Log: What's Cooking at the Sandbar?
Who: Dulcinea, Kelti, Loe, P'draig, Vladilen, NPCs: Kip
When: Late afternoon/Early evening, 13/7/19
Where: The Sandbar, Ista Weyr
What: People talk, Paddy cooks, Vlad doesn't hurl.
The Sandbar, Ista Weyr(#447RJ)
A series of glows fashioned as torches line the path and ramp into the Sandbar, making the black volcanic sands of the beach glitter as the star-spangled night spreads across the sky above. Standing on stilts over the water's edge with a broad ramp leading up from the beach, the thatch-roofed building sits well above the highest tide line. The walls of the structure are nothing but timber frames, open to the cooling sea breezes but equipped with hinged panels of woven grass that can be lowered during inclement weather. Within, supporting pillars are draped in cast-off nets and shells and myriad tables provide seating with spectacular panoramic views of the ocean, beach, and the bustling activity of the docks to the west. A finely polished, sparkling slab of obsidian serves as the bar and it's smooth surface is etched with decorative carvings of shipfish and flowers and other emblems of the tropical location. Shelves behind the bar are lined with bottles and glasses of various shapes and sizes and hanging in prominent view are slates listing the menu, beverages both alcoholic and not as well as a handful of greasy appetizers provided by the kitchen to the rear of the bar.
The dry winter season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with light, buoyant air. Tonight, the clear sky is alight with stars and a good, stiff breeze cools the Weyr.
"Aren't the appreciative usually... less violent?" Loe's glance flicks to Dulcinea's forearms, since they've been mentioned. "Well, I apologize for the lack of respect anyway. Hopefully he's better behaved when not dealing with whatever brought him to the infirmary. Some people are like animals. They're in pain, they lash out at everyone around them." She's taken to tipping her empty glass this way and that, rocking it in the little puddle it's left on the tabletop. She and Dulcinea sit across from each other at one of the tables by the open wall.
Sandy sandals are knocked on the edge of the flooring, making a dull thunking sound as P'draig comes along the rampway from the beach. He's dressed for Ista's weather, namely, shorts and a button down shirt in lightweight fabrics, shirt-tails flapping in the breeze. He starts whistling as he crosses into the bar, eyes bright. The brownrider's path towards the bar itself takes him past Dulcinea and Loe and he quirks a little salute towards the headwoman. "Presuming to say hello," he says, humor rich in his voice as he passes, apparently not intending to actually stop.
The healer smirks. "I don't think it was *pain*, precisely. Although, you know, come to think of it, I wonder what he would be like in pain." Which, disturbingly, Dulcinea says with the same sort of tone as many young women would say something like, 'I wonder what it would be like to walk with him on the beach at sunset.' But whoever the 'him' in question is, P'draig is obviously not it, since her look up at him is entirely devoid of recognition. "Not much of a presumption, is it? Either you say hello or you don't. Are you saying hello?"
It's the healer's rather dreamy sort of wondering that makes the headwoman lift a brow. But there's hardly time for further comment when someone is presuming to say hello. Dulcinea might find P'draig's greeting odd, but it makes Loe laugh, a bright, entertained chuckle as she smiles over at the arriving brownrider. "I'll allow it," she tells him, playfully lofty as she sits up straighter and tosses her hair over her shoulder.
Dulcinea
All the impossible and fanciful attributes of beauty which the poets apply to their ladies are verified in her; for her hairs are gold, her forehead Elysian fields, her eyebrows rainbows, her eyes suns--wait, no, that's the wrong Dulcinea. Not that this one isn't pretty, but if she is, she is such in a far more earthy way than that. Olive skin, big dark eyes, broad nose, generous lips. Wavy hair the color of good loam soil. Slim waist but hips in excess and just enough bosom to qualify as "ample" without being top-heavy. If the poets bypassed her, it was their loss.
Her level of fashion sense is unfortunately extremely lacking. Every outfit in her closet is probably exactly the same since she's always seen in this exact thing, and inevitably she looks like she's dressed how her mother would have dressed. Not that a long skirt (gray), tunic (white) and sandals (brown) are unusual fare, but everything's cut all wrong for a young woman. The end result is utterly pedestrian, like her concerns are elsewhere.
P'draig winks at Loe as she breaks out laughing. "Good thing, that, I'd be very embarrassed if it wasn't," the brownrider quips further and smiles at Dulcinea. "Bit of a joke, I assumed something about our lovely headwoman here the first time we met formally," he explains to the healer and holds a hand out her way, backing up a half-step to do so. "P'draig, brown Jekzith's. Well met journeywoman. You must be the new healer assigned." With a nod for her knot.
A brief shake of P'draig's hand and Dulcinea smiles all white teeth. "Nice to meet you. That would be me. Dulcinea. If you've heard complaints, well, don't listen to the whiners. Everything is in very good hands." Hers, for example. But then a look back at Loe across the table, picking up the strand of their conversation again: "Don't tell me you never think that sort of thing." Not even the faintest acknowledgment that yes, it could be just her that thinks that way. "Anyway, I guess I have to concede that it's kind of my fault, so I shouldn't complain."
"Dulcinea has come very highly recommended. You should see her credentials." Loe supplies all of this with such a read smile, for P'draig as well as the healer. As for whatever occurred during her first meeting with the brownrider, the headwoman lets it go now, instead cocking a curious brow at Dulcie again. "What sort of thing?" Perhaps she's really just that innocent.
Down at Ista Weyr again a young High Reaches Resident enters the sandbar with a bored expression painting her features. Kelti looks bored and a tad on the disgruntled side as she carries a bag, that seems to big for even her adverage sized frame, over her shoulder. Heading straight for the bar the teenager overs some sort of non-alcoholic beverage the is pink and looks about for a seat to settle herself into. Catching sight of the Istan Headwoman she starts in her direction with purpose in her stride. Though her purpose is quickly quenched as she reagusts the bag on her shoulder for what seems like the hundrenth time.
Firm handshake given, P'draig smiles at Dulcinea again. "Welcome to Ista. I can't say I've heard anything, one way or another besides 'new healer', so lucky there?" The brownrider's hand retreats back to his side. "Always a good thing, having good recommendations," he tells the pair from his standing position by their table. "I have the feeling I walked into a conversation maybe I shouldn't be listening in on," he says next and tilts his head towards the bar. "Can I get you anything? Refills? I'm going on shift to cook for dinner in a little bit."
