On Principle


Jonavan.jpg Indira.jpg

Date: 2010.09.25
Location: EW - Lakeshore
Synopsis: A long and tiring day draws Indira down to the lakeshore where she comes upon the Weyr’s newest addition, Journeyman healer Jonavan, who apparently, has been avoiding her.
Rating: PG13 - Some innuendo
Logger: Indira

As the day begins to diminish, the light lies long across the bowl floor, half of it now in shadow. A man is standing right at the border between shade and pale sun at the lakeshore, having to continually inch a little further away from the shadow's edge. Jonavan otherwise ignores his minor battle with the dusk and stares out at the water.

Most are heading inward to evening meals, done with their duties for the day. Indira on the other hand, knotless, is heading outward at a fast enough clip of bootheels as if to suggest she’s all but running from the end of a very long and tiring day and out into the sanity of not being cooped up within the inner workings of the Weyr. Or it may be, that’s she’s trying to outpace the stocky head of laundry that’s falling further and further in the distance behind her. Once the woman gives up and turns to head back into the Weyr, there’s a rather distinctive heavy sigh of relief from the tousled blonde who takes a moment to just stand there and stare at the ground with hands on hips, taking a moment to calm frayed nerves. Muttering quietly as she pats herself down, “Sharding didn’t bring the sharding whiskey! Sharditall!” Just one ‘shard’ from being a shardfest.

"That's a lot of bad language," observes the man at the shore with a glance behind him, contemplation interrupted and therefore believing it open season on disturbing others as well when it looks like they want to be left alone. "Bad day?" Jonavan doesn't bother with a knot himself but likely thinks he doesn't need it, between the smell of medicinal distillations and the redwort stains that will never fully fade.

Slowly but surely Indira's head lifts, a brow arched up high and Jonavan is fixed with a look, which holds to him for a good long time, giving the man a rather thorough going over making note of the scents and stains he carries with him. And then her chin goes up and a smirk peels out, "Sure you've heard worse…healer." Apparently not too concerned over having potentially upset the man's delicate sensibilities. "Long day," she corrects and then continues on a path that takes her just beyond him before stopping putting back over her shoulder, "You wouldn't happen to have anything to slake a thirst would you?" Which hopefully he'll take for the way it was intended.

Jonavan hardly seems troubled by the attention or the easy identification, shifting another few steps to outpace the shade. "Well you could be drinking on the job." He makes a show of patting his trouser pockets as he says, "Afraid I'm all out. Annoying patient."

That smirk makes another visitation and Indira turns to take a step back toward Jonavan, smoothly disregarding the drinking-on-the-job quip for whatever reason, her head tips to one side, dark eyes slanting over him again, “Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Fleeing that annoying patient then are you?” Deciding for herself this is how he comes to be where he is and why she doesn’t know him.

"Got it in one." Jonavan loosely folds his arms over his chest and, lest he be thought negligent, adds, "Someone else can easily take care of him though. A bit of mosstea and he's as good as new." He tips his face up, gesture accompanying the next remark, a comment on his unfamiliarity. "Thought I'd get some of your famous Southern sun."

Thumbs hook into the edges of her pockets and Indira regards the healer in silence, eyes narrowing lightly, making an assumption, “You ran all the way from up North?” Despite the faint scepticism at play, she appears particularly interested should this be the case. “Got a name, or shall I just stick with, Healer?” a more genuine smile starting to flirt about her mouth.

Jonavan keeps up the banter, straight-faced as he glances at Indira and says, "It was a long haul." He has the smallest of smiles as he appears to seriously consider if a name is necessary. "Depends. If I tell you my name, how are you planning to use it?"

She's not buying the long haul bit, but she'll let him keep it nonetheless and does a fairly good show of offering a sympathetic nod for the supposed distance he's travelled, "Got somewhere to bunk down then?" Because it's her job or…she's just that nice as to be concerned about the wellbeing of a stranger? Hard to tell really. Oh, the ways she could answer his last. Perhaps the sly grin that slips out might give Jonavan hint, although Indira's words are careful to skirt around her thoughts as she gives in feigned airness, "Oh, you know, the usual. Blackmail, bribery…" deliberately trailing off at the end.

