[Log] Sounds Like You
Who: R'uen, Tiriana
When: Day 14, Month 10, Turn 21
Where: Tiriana and R'uen's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
What: Tiriana tells R'uen all about her day visiting the infirmary.
Notes: Backdated.
The days following the meteor shower are stressful, long ones: Tiriana leaves early and comes home late, exhausted from dealing with rubble and reconstructon. The infirmary is still full to bursting, too, on this particular day, and that's where Tiriana has spent her evening. She's late coming home once again, trudging inside and stripping off her coat and scarf mechanically as she heads inside.
R'uen is just done with a bath, cleaning up from his own day work. Now he's all neat and nice-smelling and ready for bed. However, though Tiriana isn't likely to notice, instead of actual heading toward the bedroom, he's sort of just standing and staring blankly at nothing. It takes him a moment to break out of that reverie and lift his gaze to her. "You're home." Brilliant observation that.
Where most times a bright remark like that would earn some sort of sarcastic reply, tonight all Tiriana says is, "Yeah." With her outerwear hung on the hooks by the door, she heads on in, and rather than going straight to the baths or to bed, she flops down gracelessly on the couch, feet pulled up under her. "Went by the infirmary," she says.
His eyebrows dart in seriously. "Are you okay?" he asks, moving forward to pass concerned eyes over her person, hunting for any sign of injury. As nothing stands out, he can only assume something else had her hanging out with healers and that turns his concern into an arched, curious look.
"Me?" That consideration makes Tiriana blink, peering up at R'uen with furrowed brows. "Me, I'm fine. It's them--all them." She blows out an unhappy breath and lets her feet slide down to the floor as she uncurls a bit. "It's still packed. All these people, jammed in there, all sorts of stuff wrong with them. Why's this always happen to us?"
R'uen drops beside her on the couch, reaching to put an arm around her. He looks very much like he'd like to say something, mouth open and ready and everything, but nothing comes out. His steady, dark eyes watch her face.
Tiriana just kind of falls sideways against him, nestling into the crook of his arm. "It's like 'Fall again, except that--that was riders. People who signed up and trained and were /meant/ to do that. This... this is just people. I mean, there's, they've got this six-year-old girl in there all strung up with ropes and pulleys and shit so she can't even get out of bed."
R'uen tugs her a little closed, tightens his arm and turns to press a kiss to her temple, letting his cheek linger there after. "Riders are just people. Anyone can face danger and tragedy, when they're six or eighyt-six." A hand runs down her arm, fingers looking to wrap with hers. "Do they think she'll be all right?"
"Yeah, but they shouldn't have to," Tiriana protests. "Not like this. It was a fucking party and now I have dead people, hurt kids, and no fucking star stones." It's enough to make her pull away from R'uen again, shrugging him off in her disquiet. As for that particular girl, "Don't know. Maybe. It's just a broke leg, but maybe it doesn't heal up straight and then what? --She wants me to come back tomorrow, see her again."
R'uen lets her pull away. "I know," is his quiet answer. "I think it was good that you went to the infirmary. Let them see you, let them see that you care." He doesn't speak of the girl in particular now, just the wounded in general. There's some tension that creeps into his shoulders and eventually makes him stand again. "I wish I could do more to help you."
"I got them ice cream," Tiriana says, though without much real excitement. It's not much, after all. "'Cause Lina wanted some so they got everybody some. The kids were pretty excited, Lina especially. I ended up holding her for a while, becaues that was the only way they'd let her out of bed."
R'uen' tight mouth twists to a smile, or something near it. "Sounds like you had fun," he exhales as he turns away, heading to the table to pour himself a glass of water. He reaches for the pitcher but hesitates. "So you'll have treats for them again tomorrow?"
Tiriana's shoulders lift slightly. "I don't know, maybe. I should," she tells him. "Probably make their day again if I did. But... I don't know. I don't know what they expect me to do. I'm not good with kids. I don't know why they seem to like /me/ then."
"If it'll help, you might as well. Unless you have something more pressing." Again, to ask the unasked question, he turns to look at her with one eyebrow lifted. He still hasn't managed to pour himself anything, even if he does have a glass ready for it.
"Don't /you/ start," Tiriana has a retort at the ready now, as soon as R'uen looks around at her. "I don't get it. I didn't /do/ anything, just... sat there for a while, with her. She kind of reminded me of, well, me. She said I should go kick Browden and Crom in the balls and then they'll leave us alone."
"You spent your time on them. That's something. It's right for them to appreciate it, even if they don't really understand why." Now R'uen reaches for the whiskey, but he pauses again with his hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "Yep, sounds like you," he agrees lightly, his back to her.
"And she wanted to flame people. Maybe I could bring her my flamethrower," she muses, with a small smile for that thought. She settles back into the couch, watching R'uen for a moment as he gets the whiskey. "It was kind of... It wasn't so bad," she admits then, slowly.
"I'm glad," he says, releasing the whiskey bottle without pouring, reaching for the water again and giving up altogether and turning back to the couch, toward the fire as well. "You should leave the flamethrower home, though. It doesn't sound like your new friend needs any encouragement. She does sound like you." Which makes the bronzerider smile to himself.
"Yeah." Tiriana is quiet then, settling in comfortably and watching him, now that she's had a few minutes to recover herself from the day's stressors. "It... got me thinking, a little. I mean, she was cute, and it wasn't really /hard/ or anything, and I mean, I still like boys better than girls, but still. You know." Or maybe he doesn't, after that halting explanation.
"There weren't any little boys that got hurt then? Maybe you can rotate," R'uen suggests. His attention seems to be largely on the low flames, but he does flash her a quick, teasing smile. It would seem, however, that he doesn't now what it is she's trying to explain.
"Well, yeah," admits Tiriana. "Except they didn't quite... latch on, that much. Like that Lina did." She lifts her shoulders faintly, frowns. "/R'uen/." Because he doesn't get it.
R'uen follows enough to shoot a knowing look at Tiriana. "So, if the boys paid more attention, they'd be your favorites, huh?" He shakes his head at her and makes his way to the hearth, taking up the poker to do a little fire-tending. He's really, really, missing her point.
"R'uen!" Tiriana snaps, exasperation in her voice. "Stop playing stupid because I know you know what I mean. I'm trying to say maybe we should, you know. Have one. Soon. Not right /now/. But... soon. Maybe." And suddenly she looks very nervous to have actually put that into words.
It's probably a good thing that R'uen never managed to get himself a drink. He'd probably drop it. Or, if he was in the act of drinking it at the time, it might have dribbled out of his slack mouth. That's the expression he's wearing when Tiriana drops this particular bomb on him at this most unlikely of times: eyes wide, mouth open. He blinks at her in silence for a moment. "Huh?"
"/R'uen/." One more time for good measure, and this time, Tiriana flings a pillow from the couch at his head and gets up. "Never mind, forget it," she says quickly as she heads for the bedroom. "I have to get cleaned up."
R'uen might catch the pillow, but barely. His expression doesn't recover much, though, particularly since she just up to leave before he even has a chance to process. On another night he might follow her, but tonight he just drops the pillow and stands there, staring. Again.
Tiriana hurries away before her mouth can embarrass her further. The bedroom and the bath attached to it are a welcome respite from getting looked at in such a way by her weyrmate. So, in short order, she's sliding out of her clothes and into the bath, sinking down into the warm comfort of the water.