Vladilen, Vladilen. He looks terrible again today. His eyes are marked with shadows underneath and he just must have been through hell recently. Really, if he hasn't why else would he be so rumpled and frazzled looking. The occupants of the bar are ignored entirely as he stomps along to the stools and drops down heavily. A strong drink is ordered and he spends his first intial minutes there gulping it down. He's like a man who hasn't had water in days. Except he's not drinking water.
At all this business of her credentials, Dulcinea just beams at the brownrider, and then adds to him, "I haven't had anything yet, but you could surprise me. I like surprises." Evidently at some point here, the line has been crossed and she is officially not working anymore. Well, at this hour of day, that's not really a shocker, is it? Except for her. But then, perhaps assuming that of course he's going to suddenly hop-to and run off to acquire things, she says to Loe, "Well, you know." Never mind that Loe just established that she didn't. "I should have bit him back, that's the trouble. But I didn't think of it at the time." No regard whatsoever for who may or may not be listening to the conversation.
Loe lifts her empty glass, handing it ove to P'draig. "Iced tea? Though really I should head back and get dinner. It must be about time now but..." She hesitates, giving this some real consideration. "Yeah, tea please." Apparently she isn't running off just this second. She isn't noticing that girl from the other night either, but the place is getting busy and so one could hardly fault her for it. Besides, Dulcinea is going on about biting people. "Are you... still talking about a patient?" she has to ask. A glance toward the bar, however, has her noticing one disheveled man and Loe puts her hand flat on the table in front of Dulcie to get her attention. "Look. It has emerged from its dark hole in the bowels of the Weyr. And then sun isn't even down yet. I didn't think it was possible." As if she's spotted some mysterious wild animal.
Kelti sits over beside where Loe and the other's are without a sound. Pulling one foot up under her butt she takes the bag off her shoulder and sets it down on the ground with little to no regard for anyone walking. Putting on a smiley face she peeps up, "Hello again." But as Loe starts her nature show speal she squints her eyes and looks around the bar confused. Brushing hair back from her eyes she raises her eyebrow slightly.
Vladilen is still in his own universe, for the most part. When someone bumps into him on his own stool, he hardly even blinks. His fingers just grip the glass in his hand tighter and he lifts it to take another long, gulp. It's finished. Some portion of a mark is tossed onto the counter and he orders another one, beginning the process again. It's on his second drink that he hears Loe's voice from across the Sandbar. He swivels slowly in his seat, looking around for her with his bleary eyes.
As Kelti pushes past him to sit next to Loe, P'draig blinks and shoots the strange girl a surprised look. His hand shifts though to take Loe's glass. "Iced tea, you got it. As for biting patients ... I'll bear that in mind for the next time I need to visit the infirmary," the brownrider states with a grin Dulcinea's way. And whether that's a good thing or a bad, he doesn't say either way. A brief look over his shoulder marks Vladilen's presence, but then Paddy's ambling away to the bar for those refills and to check in with Kip.
"Well, he was a patient. But I think it was mostly an excuse to come on to me, tell you the truth. He wasn't exactly *badly* hurt." Of course, Dulcinea probably thinks that category fits most of the people who walk into the infirmary on any given day. She smirks across the table at Loe and generously includes Kelti in the look, and then watches after P'draig with some interest as he goes before noting the 'it' in question. "That doesn't look like an it to me," she opines. "Unless there's some sort of abnormality going on that I don't know about yet."
"That is Vlad. The man who runs the stores," Loe says more quietly now, particularly since the man in question is looking her way. She flashes him a coy smile, complete with a quick flutter of lashes and a finger-twiddling wave. "Abnormal might not be far off," she adds in at a murmur. But then, Vlad forgotten again, she starts to ask, "So he's one of those... people who thinks he's sick all the time but isn't? Your pat-" It's belated that she turns to Kelti. "You're back. What did you say your brother does?"
Kelti notices the look she gets from P'draig and a ever so slight blush colours her cheeks as she mumbles an apology he probolly won't hear. As Loe adresses her she looks as if she is caught of guard, "He's a journeyman harper...I was just dropping off some stuff and now I'm stuck waiting about again." She stammers out and gives a grin, "So hello again unless this is a private table. I can move to the bar or something." The young woman looks a little nervous as the bar is much busier then she was expecting.
Vladilen's worn out gaze finally focuses on Loe. Her finger-twiddling is watched with a blank stare and he mechanically lifts his arm to wave back at her. Then all her tablemates are watched, scrutinzed by the bleary-eyed drinker from the bar. His behavior would most likely be described as abnormal by any rational person, so Loe isn't too far off. The nearby P'draig is given an sore look before he turns his attention back to the women again.
It only takes a minute or two for Loe's glass to get topped off and P'draig to be handed another, this one shorter and squatter with something brown in it and the whiff of cinnamon scenting the air. The brownrider turns back to the ladies at their table. That sore look of Vlad's is only caught in passing, brows lifted questioningly, but Paddy has a mission, namely getting the pretty blonde her iced tea and so he does. "Here you go, Headwoman, enjoy," he says with a smile and tilts his own drink up for a sip. "Any early orders for dinner for that matter?"
Another critical look at Vladilen--and not even the vaguest of attempts to hide the fact that she's looking--before Dulcinea says, "He looks pretty male to me. All of that androgen evidence all over him." Pause. "I don't think he was a hypochondriac, no. I mean, I had kind of made him bleed a little bit, but he was having some itty bitty allergic reaction and I'm pretty sure after he kissed me he forgot about it entirely. I don't mind," the last almost part of the same thought but directed at Kelti. P'draig's return and the utter lack of surprises gets a wary look but a pass. "No, thank you. I don't usually eat this early. I'm not usually out of work this early." A glance at the exit. "Maybe I ought to go back..." Only she does not show any real indication to get up.
Loe gives one nod to Kelti, just one, and then a shrug. Which seems to mean the girl can stay. After all, she does look so uncomfortable and where would she go? But from across the bar, Vladilen is still looking, or looking again, and so Loe's attention is dragged back to him, a brow cocked in his direction, asking some question of him as her eyes take another pass of his rough appearance. "Obviously he's a guy," she says to Dulcinea. Duh. "You're so literal." And when Loe hears the rest of the story, she has other descriptors too. "I guess you -are- settled in." She recieves her drink with a big smile for P'draig. "I'm famished, actually. I'll eat anything." She's also getting up from her chair, taking the glass with her.
