Immediate Needs

This log is in the hours that follow the explosion in the Council Chambers

It's been time since the actual explosion. Long enough that F'yr's been seen by the healers, long enough for him to go back to work (which MAY be a loose interpretation of what he was told by the healers upon his release, but at least the dusty bronzerider's face (if not his neck) has been cleaned and hair brushed through (but still a different shade than his normal, locks pulled back in a quickly done tail). Now, he's finding Rhodelia. Some people would be proud of him for not abandoning his duties in order to find this, but some people would be prouder that he contrived to get included in his next set of 'most important things to do' a task that would bring him into proximity with the junior weyrwoman he's been on the hunt for. He seizes the right moment (one in which she's not otherwise engaged, one in which she's not hurrying off on her next 'most important thing') and he hooks his arm around her bicep to tug her (unless she's unwilling) to behind a tall stack of crates and into a not-quite-crushing hug. SorryNotSorry, Rhody: hugs are necessary.

Rhodelia has been simultaneously both very busy and nearly impossible to find, a sort of paradox caused by frantic activity and the NEED to be everywhere at once. The Junior has acquired her own layer of dust, not quite as thick as the true first responders but definitely still noticeable even in the light of the glowbasket as she digs through a long forgotten crate of some sort of miners stuff or other. "Why do we have so many sharding headlamps?" That's not what she was looking for at ALL and probably can only be blamed on her own faulty labeling. Just as she's about to slam the lid shut on that box, there's an arm tugging her. She's not quite unwilling, but makes a token effort of shrugging off the pull before she's surrounded by some very familiar arms. "Uhhhhhfffhh!" It's hard to talk when face is in chest so that's as good as it gets for a moment while she clings back. Hugs were clearly necessary for both parties. After a minute, she does move back enough so she can actually see the bronzerider's face, a hand reaching up to check and see if there are any noticeable cuts or bruises from her current vantage point of VERY CLOSE, PROBABLY TOO CLOSE. "The healers cleared you?"

L I S T E N, although they haven't done much in the way of PDA, they're behind some crates now, and there are exceptions to giving a shit for everyone: my office is a few doors down from an explosion is a pretty good one. So though Rhody gets her question out, she's not going to have a long time to check his face which might have a little nick here or a scratch there, but nothing worrisome, but then she's being kissed in a life-affirming kind of way. It's interrupted, however, by a sudden racking cough that shakes the big frame with one arm still around her, though F'yr's turning his head into his shoulder in a hurry, and then his elbow as he leans back to get more distance that he's not coughing in her face. That would be RUDE. When it passes he manages a slightly pained smile - the coughing didn't sound fun. "More or less. They just don't want me breathing in more of the stuff." Clearly, the stores does not have that problem. "They'll check me again in the morning, but they just think my lungs are irritated." Because, you know, a whole wall turned to debris. "It's not good news for R'hyn and Ila'den, but they'll live." One hopes. This is quiet, because this is also a topic that could quickly become terrible rumor. "Are you okay?" This is really more important to him in this moment, and he's bringing up a hand to cup her cheek, to stroke a thumb across her cheekbone as he studies her face.

Well, Rhodelia was willing enough to return that kiss and screw any worries about PDA at least until F'yr breaks it off with coughing. "Sit down!" It's not a suggestion as she's tugging his arm down towards a bench as if that will make him comply. "And I'm guessing since you've escaped from the healers you haven't taken a BREAK." That's judgement, all the judgement in her voice as she scans over her clutchmate looking for any further damage he might be trying to hide. Maybe even a bit of poking at suspicious spots just in case. "Uggggh. Ila'den and R'hyn." It's exasperation tinged with love in that sigh. "Do we need to send someone to tie them down to their cots? Or have they been fellised up?" Because not moving isn't something any of the Weyr's bronzeriders seem able to comply with even if it is healer's orders. "I'm fine!" She reaches up to grasp that hand on cupping her face and gives it a squeeze. "Unlike some people I know… I don't make it a habit of running into danger. Just been rounding up every one and everything that was needed after." Which is exhausting and she sounds it even if she doesn't mention the tiredness.

"I took a break!" F'yr defends, balking at the tug to the bench, but going anyway, such is the depth of his devotion. "I stopped and had some water and dealt with my personal things and checked in with Risa." And she definitely made him sit down, right? For at least as long as it took for her to need to be elsewhere doing something else and he could slip off out of her sight to work. Clearly, his wingmates know him well. "I-" F'yr starts and then closes his mouth. "I think things are probably getting straightened out now, in the infirmary. The healers put them in separate areas." That's really all he needs to say about that, isn't it? Rhodelia can extrapolate the whole thing from there. "Ila wants booze if you want to buy goodwill." Rhody is the expert retainer. Nevermind that the healers probably don't want anyone smuggling in that kind of contraband to the bronzeriders right now. But who knows better: a healer or a bartender?? "You know why I had to go." Into danger. That's quiet, it's firm. The rest can be light, but if they don't have this truth between them, then they really have nothing. There are a couple of people in Xanadu F'yr would readily lay down his life for. Most of them are in his wing at the moment, some of them were in that exploded room. "I'll rest tonight if you will," he tries, knowing surely that at some point Risa will make him rest, while she continues her have-to-stay-mad-to-keep-going stompiness and works longer and harder than would be advisable for any of them, as is her wont.

