Stealing a Mindhealer

Xanadu Weyr - Infirmary
The infirmary here is intended for human care. It is regularly scrubbed spotless and smells of disinfectant, redwort and other herbs that are - if sometimes strong - preferable to the scents of sickness. Cots are lined up against one wall, with a set of curtains that can be pulled to give some privacy to the occupants of the cots if they so desire. They're mostly used for examinations of patients and the treatment of mild injuries that won't require long term care; near the back are some more private areas with folding dividers.
There's a number of cabinets that stand off against another wall, instruments and medications stored against when they will be needed, and a back room holds those supplies seldom required.
A desk with chair is set just off of the doorway to the caverns, meant for the healer to sit and catch up on record keeping after a long day's work or await patients. If things get too busy, the patients can do the waiting on a set of uncomfortable chairs set nearby. The other doorway comes directly from the clearing, wide enough for a team to carry a stretcher through.

Evening in Xanadu's infirmary can't possibly be its busiest — people have lots of other things to do that are much more interesting — and there hasn't been some kind of big event that would warrant a rush. Or a very recent full moon, which often also warrants a rush. But there IS a family with something like eight young children waiting, the kids getting into various small objects or playing with toys, and then there's Ajral standing in her scrubs with her hair up in an elaborate pinned 'do and her eye makeup running down the sides of her face and her actual expression looking like she's utterly done with wakefulness and humanity, and then a tall man. Who is YELLING at the shorter healer very emphatically. About something to do with nutrients. He keeps railing on her about child care and what does this gangly woman who doesn't even have any kids even know for probably a solid five minutes before the mindhealer, who is not actually a nutritionist but is the one here and it's likely a good thing it's her, raises her voice and cuts through his rant with: "SIR. I AM NOT CALLING YOU A BAD PARENT." Wind: completely knocked from sails. The scene is now frozen with awkward staring.

Cue Risali, who clearly got the memo and is twinning with Ajral, though there are some differences: her hair is pinned in a messy bun at the back of her head and she is not in scrubs, opting for leathers and lighter, short-sleeved fabric on top in lieu of any healer-y affiliation. But she also looks like she's done with wakefulness. And perhaps, as she comes through those doors, humanity. It might be why the Weyrwoman winces as she steps into the midsts of a yelling match, why she pauses with a slow crossing of her arms across her chest to watch — back here, in silence — as the staredown begins and one formidable healer faces off with Unsatisfied By That Answer Patient Number WhoTheHellKnows,PickOne. One, two, three, four and Risali is glancing back at the children before she steps forward to actually interject herself into that debacle, one arm coming between them as if Risali means to insert herself there physically as well. "Sir," comes tired, as if she is on the precipice of her patience and doesn't have the energy to proceed with addressing so ridiculous a grievance. "There are forms for you to fill out, if you have a grievance. Otherwise, I suggest you step back and sit down or leave, because the very next time that I step inside of this infirmary and find you yelling at one of our healers, I will personally see to it that your next sevenday is every bit as miserable as you are making me right now. Do you understand?" SHE WILL STARE HIM DOWN WITH YOU, AJRAL. PERHAPS BY THE POWERS OF TWO VERY SMOLS, THEY WILL CREATE SOMETHING FIERCE.

The only physical change in Ajral at first is that she relaxes very slightly but pretty much everywhere — all those sharp lines become smoother ones when Risali comes to the rescue. While she probably would have gotten out of this situation eventually, having the Weyrwoman come in and essentially school the yelling patient with logic and rules is going to fix it a lot faster and she is a clear combination of appreciative and relieved. Except that no one should really be looking at her, minus possibly a couple of the younger kids: Angry Dad has been really thoroughly TOLD. By some terrifying girls, which should probably be embarrassing because once one gets a glimpse of his knot, that's totally a bronzerider. His slack-jawed stare turns into taking a few steps back from Risali and then nodding while closing his mouth. Ajral turns to give the goldrider an absolutely delighted winning smile and a cheerful, "Thank you, ma'am," before noticing that the patient is definitely trying to leave with his brood and: "Sir, we still need to treat your son — " They may not succeed at that right now, because it looks like escaping is more appealing. None of the boys present look particularly sick, at least.