Kelti smiles at the shrug despite the little attention she gets and seems to just settle more into her chair. She pulls the bag closer under it and shots a glance towards the door, "Oh food!" She says happily as the rider mentions it, "What do you serve here?" Her stomach grumbles at the very thought and she blushes lightly again, "Apparently anything will do."
Dulcinea recieves a wave of his hand and Vladilen offers the healer his own lecherous, leery smile. The headwoman next to her gets an even broader once (he knows her, after all), his glass is lifted and he turns around back to his bar. It's remarkable how fast that second drink is taken down into his stomach. Perhaps even more amazing how fast he produces the marks to get a shot of some clear booze.
"All right then," P'draig says with a ready nod for Dulcinea, then waves vaguely towards the chalkboard menu. "That stuff. But I make up ... surprises for people too. Two surprise plates?" questioning looks for Loe and Kelti as he starts to back-walk towards the bar again, likely intending to slip aroudn it and into the kitchen.
"Well, you know, when in Bitra, do as the Bitrans do," says the healer with a rolled shrug of her shoulders. "And, anyway, it wasn't my idea. So, anyway. But then he bit me, you see. Well, later." Dulcinea lets out a little, eensy-weensy entirely melodramatic sigh. "So, you know, I think I ought to have bit him back." There. Does that make sense? Yeah, probably not. The look from Vladilen now gets no notice but the brief flash of a radiant smile, and then the healer's attention is on Kelti. "So you're here from... where was it?" Despite having declined food, she watches P'draig off again. "Now, I wish I was hungry. Pity."
"Never been to Bitra," Loe answers with a smirk, though that knowing light in her eyes says so much more. She gives a quick faux-salute to P'draig, a yes to his offer of mystery food, but after that she's making her own way to the bar, curving this way and that to slip between the gathering crowd until she ends up with her arm moving to slide through the crook of Vlad's elbow. There's something sly caught in her smile. "You look horrible. Rough night?" She tosses her hair and takes a sip of her drink. "You realize the night hasn't started yet, right?"
Kelti nods her head towards the apparent cook and smiles brightly, all traces of her blush gone, "Whatever you want I'm willing to eat I promise." Her attention slips towards the healer at the table and if possible her smile is bigger, "I'm from High Reaches, ma'am." She extends her hand, "Kelti at your service." The other hand brushes stray hairs back behind her ear.
The same Vladilen who hardly moved earlier when someone bumped into him, now nearly jumps at the touch of Loe's arm. And he certainly does look horrible, what with the pasty face and little droplets of sweat around his upper forehead. This is of course all in contrast to the hot flush developing on his cheeks from drinking. "It hasn't started yet?" He then asks hers, eyes unfocused as they swivel to look at the halfwall. "It was previously night. When it was? I was there." Now that it turns out to be just Loe, he relaxes, taking on airs again. "It was... sort of rough."
A little wave from P'draig is the last anyone'll see of him for a bit as he disappears into the kitchen, drink in hand to start taking orders. Shortly the smell of good things cooking joins the scents of a busy oceanside bar. Eventually, a slightly sweatier brownrider turns back up, aproned with two plates balanced on his hands and whistling as he first starts for the table, then course-corrects to find Loe first. "Headwoman-who'll-eat-anything, pan-seared fillet of pinkfish over rivergrains and tropical Istan fruit, white wine glaze," he announces and sets her plate down near where Vlad is sitting. Then it's off to the table where Dulcinea and Kelti still sit with the other plate.
Loe moving off leaves Dulcinea to pay more attention to Kelti, although that might not be considered a good thing. "Not necessarily a good thing to be so open to whatever someone wants to feed you. I mean, you have no idea what a stranger's idea of food safety is. You could end up crumpled in a vomiting heap afterwards." It's no wonder Dulcie isn't hungry, if this is the sort of thing always going through her brain. And, oh, look, there's the guy with the food. "Well, aren't you fancy," said with raised eyebrows.
While Loe was so ready to tease, now that she's standing in front of Vladilen, seeing him all unfocus and unsteady, the humor is fading. Her eyebrow draw seriously as she studies his profile. "No, you really look horrible," she says again, maybe even a little concerned. "What happened?" She spares only a quick glance back to her table, to Dulcinea and Kelti talking, and then is distracted by the quick delivery of a whole meal. "Oh! P'draig, thank you," she says, sounding quite surprised at the quality of what's come out of the bar kitchen. "This looks wonderful." And as the brownrider runs off, she turns back to Vlad. "Have you eaten anything?" Ever?
Kelti ohs as she looks towards the food coming her way. Her stomach rumbles again and she shrugs at Dulcinea, "If you don't trust that sometimes a surprise can be good you'll never get anything good out of life." She smiles trying to look at the plate and her bottom lifts off the chair a little as she does, "Oh if it's the same as she has I'm sure it's a good surprise." Growing teenager and the bottomless pit they all seem to be.
That shot is still sitting in front of him. And so while she's asking him if something happened, he just begins to wave her concern off with his free hand. "Nothing, I just might have eaten the wrong thing. That's all. It was worth it though." Steady, unfocused? Add smiling like an idiot to the list. The shot is scooped up and tossed down sloppily. "Do you want a drink, or is that one there?" He leans forward to look at her other arm and then... P'draig is setting food down in front of her. Too close to him. "Damn." He pokes the edge of the plate closer to her and away from himself.
Kelti's plate is a little different, though there's still rice involved as the base. There's a whole spiderclaw sitting intact on the plate though, bright red after boiling with a little cup of butter sauce for dipping and artfully arranged stalk-greens. "And here we are, whole spiderclaw," Paddy describes for the Reachian girl. "Know how to eat one of these?" he asks with a friendly grin and winks over at Dulcinea. "Used to be a Baker before I Impressed. I've kept up with it and with it being Interval, Kip indulges me and lets me cook. You sure you don't want anything before I get swamped with requests for gooey cheesy fried things?"
"Food," Dulcinea clarifies to Kelti, "is my exception. Unless it's something nobody can spoil. Now, drinks are another story." Only there P'draig is with the food in question, and okay, one might have to admit that it doesn't look likely to be a problem. "No, thanks. Really. Although a drink, perhaps?" There, now asking directly, that may get a good result. "Not to denigrate your work, of course. Artistic. I can appreciate artistry without being especially hungry."
Eaten the wrong thing. Well, that sounds a lot like being ill rather than just the usual self abuse and Loe unhooks her arm quickly enough. "And you you think that will help," she asks, pointing at Vlad's shot glass. "No, I know what will help." She links her arm with his again, snugly this time, trying to keep him from escaping when she takes a fork with a nice big hunk of grilled fruit on it and brings it threateningly close to Vlad's face.
