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Post by glamourie on Jul 11, 2009 5:01:50 GMT -5
A slightly playful grin passed over R’wign’s face as he glanced back at Darya, almost suggestively. Even if he wasn’t paying attention, he would have understood exactly what her eyes roaming over him meant. He wasn’t unobservant though: he noticed the slight twitch in her posture, like he was some kind of creature for sale, but she wasn’t sure he was worth buying. Were he not busy, R’wign probably would have been defiant enough to pose for her, strike a few exaggerated responses until he was sure that she was sold on ‘buying.’ As it was, he was a touch more responsible than that. The phrase ‘good looks’ was more flattering than it probably should have been, and part of him was aware of how silly he was to be almost touched by the playful compliment, but… When he looked in the mirror, he hated what he saw. If someone else didn’t quite agree, that was more than worth a good preen from him. Just because he was excellent at pretending to be excessively vain didn’t mean he appreciated real compliments any less. No matter who they were from… male, female, fire lizard, salamandyr, etc. As long as it wasn’t linked to his mind anyway. Checkoth did not count, nor did the mess of fire lizards who called him Theirs. They loved him unconditionally. Kind of had to, they were stuck with him. Everyone else was fair game though.
His grin was significantly less playful and much more amused at her outburst and he shrugged one shoulder listlessly, as if to brush off her accusation. The glint in his eye was obvious to his entertainment, but the truth was that he hadn’t deliberately waited until he was insulted to set her bone. Funny though the idea was, he was alarmed, and he immediately went to checking over her arm, just to make sure he hadn’t done anything funny to it by accident.
“You’re okay, right? The fellis dose was high enough?” The slight edge of worry to his voice gave him away; smirk or not, he really hadn’t meant to harm her. There was a reason R’wign was easy to hurt: he just refused to defend himself for the most part. He’d fight, in the sense that he could punch, kick, and the like, but when it came to hardcore defense, and willingness to maim, he was lacking. He simply refused to leave anyone injured beyond bruises. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d become a healer to save lives, not take them, and to soothe, rather than cause, pain. Herbalism was his choice of specialization for a reason: it was significantly more catered to ending people’s suffering (without ending their lives, most of the time) than most other branches of healing. He took pride in being gentle, and -- and his ego was dented again. Nothing new.
Since she went right back to needling, he was guessing the answer was yes, the fellis dose was high enough. Nevertheless, R’wign was careful as he attached the splint to her arm, taking great pains to make sure that it stayed straight and in position. He’d have preferred a cast, but a sling would have to do and if she injured it again she’d have to deal with him… again. Lucky her.
Truthfully, he hadn’t ever thought himself fond of children either, but… he was starting to have to be. All things considered, if he was going to be a father he needed to learn to like infants. He was trying. He was. It just took some doing on his part. Since he was uncomfortable with the topic, he dodged it, and hoped that Darya didn’t notice. Maybe she’d blame his distraction on her outburst. He hoped so. Talk of Imp drew a reluctant smile from him and he shrugged one shoulder passively. “Males do funny things when they want attention. I’d know. I am one. But I tend to be backwards,” he admitted, then indicated her arm. “If you’re not in pain, I think this is mostly done. Do you want treatment for the bruises and scuffs from your tumble while you’re here, save time?” His eyebrows raised, and then he leaned forward to whisper suggestively, “Maybe you’ll get your chance to prove being able to handle me. I’m not yet convinced at all…”
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Kisha-Ra
Rider Mo?rya Rider Darya Rider K?fuzzi Rider J?on Handler Vivano Handler Yoalla
Happier'n a pig in mud ABOUT WHERBABIES!