"Infirmaries always have a few spare beds when there's not a plague on the loose." Jonavan doesn't seem inclined towards giving straight answers and shoots the woman another sidelong look as he deliberates on the matter of names. Seeing her smile occasions a brow to quirk, though his expression remains the same schooled indifference. "I don't know. Some of that sounds fun, but might come back and bite me in the ass." His tilts from one side to the other as he plays one answer off itself. "On the other hand, that might be fun too."

Indira offers up a slight wrinkling of nose to the idea of bunking down in the infirmary, “Rather you than me,” she quips on that note. If she realizes he’s dodging her questions, she’s not letting on. In fact, if anything, the woman appears to be enjoying the game, a more genuine grins arriving as a brow lifts up and she takes a step in closer to offer in the semblance of a conspiratorial tone, “You do know that you first have to do or say something worthy of blackmail or bribery beforehand don’t you?” Laughter, rich and throaty peals out next, “Then so be it. What can I know about you enough to need to use your name, hmm?”

"Or maybe you just have to find out what those things are." Jonavan leans his upper body forward to make the point. "Well. If you end up desperately needing treatment then you could just ask for the good Healer. Cause I am. Good." He pauses, then another thought springs up. "Or you could go with sexy, if you prefer. I'd answer to that too."

When Jonavan leans his upper body forward, Indira doesn’t shrink away, simply standing her ground and setting an amused look up to the man, “That an invitation or a challenge?” she asks of his opening line. A brow tipples up in further show of amusement and is underlined by a smirk, “And very humble too.” This she gives in response to his being good at his profession. Low laughter follows that and she makes a twirling motion in the air with her finger, “Well now, darlin’. You’d have to do a slow turn around for me so’s I can see if you’re deserving of such a title or not,” a definitely crafty note settling into her tone.

"I'll leave the interpretation up to you." Jonavan side-steps again though he won't be able to much longer; one of the moons has begun to show as the sun goes down. "Humility is bad for you. Leads to repression and manifests as indigestion." He doesn't hold back the smirk this time as Indira twirls her finger, then answers as a man stubborn not to concede, even if it's in his favour. "No thanks, I'm comfortable where I am. You can check me out when I leave though, if you like."

He really shouldn’t leave it up to her, because Indira’s going to take that as an outright challenge. All the side stepping finally has her quipping with amusement lingering still, “You scared of the shadows or something?” Laughter (something she’s done very little of in the last few sevens) once again comes to the fore on the topic of humility, “Oh it does, does it? I shall be sure to remember that.” With a put upon sigh when Jonavan declines doing a twirl for her, she notes, “You’re really no fun at all, you know.” Dark eyes lift skyward as if in contemplation of his offer to watch him leave and then drop down and settle with a mock air of solemnity back onto the healer, “Fine. But you’re going to have to make it worth it to earn the title of Sexy, or I’ll just have to make up a name –for- you.”

Jonavan's humour remains dry and his smile doesn't last long outwardly, though the humour still lingers underneath his pretense of seriousness when he says, "Terrified. Completely, utterly terrified. On top of being boring." Since Indira just called him no fun. The healer considers her deal for a time and settles on, "I don't know you well enough to know what sort of names you might choose. I'm Jonavan."

“Mmhmm,” Indira gives openly sceptical, though still amused, “Something tells me there is very little that terrifies you.” As to his being boring…well, he can’t be that boring given that he’s had the woman almost back to her usual self without even trying too hard. But she’s not about to tell him that. She’ll just conveniently gloss over that part of it all. As ridiculous as it might look on an older woman, she’ll fake a pout for his benefit but it’s ruined by the smirk that keeps threatening to push through, “I was going to go with Ox,” because he’d been stubborn about turning about for her, “but I guess Jonavan will do.” Oh, don’t do the man any favours will you! All pretences fall away however and a slim hand is held out, a smile of warmer proportions offered over, “Well met Jonavan. Indi.” That’s her, in the abbreviated form.