Kelti blinks down at her plate and raises an eyebrow, "It smells delicious but yeah...how do I eat it Sir?" She looks up pleadingly towards the cook/rider. The healer get a raised eyebrow, "I guess you've been sick from food in the past?" She adds after a second, "Can I get you a drink?"
Snugly is nice, snugly is real nice. Grilled fruit when you've eaten some unknown mystery substance and just recently put two drinks and a shot in you? That's not so nice. Hopefully Loe won't look too surprised when Vladilen's unoccupied arm comes to protect his face, smacking at the fork with a rather overuse of force. With any luck it'll just fall to the floor and not fly through the air and accidentally gouge an eye out. Also he goes: "No!" Sort of loudly.
"Better eat that while it's hot," P'draig notes kindly to Kelti, "I'll take care fo the drink." Then he points to the spider claw, conducts a mimed demonstration of how to open it up. "Dip the white meat inside the shell into the butter, enjoy with rice and a bite of the greens. Trust me, heaven on a plate," he notes with a grin then shoots Dulcinea a thumbs up. "You got it. Surprise drink. Though you know, sometimes, it's not all about being /hungry/." And Paddy's off again.
"I've treated enough food poisoning," the healer says to Kelti, "to not need to have had it myself. Do you know what happens to people? They--" Pause. "No, no, that's all right. He can do it." Head jerk at P'draig. Drinks are the sort of thing men are around for. And being patients. And here Dulcinea is not actually working, and somebody has to go and be sick in her general vicinity. Which she's evidently been keeping some of an eye on because, like it or not, it's her job. "Sorry, just a sec," she tells the girl from the Reaches, as she pushes out her chair and goes over to the headwoman and the 'it' from earlier. "No fruit on an upset stomach," she tells Loe, first. Then, to Vladilen: "What'd you eat?" This isn't the friendly-sociable voice. This is the healer's tell-me-now-or-you'll-regret-it voice.
Loe doesn't really mean to feed Vlad and so that fork is quick to dodge when his arm comes up. She's letting him go again, laughing brightly at his loud little freak out. If she can't force him to be sick, what fun is he? She hops up on the stool beside him and starts to eat. "There's a healer over there, you know." She aims her thumb over her shoulder toward Dulcinea. "She'd probably help you out more than a belly full of alcohol. Though I hear she bites." Oh, but then she appears. With a roll of Loe's eyes, she lets Dulcinea take over and goes about putting her dinner away.
It's bad enough that Loe is fake snuggling him in order to feed him gross (in his condition) fruit. But then she's laughing at him. "I hate you, you awful hu-" What? He swivels away from her on his stool to face the bartender. "Another shot of... that stuff you just gave me." He swivels again, still looking awful. But apparently interested in making himself dizzy. But then Dulcinea is there and she seems very, very scary. "What's it to you? You have great lips."
Kelti grins down at the plate and nods her head to the rider/cook, "Thank you so much, it sounds like an interesting dish." She then proceeds to dig into the food and her plate is cleared in record time for clawfish. Soon after the dish is cleared he waves to the bar in general and paying up for the food and drink she slips out after picking up the overly large bag, "Oh to find a green rider." She proclaims and it makes one wonder if her drink really was non-alcoholic.
Behind the bar, P'draig's had a short chat with Kip and it's to the bar that ultimately Dulcinea's drink winds up being delivered rather than the table. The rider pops back into the kitchen as business picks up and it's cheesy greasy bar food that keeps coming out of the galley for a little while. The drink that Dulcinea is presented with is translucent layers of green with an opaque creamy inch of something over the top, pale where the actual colors of the other layers go from jade on through to emerald. "For the lady from our cook," Kip announces with a grin. "Enjoy." Though he's shooting Vlad a look or three before starting in on the man's order. The shot doesn't take long to pour and the keep leans down on one elbow. "If you're going to hurl, Vlad, go over the side, huh?"
"Not unprovoked," Dulcinea is quick to qualify with a flash of smile at Loe, only then her attention is back on Vladilen again because, well, that's her job. "Professional curiosity. And I don't want anybody who thinks I have great lips to end up dead. If it's bacterial, you can have all the shots you want for all I care." If he's scared, that's probably all too sensible. But ooh, then there's a drink, and somehow it doesn't seem in the least odd to her to break right after that question to take it with a nod of thanks, sipping delicately. And then suddenly asking again: "So, what was it?" Another sip. "This is very nice. What's in this?"
Loe makes short work of the meal that P'draig has set before her. She must have been hungry. Of course, it doesn't all get eaten, she leaves a fair bit behind, but what she does consume is gone in an instant. She taps the plate, still swallowing. "That was excellent, P'draig. Really. Very good. Thank you." And then, without caring about Vlad's health turns out, and knowing better than to interrupt Dulcinea while she's working, Loe slips from her stool to collect her slate from the table now abandoned. Then she's off.
Kip is given a smoldering look of his eyes, Dulcinea forgotten for the moment. He seems like he's about ready to form some words in response to that thing about vomiting over the side. But then he's waving his hand again at him. The pasty, pale and sweating thing doesn't seem to getting any better and it's only until he hears the healer again that he acknowledges her existence again. "What? What I ate?" Someone was eating before and he swings around to where Loe had been. She's gone. "Damnit." There's utter frustration there and a certain amount of self-awareness comes back to his eyes. "Damn it." He abandons the shot he was about to drink and begins getting off his stool. Begins is used because he stumbles, grabs the poor and stares wild-eyed at the non-moving floor. "Some... planty things." He mutters finally.
The barkeep answers Dulcinea's question naming a couple of different liquors, all green, one is mint-flavored, another melon. It adds up to refreshing-with-a-kick. Paddy's just set down a plate of onion rings and waves as Loe heads off. "Glad you liked it, see you around headwoman," and then he's eyeing Vladilen just as dubiously as Kip. "Should I grab a bucket?"
"Planty things?" Dulcinea's eyes roll upwards as Vladilen stumbles, but *she's* not going to go picking him up. That's not the sort of thing she does. "What, you've just been picking things and eating them? Well, *that's* idiotic." Insulting the patient, yes. She does that kind of thing. She's still holding onto her drink and sipping. "Are you going to throw up on your own? If you're not going to throw up on your own it's probably going to be necessary to induce and I really don't want to have to go back to the infirmary for an emetic." A nod over to P'draig. "Might not be a bad idea."
