for the political status of a Weyr to which renegades already flock. The rest of Kaskan's words register, albeit slower, so that Rio finally repeats, "Max. The stable manager." Silence draws for a few moments, before Rio's other hand joins the first, though with only the commitment of a single finger drawn along Kaskan's wrist. "And the men? Where are they? The ones who jumped you? What dangers remain?"
Kaskan isn't nearly so far-reaching in his scope of concerns, mostly just covering those closest to him. Her pointed questions hit the mark though so he answers them with quickened tone. "Jhorn is here at the weyr. He leaves to attend a few classes and train with Max but otherwise he's usually in here with me." Sneaking in forbidden treats and the latest gossip, of course. He shakes his head slightly, remembering how concern for the mutual future of himself and his ward was quickly absolved by the plan that Jhorn and the beast master, Max, created. Blue gaze drops during the silence, watching the trail of her finger. Shadows deepen within his expression at her last question, lips a straight line as he replies shortly, "Dead."
"Then you are free." Rio returns, after the hesitation of consideration. "You need not run, or hide yourself. Is that correct?" The goldrider shifts slightly, before her fingers squeeze his hands, and she leans back, drawing herself out of his contact. Her regard, black-eyed in the dim light, studies his features. She has no desire to know what happened, how they hid the bodies of men killed at Landing… None of that. "Pity," she murmurs, "They were not the same men after Jaya." Her friend is haunted by her past, seemingly as much as Kaskan and Rio are.
Then the topic is abruptly changed, as Rio rises from the stool. "You fetter yourself here, with your haranging, Kaskan. They will let you go soon enough; there is no point for you to fuss further." A twitch of her lips, at that, before Rio reaches to poke, lightly, the pillow. "Of course, maybe the previous pillows were so comfortable, that people took them with them, when they left. These… They have no worries. Sleep, Kaskan. Heal." A quick step back, then, before Rio turns toward the door, though she continues to watch the man. "Eovarijath bids me to an oiling task." One step, then a dip of her head, "I am… Relieved you will heal, Kaskan."
A huff of exiting breath meets the idea of being free, no relieved agreement to follow as one might expect. The haunting continues in ripples spread among those who should not have suffered - each one a guilty weight on Kaskan's shoulders. Rio is partially correct, however, so to that he agrees, saying, "Run nor hide, correct." Mention of Jaya raises a brow but curiosity is niched in light of his present concern. An echoing grin hovers about his lips as she jokes about his pillow, but quickly melts as she steps away. "Rio…" he starts, confusion drawing a few crinkles about his eyes. Then, "Oh. Her."
She pauses so abruptly, that Rio sways just a touch. Then she steps forth again and travels another few feet before she turns back again. "I will come see you again. Soon. If you are released, sooner, come see me. We have a ledge, now." Being gold, Eovarijath was restricted to one of the ground weyrs; the unwinged populace must have access to her rider.
Another thought parses, is almost spoken, but then with a slight shake of Rio's head, it is dismissed. She looks back and over him once more, before the goldrider turns and walks out with steady, quick steps.