Posts: 1,109
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Post by Kisha-Ra on Jul 23, 2009 14:19:48 GMT -5
Darya snorted and shook her head, amused by R’wign’s apparent concern, though he seemed to be amused by her little outburst as well. ‘I’m sure I’ll live through it.’ She said in a flat tone. ‘That was positively tame compared to some bones I’ve had set. I guess I’m just clumsy.’ Darya had heard of rider’s who reached her age without breaking any bones at all but she didn’t credit it, how could anyone live that long in this place and not fall down or off something hard enough to break something? ‘I think I can probably get by without the kind of fellis dose that lets people hallucinate that the room is filled with talking pies or some such nonsense. I’ve already made quite enough of a prat of myself for today.’ She added. That at least was true, it was probably going to take Darya quite some time to live down this one, she probably hadn’t lived down the last one yet.
Darya fidgeted as the splint went on her arm, she’d half expected R’wign to insist on putting a full cast on it the instant he saw it. Well maybe he knew that any cast worn by Darya would become a soggy mass of rotting plaster within a few days, because somehow she couldn’t keep them dry at all.
Darya rolled her eyes, trust a male to be amused to the lengths other males would go to for a little attention, and never mind that she sometimes admired Imp’s determination. Darya wondered for a moment how R’wign could be considered backwards. He was a born show off, and quite extravagant with it, take that ridiculous get up he’d been wearing at the gather, and his firelizards too. Maybe was sensible around people he liked. Well whatever, Darya was sure she’d never understand men, as it was she barely even understood women.
The suggestion of of having everything else treated did not fill Darya’s heart with joy, it would mean more time in the infirmary, and more time before she could crawl into a hole and not come out again for about a month, or a turn. On the other hand she just knew that if she didn’t get all the bruises and scrapes treated while she was here she’d regret it in the near future.
However before she could reply R’wign leaned forward and whispered in such a tone that Darya just rolled her eyes. ‘You’re probably right.’ She said, putting her head to one side in mock consideration. ‘I should probably go for a real man, one that won’t break when I play with him.’ Darya grinned broadly and gave R’wign a challenging look, then abruptly dropped the whole manner. ‘And I’ll take whatever treatment you have in mind for my poor bruised and scraped …er… everything. I intend to go straight to bed and not get up until it’s a new, less mortifying day, and I just know I’ll end up an entire spectrum of bruise colours.’
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Post by glamourie on Jul 25, 2009 4:31:55 GMT -5
“Human,” R’wign countered; he’d dealt with plenty of people with broken bones. Clumsy didn’t really fit Darya’s description in any case. It really wasn’t her fault that she’d vaulted down the stairs so embarrassingly, it was more to do with her salamandyr, and though it would’ve been fun to tease her mercilessly for it (no one ever said R’wign was nice), he couldn’t justify the behavior at all. In her position he’d have been mortified. It was bad enough that he had so many fire lizards and that his males liked to chase his greens. True, he’d had enough time to adjust to it, but fire lizards were much diluted in comparison to salamandyrs, or so he’d heard. He pitied Darya. He did. Not enough to say it though. Somehow he suspected that Darya was the sort of woman who would take extreme offense at such sentiments being given voice. In her position, he would. “You’re human. We set bones on a regular basis, many much worse than this and I’ll be honest, this broken arm I wouldn’t even qualify as your fault. I don’t believe it counts if it’s because of your salamandyr -- just my opinion though.”
The rest of her antics went ignored as he checked her arm over casually - just to make sure he’d tended to it proper. The last thing he wanted was for it to get jarred worse because of one of his mistakes. Her next words though caught his attention effectively, and R’wign glanced up at Darya with a bemused smile. Break, she said…? Indeed. Obviously she’d never met his weyrmate if she thought he broke easily. After all, Marra’s behavior was often regaled as one of the most unpleasant things to endure. More than once he’d been called a masochist because of his fondness for her. He was very hard to break. If one were to consider logic, it was more likely that he’d break Darya. He was tempted to inquire as to when she had a ‘real man’ last -- but thought the statement unkind. R’wign was determined not to be mean. Teasing, yes, outright mean, no.
“Bruises, yes. Let me get some redwort to clean the scuffs. Mostly I’ll just bandage the open wounds and give you some tea to deal with the pain that will come from your bruising later on. And there will be a lot of them. I expect you’re growing tired of hearing this but you will need to stay off of that arm. Use it for nothing. The more you mess with it, the longer it will take to heal, and the longer it takes to heal, the more you have to put up with this fake-man. I get unpleasant on second and third visits. Ask Lennae.”