Frustrated, "Yes, planty things. Some berries and these dark leaves. Someone told me th-" Did she just call him an /idiot/? Vladilen actually has the nerve to look insulted. He straightens up and points an unsteady finger at her. "I'll show you an idiot." And then? He's actually leaving the bar. For all the stumbling out of the chair that he does, he looks like he might actually make it to wherever he's going. His line is kind of straight. And if there's a thump outside the door of the bar, no one should pay too much heed. Because from outside the halfwalls he can be seen moving quickly (with some stumbles) back to the weyr. Holding his stomach. And his mouth.
P'draig tracks Vladilen out, head shaking back and forth. "Man. Hope he's okay," the brownrider says sincerely and reaches over to pick up Loe's plate, eyeing what she left behind. "Smaller portion for the headwoman next time," he says gaily and sends a little wave Dulcinea's way, ducks back into the kitchen for the rest of his shift.
On the one hand, Dulcinea would probably be a better healer if she went after Vladilen--but on the other hand, she has a nice drink to finish and then work to get back to. So instead, she lingers at the bar over her beverage with a smile, and eventually makes her way back to the infirmary, once it's done, just in case he shows up there. If he doesn't? Well, not her problem.
When: Late afternoon/Early evening, 13/7/19
Where: The Sandbar, Ista Weyr
What: People talk, Paddy cooks, Vlad doesn't hurl.
The Sandbar, Ista Weyr(#447RJ)
A series of glows fashioned as torches line the path and ramp into the Sandbar, making the black volcanic sands of the beach glitter as the star-spangled night spreads across the sky above. Standing on stilts over the water's edge with a broad ramp leading up from the beach, the thatch-roofed building sits well above the highest tide line. The walls of the structure are nothing but timber frames, open to the cooling sea breezes but equipped with hinged panels of woven grass that can be lowered during inclement weather. Within, supporting pillars are draped in cast-off nets and shells and myriad tables provide seating with spectacular panoramic views of the ocean, beach, and the bustling activity of the docks to the west. A finely polished, sparkling slab of obsidian serves as the bar and it's smooth surface is etched with decorative carvings of shipfish and flowers and other emblems of the tropical location. Shelves behind the bar are lined with bottles and glasses of various shapes and sizes and hanging in prominent view are slates listing the menu, beverages both alcoholic and not as well as a handful of greasy appetizers provided by the kitchen to the rear of the bar.
The dry winter season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with light, buoyant air. Tonight, the clear sky is alight with stars and a good, stiff breeze cools the Weyr.
"Aren't the appreciative usually... less violent?" Loe's glance flicks to Dulcinea's forearms, since they've been mentioned. "Well, I apologize for the lack of respect anyway. Hopefully he's better behaved when not dealing with whatever brought him to the infirmary. Some people are like animals. They're in pain, they lash out at everyone around them." She's taken to tipping her empty glass this way and that, rocking it in the little puddle it's left on the tabletop. She and Dulcinea sit across from each other at one of the tables by the open wall.
Sandy sandals are knocked on the edge of the flooring, making a dull thunking sound as P'draig comes along the rampway from the beach. He's dressed for Ista's weather, namely, shorts and a button down shirt in lightweight fabrics, shirt-tails flapping in the breeze. He starts whistling as he crosses into the bar, eyes bright. The brownrider's path towards the bar itself takes him past Dulcinea and Loe and he quirks a little salute towards the headwoman. "Presuming to say hello," he says, humor rich in his voice as he passes, apparently not intending to actually stop.
The healer smirks. "I don't think it was *pain*, precisely. Although, you know, come to think of it, I wonder what he would be like in pain." Which, disturbingly, Dulcinea says with the same sort of tone as many young women would say something like, 'I wonder what it would be like to walk with him on the beach at sunset.' But whoever the 'him' in question is, P'draig is obviously not it, since her look up at him is entirely devoid of recognition. "Not much of a presumption, is it? Either you say hello or you don't. Are you saying hello?"
It's the healer's rather dreamy sort of wondering that makes the headwoman lift a brow. But there's hardly time for further comment when someone is presuming to say hello. Dulcinea might find P'draig's greeting odd, but it makes Loe laugh, a bright, entertained chuckle as she smiles over at the arriving brownrider. "I'll allow it," she tells him, playfully lofty as she sits up straighter and tosses her hair over her shoulder.
Dulcinea
All the impossible and fanciful attributes of beauty which the poets apply to their ladies are verified in her; for her hairs are gold, her forehead Elysian fields, her eyebrows rainbows, her eyes suns--wait, no, that's the wrong Dulcinea. Not that this one isn't pretty, but if she is, she is such in a far more earthy way than that. Olive skin, big dark eyes, broad nose, generous lips. Wavy hair the color of good loam soil. Slim waist but hips in excess and just enough bosom to qualify as "ample" without being top-heavy. If the poets bypassed her, it was their loss.
Her level of fashion sense is unfortunately extremely lacking. Every outfit in her closet is probably exactly the same since she's always seen in this exact thing, and inevitably she looks like she's dressed how her mother would have dressed. Not that a long skirt (gray), tunic (white) and sandals (brown) are unusual fare, but everything's cut all wrong for a young woman. The end result is utterly pedestrian, like her concerns are elsewhere.
P'draig winks at Loe as she breaks out laughing. "Good thing, that, I'd be very embarrassed if it wasn't," the brownrider quips further and smiles at Dulcinea. "Bit of a joke, I assumed something about our lovely headwoman here the first time we met formally," he explains to the healer and holds a hand out her way, backing up a half-step to do so. "P'draig, brown Jekzith's. Well met journeywoman. You must be the new healer assigned." With a nod for her knot.
A brief shake of P'draig's hand and Dulcinea smiles all white teeth. "Nice to meet you. That would be me. Dulcinea. If you've heard complaints, well, don't listen to the whiners. Everything is in very good hands." Hers, for example. But then a look back at Loe across the table, picking up the strand of their conversation again: "Don't tell me you never think that sort of thing." Not even the faintest acknowledgment that yes, it could be just her that thinks that way. "Anyway, I guess I have to concede that it's kind of my fault, so I shouldn't complain."
"Dulcinea has come very highly recommended. You should see her credentials." Loe supplies all of this with such a read smile, for P'draig as well as the healer. As for whatever occurred during her first meeting with the brownrider, the headwoman lets it go now, instead cocking a curious brow at Dulcie again. "What sort of thing?" Perhaps she's really just that innocent.