Rhody just stares back at the now seated bronzerider. Maybe the seat was just a tactic to make stern looking easier since she's still standing and pretty much at eye level. Much more effective than glaring up at someone. "And did you eat? It's been hours." Maybe not an absolute concerning number of hours but long enough that if adrenaline wasn't a thing that folks would probably have needed another meal. She waves off the concern about getting booze into Ila'den. "I'll have Ina send a firelizard in with a flask." COVERT SUPER SECRET MISSION TO GET PAST THOSE DANG HEALERS. ITS COOL. SHE'S DONE THIS BEFORE PROBABLY. But her stern looking can only last so long. She's not as good at sustaining the anger to avoid the feelz as Risa is and so Rhody is sinking onto the bench as well, resting her head on F'yr's shoulder. "I know, but I don't have to like it. For anybody. And definitely not for you. And I don't know about you… but I'm not sure how much is left on my Have To Be Done Tonight list. The Wait for Tomorrow has gotten a lot bigger lately."

It's obvious from the way that F'yr looks away that he does not want to answer this question. Why? Because the mumble, "No, haven't been hungry," is revealing of his mood a little too much for comfort. "I'll make sure I get something to take home with me." WHENEVER THAT ENDS UP BEING. But it sounds reassuring. And honestly, F'yt is probably reassured, too… THAT RHODELIA'S FIRELIZARD ARE GOOD FOR ANYTHING EXCEPT BREAKING HIS HEART. He hasn't forgotten you, you tiny menaces! "I don't like it for anyone, either." F'yr allows with a brief grimace, his arm moving to slip around the goldrider's back, hand resting on her hip. "At some point, the day will end and we'll start a new one, and— you know, another after that. I'm told that's how these things go, regardless of how hard today has been." He turns his head to drop a kiss onto Rhodelia's dusty hair. "Just keep putting one foot in front of the other." He sits there a moment before he sighs, squeezing where his hand rests and then withdrawing. "We should get back to it." It's a little reluctant, but also very dutiful, which F'yr certainly almost always is by habit.

NOTICE, RHODELIA SAID INA WOULD GET THE FIRELIZARDS TO TAKE THE BOOZE TO THE ONE-EYED WEYRLINGMASTER. HER OWN TRAINING OF THEM HAS STILL BEEN NON-EXISTENT AND MENACE STATUS FULLY OCCUPIED. Rhody softly hah-rumps her displeasure with that answer into F'yr's shoulder. "I'm gonna send a kitchen worker to hunt you down with a meatroll. And you better eat it other wise you'll be making her fail at her job and you wouldn't want her boss to get mad at her for something you refused to do." When in doubt, resort to a little emotional blackmail. If he won't eat for himself… do it for the innocent kitchen worker. And there's a sigh as F'yr brings up the whole what they SHOULD be doing, but she slowly stirs back to a sitting position instead of the cling-lean she had been doing. "Alright," Comes the first grumble. She'll do it, but she's not happy getting back to work. "Will you stop by… after? I don't really want to be alone tonight." As much as she loves the barn, it can also be big and dark and scary sometimes and that's especially true on nights when THE ROOM RIGHT NEXT TO YOUR OFFICE JUST EXPLODED WITH FOLKS YOU CARE ABOUT IN THERE.

"Yes, ma'am," F'yr pretends both respect and meekness. His respect for Rhodelia does exist, of course, just not in this context. And good luck to that kitchen worker who can't catch him~~ Nyah-nyah~! But no, he'll probably send that kitchen worker back with word that he wants a takeaway lot as so many are likely requesting tonight. It will help him, really, in the long run, to be found while he's busy, presumably doing more important things than eating. The rest, however, is harder. "I wish I could say yes," is soft. "I can swing by on my way home, Rhody, but I can't stay tonight." There's apology in his tone, but at there doesn't seem to be any lie in them. It may, however, be slightly misleading that he adds, "I don't think Glorioth is going to settle. He's taken it into his head that someone's after Ina and the eggs." And no shifty-eyed foe-villain will be escaping if he can help it!! (Nevermind that he has a bad habit of recognizing actual shifty-eyed foe-villains as friendly, helpful people with nary a shadow in their hearts…)

That faux meekness earns F'yr a gentle punch (more of a brush really) as Rhodelia snickers. And then quickly sobers up as he answers her own question. She nods and begins to chew on her lip. "I should have guessed that… With Glorioth being Glorioth." She's known him since he was shelled after all. With actual EXPLOSIONS to propel his patrols, why wouldn't he be looking for a dastardly foe-villian. "Will it help you any to let him know I'll probably be sleeping out with Inasyth tonight?" It's warm enough, that with enough blankets it'll probably be quite cozy. "So I can keep an eye on her." And not cause she's a great big scaredy cat.

"What do you think?" F'yr returns, wry resignation in the tone. Of course it will not help. But, "I'll come by on my way back to my place. At least get in a hug. Check for chickens." That last might be a little touch of a tease, even if he's maybe a little too sober to make the joke as lighthearted as he wishes it were. It's just not a joking kind of day, alas. But those days will come again. He's getting up then and reaching to pull her up with him. They do need to get back to work. "I'll see you later, okay? Keep breathing." Solid F'yr wisdom there. He'll do the same…. hopefully. Don't mind all those coughs as he walks away.

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