R’wign gave an indignant sniff and then turned to stalk away from Darya, back to the cupboards. Redwort in liquid form made an excellent disinfectant, though he was not looking forward to having his hands covered in the red stains that came with it. He pulled out one of the jars that he specifically had prepared (being an herbalist, he took a certain amount of pride in his own work), and then retrieved several small rags to slather it on with. He took several moments to check it over before returning to Darya’s side, an almost bemused smirk coming across his face. “You should be nice to me, you know. I could tell everyone how you got those wounds. I wasn’t going to. I was going to be kind and keep it a secret, but now you’re being mean to me…”
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Kisha-Ra
Rider Mo?rya Rider Darya Rider K?fuzzi Rider J?on Handler Vivano Handler Yoalla
Happier'n a pig in mud ABOUT WHERBABIES!
Posts: 1,109
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Post by Kisha-Ra on Jul 30, 2009 16:22:24 GMT -5
Darya rolled her eyes at the suggestion that she was merely human, obviously R’wign had never seen some of the trouble Darya had managed to get into before, totally salamandyr-less no less. Oh wait, he probably hadn’t, somehow she’d managed to avoid bad luck for a few turns. Well this was probably a sign that it was all coming home to roost now. Any week now she’d have to hole up in her weyr for the next ten turns or more. Okay that last thought was probably a little on the overdramatic side, everyone would probably forget who she was in just a few months if Imp would just stop influencing her to try and molest random people in the corridor. ‘Nope, I was a klutz before Imp entered my life. I’ve just been a lucky one these past few turns.’ Darya shook her head in denial. She couldn’t, in all fairness, blame everything on Imp.
Oh she seemed to have confused him, or something. Darya wasn’t actually quite sure what she could call R’wign’s reaction, she had a sneaking suspicion it was amusement at her expense. Oh well, wouldn’t even be the first case that anyone had suffered today.
Darya sighed and slumped. ‘Oh joy, nasty tea.’ Actually Darya didn’t know for a fact that the tea would be nasty but it tended to be a good bet, most painkillers seemed to be bitter in a totally uncalled for way. Darya had always suspected healers of making them that way on purpose o people wouldn’t want too many. The response to being told not to use her arm (again) was a predictable heartfelt whine. ‘I want you to know I’m only listening because I want to keep the remaining use of my left hand. That and the fact that I don’t want your little queen glaring at me again.’ She grumbled, though in truth the last thing she really felt like doing right now was using her left arm for anything. Except maybe beating her pets to death.
The scent of redwort washed over Darya, promising her that she’d be red as well as black, blue, purple, and green, when these bruises emerged she was going to be whole spectrum of interesting colours. Though she flushed at the thought of everyone knowing how she’d been injured Darya still managed a retort.’I expect that drudge who opened the door is busy telling the whole Weyr. Maybe there should just be a little paper of gossip to pass arpund. So much more convenient than telling everyone.’
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Post by glamourie on Aug 3, 2009 23:59:32 GMT -5
“Klutz or not, I think you’re normal,” R’wign countered smoothly; he wasn’t going to argue the point though. When it came to grace, he was fortunate. Despite his hatred of the creatures, he was often compared to wild felines in terms of his own movements - he didn’t usually trip, stumble or fall, bump things or cause injuries, and he could be very quiet when he wanted to. That thought was pushed aside; rambling thoughts, those were, and nothing that merited being mentioned aloud. No doubt it would sound like bragging and despite being often called conceited, R’wign was not prone to flaunting the things he was good at. He usually just babbled on about how attractive he was and such. The more superficial people viewed him, the less likely they were to have any expectations, after all. (He liked people thinking he was… well, not worth his salt. That way they were constantly impressed when he did something good -- and never disappointed; R’wign couldn’t stand being disappointing.) “But if you want to wallow in a fit of bitter self-loathing and continually insult yourself, by all means, feel free. I think I’ve done enough fluffing of your ego for one day.”