Down at Ista Weyr again a young High Reaches Resident enters the sandbar with a bored expression painting her features. Kelti looks bored and a tad on the disgruntled side as she carries a bag, that seems to big for even her adverage sized frame, over her shoulder. Heading straight for the bar the teenager overs some sort of non-alcoholic beverage the is pink and looks about for a seat to settle herself into. Catching sight of the Istan Headwoman she starts in her direction with purpose in her stride. Though her purpose is quickly quenched as she reagusts the bag on her shoulder for what seems like the hundrenth time.
Firm handshake given, P'draig smiles at Dulcinea again. "Welcome to Ista. I can't say I've heard anything, one way or another besides 'new healer', so lucky there?" The brownrider's hand retreats back to his side. "Always a good thing, having good recommendations," he tells the pair from his standing position by their table. "I have the feeling I walked into a conversation maybe I shouldn't be listening in on," he says next and tilts his head towards the bar. "Can I get you anything? Refills? I'm going on shift to cook for dinner in a little bit."
Vladilen, Vladilen. He looks terrible again today. His eyes are marked with shadows underneath and he just must have been through hell recently. Really, if he hasn't why else would he be so rumpled and frazzled looking. The occupants of the bar are ignored entirely as he stomps along to the stools and drops down heavily. A strong drink is ordered and he spends his first intial minutes there gulping it down. He's like a man who hasn't had water in days. Except he's not drinking water.
At all this business of her credentials, Dulcinea just beams at the brownrider, and then adds to him, "I haven't had anything yet, but you could surprise me. I like surprises." Evidently at some point here, the line has been crossed and she is officially not working anymore. Well, at this hour of day, that's not really a shocker, is it? Except for her. But then, perhaps assuming that of course he's going to suddenly hop-to and run off to acquire things, she says to Loe, "Well, you know." Never mind that Loe just established that she didn't. "I should have bit him back, that's the trouble. But I didn't think of it at the time." No regard whatsoever for who may or may not be listening to the conversation.
Loe lifts her empty glass, handing it ove to P'draig. "Iced tea? Though really I should head back and get dinner. It must be about time now but..." She hesitates, giving this some real consideration. "Yeah, tea please." Apparently she isn't running off just this second. She isn't noticing that girl from the other night either, but the place is getting busy and so one could hardly fault her for it. Besides, Dulcinea is going on about biting people. "Are you... still talking about a patient?" she has to ask. A glance toward the bar, however, has her noticing one disheveled man and Loe puts her hand flat on the table in front of Dulcie to get her attention. "Look. It has emerged from its dark hole in the bowels of the Weyr. And then sun isn't even down yet. I didn't think it was possible." As if she's spotted some mysterious wild animal.
Kelti sits over beside where Loe and the other's are without a sound. Pulling one foot up under her butt she takes the bag off her shoulder and sets it down on the ground with little to no regard for anyone walking. Putting on a smiley face she peeps up, "Hello again." But as Loe starts her nature show speal she squints her eyes and looks around the bar confused. Brushing hair back from her eyes she raises her eyebrow slightly.
Vladilen is still in his own universe, for the most part. When someone bumps into him on his own stool, he hardly even blinks. His fingers just grip the glass in his hand tighter and he lifts it to take another long, gulp. It's finished. Some portion of a mark is tossed onto the counter and he orders another one, beginning the process again. It's on his second drink that he hears Loe's voice from across the Sandbar. He swivels slowly in his seat, looking around for her with his bleary eyes.
As Kelti pushes past him to sit next to Loe, P'draig blinks and shoots the strange girl a surprised look. His hand shifts though to take Loe's glass. "Iced tea, you got it. As for biting patients ... I'll bear that in mind for the next time I need to visit the infirmary," the brownrider states with a grin Dulcinea's way. And whether that's a good thing or a bad, he doesn't say either way. A brief look over his shoulder marks Vladilen's presence, but then Paddy's ambling away to the bar for those refills and to check in with Kip.
"Well, he was a patient. But I think it was mostly an excuse to come on to me, tell you the truth. He wasn't exactly *badly* hurt." Of course, Dulcinea probably thinks that category fits most of the people who walk into the infirmary on any given day. She smirks across the table at Loe and generously includes Kelti in the look, and then watches after P'draig with some interest as he goes before noting the 'it' in question. "That doesn't look like an it to me," she opines. "Unless there's some sort of abnormality going on that I don't know about yet."
"That is Vlad. The man who runs the stores," Loe says more quietly now, particularly since the man in question is looking her way. She flashes him a coy smile, complete with a quick flutter of lashes and a finger-twiddling wave. "Abnormal might not be far off," she adds in at a murmur. But then, Vlad forgotten again, she starts to ask, "So he's one of those... people who thinks he's sick all the time but isn't? Your pat-" It's belated that she turns to Kelti. "You're back. What did you say your brother does?"
Kelti notices the look she gets from P'draig and a ever so slight blush colours her cheeks as she mumbles an apology he probolly won't hear. As Loe adresses her she looks as if she is caught of guard, "He's a journeyman harper...I was just dropping off some stuff and now I'm stuck waiting about again." She stammers out and gives a grin, "So hello again unless this is a private table. I can move to the bar or something." The young woman looks a little nervous as the bar is much busier then she was expecting.
Vladilen's worn out gaze finally focuses on Loe. Her finger-twiddling is watched with a blank stare and he mechanically lifts his arm to wave back at her. Then all her tablemates are watched, scrutinzed by the bleary-eyed drinker from the bar. His behavior would most likely be described as abnormal by any rational person, so Loe isn't too far off. The nearby P'draig is given an sore look before he turns his attention back to the women again.
It only takes a minute or two for Loe's glass to get topped off and P'draig to be handed another, this one shorter and squatter with something brown in it and the whiff of cinnamon scenting the air. The brownrider turns back to the ladies at their table. That sore look of Vlad's is only caught in passing, brows lifted questioningly, but Paddy has a mission, namely getting the pretty blonde her iced tea and so he does. "Here you go, Headwoman, enjoy," he says with a smile and tilts his own drink up for a sip. "Any early orders for dinner for that matter?"