Risali SEES YOUR KNOT, VILLAIN. And even as the poor Bronzerider With A Brood nods and backs down, Risali stands her ground, watching him despite the fact that Ajral is smiling at her. Risali is not, after all, the most respectable Weyrwoman to grace this side of Pern, and there are certainly more than a few who push at boundaries because of it. THANKFULLY, this man is more intelligent than that. SO AWAY THEY GO, Risali wincing as they flee despite Ajral's words chase them and — "You're welcome," comes soft, as those grey eyes finally pull away from Broody McYelly-Pants over there to focus on the mindhealer instead. "Sorry about that, though." Them leaving, she means, her gaze flickering towards where they've just departed once more before she rubs her palms against her leathers and then crosses her arms back over her chest. "Are you okay, though? Are you sure you don't need me to go back out there and kick his ass? I know it's more work for you, but imagine the satisfaction of getting to smack some bandages unnecessarily hard on his stupid face." Sigh. SHE'S SO GOOD AT THIS WEYRWOMAN THING. But she is smiling, her nose scrunching in a clear sign of playful mischief as she waits for her answer.

Ajral is absolutely the most contrasting person possible when it comes to the whole Respecting Rank thing … normally. Since there was a time when riding bronze alone would be met with a layer of respect from Ajral that now it really isn't, and it's not just because Ki'lian has a bronze. He gets plenty of respect from her. The guy who is not giving his children adequate medical care, even if there's apparently a reason for it that doesn't make him a bad parent? Not deserving of that respect. She sniffs irritably. "No, I'm fine, thank you, and he's — he will have to come back, because the boy has to eat better and I think he does care about that, just decided my explanation meant I was saying it was his fault and so he should assault me in front of his family, right?" There is a little bit of crooked-smile to this statement. Men/. "If //I'm taking a trauma case there's an even bigger problem, though. It would likely land in someone else's lap."

Risali makes a soft noise in her throat — a clear indication that she is present for this conversation, she is listening even if she does not have enough in the way of a medical background to add to it. "Well," Risali breathes, "I will make sure that either way, D'lei gets out a request for him to come back." Because it is, after all, Risali's job to be THE WEYRMOM. And what better way than tattling to the WEYRDAD? "I would certainly hope that they defer to you for those matters." And there's another smile, preceding an exhale as Risali looks around the infirmary and then — "I actually came because I was looking for you. Or, well, I was told there was a report for me to pick up, but I was hoping that I would see you while I was down here." A beat, as Risali moves slow to settle into one of those chairs, looking all at once more exhausted than she had when she was standing, and relieved. "How have you been, Ajral? Is there anything that you need?"

Satisfying outcomes, for Ajral, who rolls forward on her toes and back again. She takes a deep breath in, takes in the infirmary: it is nolonger full of yelling, just the soft din of people actually doing their jobs. No complications. No one demanding her immediate attention for an issue only she can solve — or one that she couldn't even remotely consider solving, because some forget what she can and cannot do. "I'm sure the Weyrleader will be thrilled to hear all about how his riders act in front of young impressionable minds," sh says wryly. "But me? I'm quite well. Was it my report, I can try to find it for you. I think," a smile grows, again, and when she glances back at Risali it's really more friendly than it is respectful; not that it isn't respectful, but there's much more person to it than just duty. "I think you will not be planting large indoor trees here for me, so I cannot blend the gardens with my workplace. If only I could argue that was actually a need."

"There's a thought," Risali says softly, furrowing her brow as if she's trying to envision plants amid the antiseptic smell of the infirmary. "Well, if Leirith burns it down, I promise that I'll add some kind of atrium to the new wards." And BELIEVE ME YOU, Leirith burning the establishment TO THE GROUND is not the least likely probability. Still, Risali smiles right back at Ajral, enjoying the lack of respect in-so-much as it is not disrespect — it's casual. Easy. Risali doesn't have to be the Weyrwoman in this moment, and that — that — is a gift beyond measure. "Actually, unless you handled the abuse report, it's another healer. I'm not really sure who made the report, just that I needed to come and get it." And probably, at the end of it, handle some other, much more serious business. But she clears her throat, as if that might clear away the unpleasantries of what monsters are capable of with their own hands and the right circumstances. "Actually, I was hoping to see you because… I…" A beat, as Risali searches for words and fails. "I know that once a candidate, always a candidate but…" But what, Risali? "Did you see the eggs? Ilyscaeth's and Xermiltoth's, I mean?"