Carefully, R’wign rubbed the end of the rag into the liquid redwort. The liquid stained the cloth red. The healer plunked down on a chair and then drew himself closer to address Darya’s scuffs, leaning forward to carefully brush the fabric over some of the broken skin. The result was a red smear over her flesh, but also on his hands; it would clean off eventually. The redwort mixture was both a cleaning agent and a disinfectant; a time-saver if there ever was one. Still, he had to be careful to avoid causing her pain. Some numbness was caused by the fellis, but -- just the same. Jarring injuries was never good. He kept his mind on his work and carefully doctored up several of the scuffs, working quickly; this was technically ‘apprentice work’ but R’wign didn’t mind, since Darya was his patient. Nothing better to do anyway. No real injuries requiring his skill level floating about for once.
Once he was sure that Darya wasn’t about to bolt away or something equally awkward, R’wign moved to clean some of the worse nicks, his eyebrows raising at the same time. “Actually, it’s not that bad. It’s my own blend. It’s not delicious or anything, but you probably won’t gag on it; you only need one cup to get a couple candle marks of pain relief anyway. But if you’d rather suffer, by all means, be my guest. It makes very little difference to me ultimately.” He meant that. If she didn’t want pain killers, he wouldn’t force it on her - or anyone for that matter. R’wign himself usually avoided them, if it could be helped, in fact… though that was more out of fear of developing addiction than anything else. He knew better than most how dangerous pain relief herbs could be. “It’s your life, after all.”
The mention of Ellie made him smile. R’wign shook his head, and then indicated Darya’s scuffs before pushing back. Smears of red everywhere, but - no more injuries. “Let me get bandages for those. I should warn you, Ellie will be the least of your concerns if you come in here having jarred that worse, and loss of mobility is also minor in comparison to what I’ll do to you. That’s a promise. I’m an herbalist; I can make your life the stuff of nightmares.” How? Well, telling would ruin the surprise. But R’wign had a feeling that Darya was no more eager to have to come in to see him again than he was to see her, and he was sure she’d heed his warnings. After all, it was her who suffered more for it in the long run. He wasn’t the one in pain.
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Kisha-Ra
Rider Mo?rya Rider Darya Rider K?fuzzi Rider J?on Handler Vivano Handler Yoalla
Happier'n a pig in mud ABOUT WHERBABIES!
Posts: 1,109
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Post by Kisha-Ra on Aug 11, 2009 16:49:21 GMT -5
Darya snorted, she wasn’t going to mention some of the other embarrassing incidents of her life, like the first time she fell off Azrath (not that it wasn’t funny looking back on that), or that time, as a child, that she’d needed her sibs to pull her out of the biggest mud puddle ever seen. Hopefully those would never be mentioned again, if only because there were very few people still at the Weyr who would remember them.
Darya laughed at the next comment, not a bitter little laugh or apolite chuckle either, it was Darya’s truly amused laugh. ‘Impossible.’ She declared. ‘I have no ego, it’s all an illusion bestowed on me by being bonded to a pair highly egotistical males.’ If either of said males were paying attention they’d have objected, loudly. Arath would certainly have argued that Darya’s ego surpassed both his and Imp’s. Happily for Darya neither of them were currently paying much attention to what she said.
As she anticipated the redwort left a red smear against her skin and Darya snorted softly in amusement, it would be that the best treatment for minor open wounds was a red liquid. Maybe she could frighten children and delicate ladies in the corridors, or even delicate men. That was an amusing idea, except that the antiseptic smell would give her away, and she could think of three better ways to terrify children anyway, and that was without trying. She smiled slightly at these thoughts but they weren’t really worth mentioning, unless she decided the parents of the Weyr needed torturing at some point, in which case she could give the children nightmares and R’wign could teach them to flick peas.