Another critical look at Vladilen--and not even the vaguest of attempts to hide the fact that she's looking--before Dulcinea says, "He looks pretty male to me. All of that androgen evidence all over him." Pause. "I don't think he was a hypochondriac, no. I mean, I had kind of made him bleed a little bit, but he was having some itty bitty allergic reaction and I'm pretty sure after he kissed me he forgot about it entirely. I don't mind," the last almost part of the same thought but directed at Kelti. P'draig's return and the utter lack of surprises gets a wary look but a pass. "No, thank you. I don't usually eat this early. I'm not usually out of work this early." A glance at the exit. "Maybe I ought to go back..." Only she does not show any real indication to get up.
Loe gives one nod to Kelti, just one, and then a shrug. Which seems to mean the girl can stay. After all, she does look so uncomfortable and where would she go? But from across the bar, Vladilen is still looking, or looking again, and so Loe's attention is dragged back to him, a brow cocked in his direction, asking some question of him as her eyes take another pass of his rough appearance. "Obviously he's a guy," she says to Dulcinea. Duh. "You're so literal." And when Loe hears the rest of the story, she has other descriptors too. "I guess you -are- settled in." She recieves her drink with a big smile for P'draig. "I'm famished, actually. I'll eat anything." She's also getting up from her chair, taking the glass with her.
Kelti smiles at the shrug despite the little attention she gets and seems to just settle more into her chair. She pulls the bag closer under it and shots a glance towards the door, "Oh food!" She says happily as the rider mentions it, "What do you serve here?" Her stomach grumbles at the very thought and she blushes lightly again, "Apparently anything will do."
Dulcinea recieves a wave of his hand and Vladilen offers the healer his own lecherous, leery smile. The headwoman next to her gets an even broader once (he knows her, after all), his glass is lifted and he turns around back to his bar. It's remarkable how fast that second drink is taken down into his stomach. Perhaps even more amazing how fast he produces the marks to get a shot of some clear booze.
"All right then," P'draig says with a ready nod for Dulcinea, then waves vaguely towards the chalkboard menu. "That stuff. But I make up ... surprises for people too. Two surprise plates?" questioning looks for Loe and Kelti as he starts to back-walk towards the bar again, likely intending to slip aroudn it and into the kitchen.
"Well, you know, when in Bitra, do as the Bitrans do," says the healer with a rolled shrug of her shoulders. "And, anyway, it wasn't my idea. So, anyway. But then he bit me, you see. Well, later." Dulcinea lets out a little, eensy-weensy entirely melodramatic sigh. "So, you know, I think I ought to have bit him back." There. Does that make sense? Yeah, probably not. The look from Vladilen now gets no notice but the brief flash of a radiant smile, and then the healer's attention is on Kelti. "So you're here from... where was it?" Despite having declined food, she watches P'draig off again. "Now, I wish I was hungry. Pity."
"Never been to Bitra," Loe answers with a smirk, though that knowing light in her eyes says so much more. She gives a quick faux-salute to P'draig, a yes to his offer of mystery food, but after that she's making her own way to the bar, curving this way and that to slip between the gathering crowd until she ends up with her arm moving to slide through the crook of Vlad's elbow. There's something sly caught in her smile. "You look horrible. Rough night?" She tosses her hair and takes a sip of her drink. "You realize the night hasn't started yet, right?"
Kelti nods her head towards the apparent cook and smiles brightly, all traces of her blush gone, "Whatever you want I'm willing to eat I promise." Her attention slips towards the healer at the table and if possible her smile is bigger, "I'm from High Reaches, ma'am." She extends her hand, "Kelti at your service." The other hand brushes stray hairs back behind her ear.
The same Vladilen who hardly moved earlier when someone bumped into him, now nearly jumps at the touch of Loe's arm. And he certainly does look horrible, what with the pasty face and little droplets of sweat around his upper forehead. This is of course all in contrast to the hot flush developing on his cheeks from drinking. "It hasn't started yet?" He then asks hers, eyes unfocused as they swivel to look at the halfwall. "It was previously night. When it was? I was there." Now that it turns out to be just Loe, he relaxes, taking on airs again. "It was... sort of rough."
A little wave from P'draig is the last anyone'll see of him for a bit as he disappears into the kitchen, drink in hand to start taking orders. Shortly the smell of good things cooking joins the scents of a busy oceanside bar. Eventually, a slightly sweatier brownrider turns back up, aproned with two plates balanced on his hands and whistling as he first starts for the table, then course-corrects to find Loe first. "Headwoman-who'll-eat-anything, pan-seared fillet of pinkfish over rivergrains and tropical Istan fruit, white wine glaze," he announces and sets her plate down near where Vlad is sitting. Then it's off to the table where Dulcinea and Kelti still sit with the other plate.
Loe moving off leaves Dulcinea to pay more attention to Kelti, although that might not be considered a good thing. "Not necessarily a good thing to be so open to whatever someone wants to feed you. I mean, you have no idea what a stranger's idea of food safety is. You could end up crumpled in a vomiting heap afterwards." It's no wonder Dulcie isn't hungry, if this is the sort of thing always going through her brain. And, oh, look, there's the guy with the food. "Well, aren't you fancy," said with raised eyebrows.
While Loe was so ready to tease, now that she's standing in front of Vladilen, seeing him all unfocus and unsteady, the humor is fading. Her eyebrow draw seriously as she studies his profile. "No, you really look horrible," she says again, maybe even a little concerned. "What happened?" She spares only a quick glance back to her table, to Dulcinea and Kelti talking, and then is distracted by the quick delivery of a whole meal. "Oh! P'draig, thank you," she says, sounding quite surprised at the quality of what's come out of the bar kitchen. "This looks wonderful." And as the brownrider runs off, she turns back to Vlad. "Have you eaten anything?" Ever?
Kelti ohs as she looks towards the food coming her way. Her stomach rumbles again and she shrugs at Dulcinea, "If you don't trust that sometimes a surprise can be good you'll never get anything good out of life." She smiles trying to look at the plate and her bottom lifts off the chair a little as she does, "Oh if it's the same as she has I'm sure it's a good surprise." Growing teenager and the bottomless pit they all seem to be.
That shot is still sitting in front of him. And so while she's asking him if something happened, he just begins to wave her concern off with his free hand. "Nothing, I just might have eaten the wrong thing. That's all. It was worth it though." Steady, unfocused? Add smiling like an idiot to the list. The shot is scooped up and tossed down sloppily. "Do you want a drink, or is that one there?" He leans forward to look at her other arm and then... P'draig is setting food down in front of her. Too close to him. "Damn." He pokes the edge of the plate closer to her and away from himself.