It is such a good thought! There absolutely should be trees! Plants with scents! Make the infirmary into a beautiful hanging garden full of perfection and then Ajral would never, ever have to leave it. Her life would be ideal. This would be the greatest gift anyone could ever give her, and yet … "Having the entire structure burned to teh ground is not really the way I would want to get there," she admits softly, smile still warm despite herself. And: oh. A depressing report. Of course. "As for that, I didn't, but I will know where it is …" She click-clacks her heeled shoes toward a folder on the wall, then turns around halfway through it to actually answer the question: "I peeked, but I haven't drawn them yet." This must be why she's asking, yes?

NOT QUITE. It's why Risali watches her go and then winces when she turns back, when she admits she hasn't had a chance to draw them. There's a soft huff of laughter from Risali — nervous energy dispelled in a sound, as the Weyrwoman gains her feet and holds up her hands. "I can get it, Ajral. I…" She what? Well, now she's digging in one of her pockets and slowly pulling out a white knot. She stills her own movement, brushes fingers over it and then looks up at Ajral with the kind of smile that is apologetic and an attempt at encouragement all at once. "Actually, I was asking if you would stand for us. Again. I know…" A beat, a tremble of her lips as she tries to find the right words and probably fails spectacularly. "I can't promise that what happened last time won't happen again, but." And now Risali is taking a tentative step forward, holding out that knot. "Leirith still sees a lot in you, and she insisted that I find you to ask you if you'd… be willing to face down those badass eggs again." Another huff of laughter. "Her words, not mine."

It's impossible to work in an infimrary and not have fetching tendencies. The instinct to not want others to have to look for things when you already know precisely where they are. The tendency to organize, file, adjust, and then not make the Weyrwoman try to find something when you can find it for her — but if it is genuinely simpler for all involved, Ajral will allow herself to dismiss the idea of being a helpful paper-fetcher. In exchange, a helpful … candidate knot taker. Yes. A be-ringed hand with finely painted navy blue fingernails extends to accept, smile polite but with a layer of genuine in there underneath the emotional and mental collection. "With an offer like that I can't see how anyone could refuse. It's in the phrasing, I think."

"I'm glad at least something is improving," Risali answers, with the kind of tone that says she's aiming for humor, but is too tired to make the mark. "Here I was thinking everybody would keep running for the hills every time Leirith or I showed up on the scene." A beat. "I kind of preferred that, actually." Another muted smile, and then Risali is stepping forward, as if she means to offer some kind of physical gesture (a hug, a pat to the shoulder, a shoulderbump), but she stops just shy of actually doing it. "I'm sorry I can't stay. I wish I had more than congratulations to give you, but…" A gesture, towards those files. "Important business to attend. Still. Congratulations, Ajral. And thank you." And just like that, Risali is moving to find that file, holding it up for Ajral to see when she finds it and smiling in a press of lips that's void humor, and then she's ducking back out of the infirmary. ONWARD, TO WERYLEADING!

"You have given me plenty," Ajral insists, and she seems to be meaning it; she's pleased, though there's none of the wide eyed excitement that may come from others handling similar knots. It's not a huge change for her, anymore, and Xanadu gives her the ability to largely keep her job. It's therefore pretty impossible to complain all that much either, but any justification for refusal — went out the window when the request was relayed by an actual dragon. Especially because Leirith, but any actual dragon would have been met with deference … just probably not also that happy laugh and the endorsement of how convincing she was. "I promise there are always ways to hide, and that I can help you find ways to keep people away when you want them to — if you want them to. Eventually. Good luck," she adds, making a sad little sigh at the file they've met up over — but bounces back just as quickly. She has people to care for who are NOT angry dads!

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