"Oxen don't have my bone structure." Jonavan reaches out to meet her hand with his own, first impressions going over well enough for him to consider her worthy of that gesture. "Indi. Well met. So, Indi, what do you do when you're not hitting up healers for alcohol? You should try fellis, we're more likely to carry that on our persons."

The comment that rises to mind has Indira quite literally biting her tongue, the evidence thereof in the entirely wicked light that flashes in and out of her eyes. Left with nothing to say in response to that first, she presses a surprisingly firm and cool grip to the hand meeting hers before letting her hand slide from his. “I make their lives hell by poking around in their infirmaries,” gives with a crooked grin before adding with a little more sincerity and a dip of head just shy of being facetious, “Eastern Weyr’s Headwoman, at your service.” A low chuckle catches in her throat for the offer of Fellis, “I wanted to get on my ear, not knock myself out entirely.”

If anything else is brought up by the comparison, the Healer shows no sign of it beyond a hint of curiosity for Indira's changing expression. The forthcoming description of who she is prompts a fuller reaction. "Oh shards, so you're the person I'm avoiding," Jonavan exclaims. "Well at least now I know what to look out for next time. I'll post an apprentice at the entrance so I can escape out the back door."

Brows lift in unison and Jonavan is set with a short look of disbelief before she’s shaking her head in wry amusement, “Jays, didn’t realize I was that much of a hard ass that people are now trying to avoid me.” Tipping her head to one side and setting the healer under dark eyed regard once again she asks, “And why is it you’re trying to avoid me, hmm? Or is this where the bit of you being terrified comes in?” Apprentices being posted at entrances earns him a snort, “Too late darlin’, I got your name already, remember?” Sneaky!

"I'm sure there's fifteen million different places to hide in a Weyr," Jonavan answers confidently. He doesn't see anything wrong with having alerted her to his evasion and professed desire to keep on doing it. "Don't worry. I'm just avoiding you on principle. Like you said, you make our lives hell." Here he sports a smile.

Turning slightly away from Jonavan to set her gaze out over the darkening lake surface, Indira draws quiet a moment before commenting in sardonic return, “Aye, seems to be the way of things these days.” People avoiding her, on principle or otherwise. “Thought you’d be here a few days back already,” giving hint to having been told to expect his arrival.

"I meant to stop by but kept having to cure people." Either this is a lie or it's the one about avoidance, and Jonavan isn't offering any clues. His smile and shrug suggest a helpless out-of-my-hands conclusion.

“Mmhm,” there goes that dubious little sound again, “Because you’re that ‘good’ that no other healer could have stepped in for a few moments.” Though she doesn’t sound too disgruntled about the matter. Eyes slip sideways off of the lake surface long enough to catch that helpless shrug coming from Jonavan and lips twitch as if to smile again but never quite make it the full distance, and she puts business into the middle of whatever it is that’s going on in her head, “Come by my office and I’ll see about getting you situated and knotted.” And then she’s taking a step backward. Away from the lake, away from the healer, just the idea of a smile at play before it too departs, “I should be getting back. Paperwork.” She gives a little lamely by way of needing to leave. Now.

"More or less," Jonavan says agreeably. He turns to watch Indira as she goes, interested in her reaction, but doesn't move to interfere. Instead the healer simply nods, this time without pretense and without excuse. "Alright. I'll stop by."

Indira does little but nod at the ‘more or less’ comment, something having been said somewhere in the conversation having stripped her of all former humour. A last look flickered up to Jonavan and then she’s on her way, heedless of being watched departing, or that it was she that was supposed to watch the healer leave. Only once does she look to almost turn her head back over her shoulder, but the action isn’t completed and could merely have been a toss of hair from her face.

Closing Credits Theme Song: Pink - Cuz I Can

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