Darya ignored the faint stinging sensation caused by the redwort, still happily in the grip of narcotics, as she would likely remain for some time. However she remained aware that one dose of fellis wasn’t going to last forever, and a flash of panic at the thought of being deprived of the painkillers she would undoubtedly need to function at full capacity once it did, however she managed a calm response. ‘Well I’m so shocked at the idea of a drinkable tea that I’ll have to take it. I thought they were made absolutely foul on purpose.’ That was true, she had a suspicion it was to discourage taking painkillers needlessly, it was the kind of thing she’d do if she made them. Darya would be the first to admit she had a nasty mind though.
‘Threats are the fallback of the simple minded.’ Darya retorted with a sniff. ‘That’s probably why I like them so much now that I think of it.’ She added after a moment’s thought. ‘Besides I’m sure you’ve noticed how much I hate it in here. I won’t do anything that brings me back sooner, so threats are totally wasted. Save them for someone who won’t leave instead. I already know there’s an evil little creature under my healer’s pretty façade.’ Darya meant every word of that, and dared not speculate what she’d find her food seasoned with if she was back before time. There was no option of cooking for herself either, Darya could burn water.
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Post by glamourie on Aug 16, 2009 16:04:54 GMT -5
“Oh, is it Azrath and Imp that are flirting with me then? My mistake, I thought it was the bluerider,” R’wign retaliated with a wry smirk. He decided he liked Darya. Not that he’d ever seek her out to talk to just for the sake of chatting – he was not the type to seek many people out – but she was nice enough; tolerable company, really. He could think of worse people to be talking to. Besides that, she was being a relatively good patient all things considered. He’d dealt with far worse. At least she wasn’t throwing things, and she was letting him do his job. As long as she didn’t turn back up again in a few days with her arm worsened because she failed to listen, they’d remain on good terms… though he wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that his opinion meant anything to Darya. After all, he was just a healer, and not even one that she associated with much. Still, he liked the resolution – he preferred working with people that he liked over people who made him so angry that he wanted to break things. It was a personal preference.
He was half-tempted to point out that all teas were drinkable when doctored suitably – most were even quite nice tasting with some sugar added. The ones that were the nastiest were the ones with the most potent effects, because medicinal tea usually focused less on flavor and more on the intended purpose. Darya probably knew that. She was technically right in the sense that medicinal teas were intentionally bad-tasting, but that was because anything that improved the flavor generally resulted in the effects diminishing to the point of being close to useless. Most healers (himself included) didn’t care enough about the taste to be willing to sacrifice the effects. The tea he was giving Darya was diluted intentionally, to reduce any addictive properties that the pain killers in it might have held. He wasn’t without ulterior motives.
“That wasn’t a threat, bluerider, that was a promise. A threat would be telling you that I have enough herbal concoctions in here that I could easily make you be experiencing the effects of food poisoning for the next three weeks, should you offend me, or perhaps the very real statement that I have a kind of tea that actually improves fertility – those are threats.” R’wign held up the bandages as he spoke, to make sure that Darya could see that he was doing, and then placed small amounts of gauze against some of the worse scuffs. He was good at talking and working at the same time. Call it a gift; he was blessed with the ability to multitask. “This is just an advisory so that you don’t end up having to deal with me again. I can’t imagine my presence is really so appealing, but next time you might end up with a far less pretty healer. I’ll see to it that it’s someone like Savitri if you show up again, having jarred these injuries worse, let me tell you. And she’s prone to mothering everyone. She’ll fuss at you, she will. So be grateful and heed my warnings.”
Winding the bandages around her arm, R’wign tied it off securely and gestured vaguely to the fabric. “There. Those can come off tomorrow. You’re lucky that I believe you – you don’t usually come in here as a hypochondriac, as far as I know. Anyway, the bandages need to stay dry, you can take it off tomorrow or get your salamandyr to help you, I’ll get Ellie to talk to him about behaving until your arm is healed, and your healer’s evil side is now going to go acquire lunch. Do try not to get hurt again – as much as I’ve enjoyed this banter, I don’t particularly like seeing people injured. You can leave now… try to preserve some of your dignity. If I find a drudge strung up by her toes, I’ll know who’s at fault.”
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