Kelti's plate is a little different, though there's still rice involved as the base. There's a whole spiderclaw sitting intact on the plate though, bright red after boiling with a little cup of butter sauce for dipping and artfully arranged stalk-greens. "And here we are, whole spiderclaw," Paddy describes for the Reachian girl. "Know how to eat one of these?" he asks with a friendly grin and winks over at Dulcinea. "Used to be a Baker before I Impressed. I've kept up with it and with it being Interval, Kip indulges me and lets me cook. You sure you don't want anything before I get swamped with requests for gooey cheesy fried things?"
"Food," Dulcinea clarifies to Kelti, "is my exception. Unless it's something nobody can spoil. Now, drinks are another story." Only there P'draig is with the food in question, and okay, one might have to admit that it doesn't look likely to be a problem. "No, thanks. Really. Although a drink, perhaps?" There, now asking directly, that may get a good result. "Not to denigrate your work, of course. Artistic. I can appreciate artistry without being especially hungry."
Eaten the wrong thing. Well, that sounds a lot like being ill rather than just the usual self abuse and Loe unhooks her arm quickly enough. "And you you think that will help," she asks, pointing at Vlad's shot glass. "No, I know what will help." She links her arm with his again, snugly this time, trying to keep him from escaping when she takes a fork with a nice big hunk of grilled fruit on it and brings it threateningly close to Vlad's face.
Kelti blinks down at her plate and raises an eyebrow, "It smells delicious but yeah...how do I eat it Sir?" She looks up pleadingly towards the cook/rider. The healer get a raised eyebrow, "I guess you've been sick from food in the past?" She adds after a second, "Can I get you a drink?"
Snugly is nice, snugly is real nice. Grilled fruit when you've eaten some unknown mystery substance and just recently put two drinks and a shot in you? That's not so nice. Hopefully Loe won't look too surprised when Vladilen's unoccupied arm comes to protect his face, smacking at the fork with a rather overuse of force. With any luck it'll just fall to the floor and not fly through the air and accidentally gouge an eye out. Also he goes: "No!" Sort of loudly.
"Better eat that while it's hot," P'draig notes kindly to Kelti, "I'll take care fo the drink." Then he points to the spider claw, conducts a mimed demonstration of how to open it up. "Dip the white meat inside the shell into the butter, enjoy with rice and a bite of the greens. Trust me, heaven on a plate," he notes with a grin then shoots Dulcinea a thumbs up. "You got it. Surprise drink. Though you know, sometimes, it's not all about being /hungry/." And Paddy's off again.
"I've treated enough food poisoning," the healer says to Kelti, "to not need to have had it myself. Do you know what happens to people? They--" Pause. "No, no, that's all right. He can do it." Head jerk at P'draig. Drinks are the sort of thing men are around for. And being patients. And here Dulcinea is not actually working, and somebody has to go and be sick in her general vicinity. Which she's evidently been keeping some of an eye on because, like it or not, it's her job. "Sorry, just a sec," she tells the girl from the Reaches, as she pushes out her chair and goes over to the headwoman and the 'it' from earlier. "No fruit on an upset stomach," she tells Loe, first. Then, to Vladilen: "What'd you eat?" This isn't the friendly-sociable voice. This is the healer's tell-me-now-or-you'll-regret-it voice.
Loe doesn't really mean to feed Vlad and so that fork is quick to dodge when his arm comes up. She's letting him go again, laughing brightly at his loud little freak out. If she can't force him to be sick, what fun is he? She hops up on the stool beside him and starts to eat. "There's a healer over there, you know." She aims her thumb over her shoulder toward Dulcinea. "She'd probably help you out more than a belly full of alcohol. Though I hear she bites." Oh, but then she appears. With a roll of Loe's eyes, she lets Dulcinea take over and goes about putting her dinner away.
It's bad enough that Loe is fake snuggling him in order to feed him gross (in his condition) fruit. But then she's laughing at him. "I hate you, you awful hu-" What? He swivels away from her on his stool to face the bartender. "Another shot of... that stuff you just gave me." He swivels again, still looking awful. But apparently interested in making himself dizzy. But then Dulcinea is there and she seems very, very scary. "What's it to you? You have great lips."
Kelti grins down at the plate and nods her head to the rider/cook, "Thank you so much, it sounds like an interesting dish." She then proceeds to dig into the food and her plate is cleared in record time for clawfish. Soon after the dish is cleared he waves to the bar in general and paying up for the food and drink she slips out after picking up the overly large bag, "Oh to find a green rider." She proclaims and it makes one wonder if her drink really was non-alcoholic.
Behind the bar, P'draig's had a short chat with Kip and it's to the bar that ultimately Dulcinea's drink winds up being delivered rather than the table. The rider pops back into the kitchen as business picks up and it's cheesy greasy bar food that keeps coming out of the galley for a little while. The drink that Dulcinea is presented with is translucent layers of green with an opaque creamy inch of something over the top, pale where the actual colors of the other layers go from jade on through to emerald. "For the lady from our cook," Kip announces with a grin. "Enjoy." Though he's shooting Vlad a look or three before starting in on the man's order. The shot doesn't take long to pour and the keep leans down on one elbow. "If you're going to hurl, Vlad, go over the side, huh?"
"Not unprovoked," Dulcinea is quick to qualify with a flash of smile at Loe, only then her attention is back on Vladilen again because, well, that's her job. "Professional curiosity. And I don't want anybody who thinks I have great lips to end up dead. If it's bacterial, you can have all the shots you want for all I care." If he's scared, that's probably all too sensible. But ooh, then there's a drink, and somehow it doesn't seem in the least odd to her to break right after that question to take it with a nod of thanks, sipping delicately. And then suddenly asking again: "So, what was it?" Another sip. "This is very nice. What's in this?"
Loe makes short work of the meal that P'draig has set before her. She must have been hungry. Of course, it doesn't all get eaten, she leaves a fair bit behind, but what she does consume is gone in an instant. She taps the plate, still swallowing. "That was excellent, P'draig. Really. Very good. Thank you." And then, without caring about Vlad's health turns out, and knowing better than to interrupt Dulcinea while she's working, Loe slips from her stool to collect her slate from the table now abandoned. Then she's off.
Kip is given a smoldering look of his eyes, Dulcinea forgotten for the moment. He seems like he's about ready to form some words in response to that thing about vomiting over the side. But then he's waving his hand again at him. The pasty, pale and sweating thing doesn't seem to getting any better and it's only until he hears the healer again that he acknowledges her existence again. "What? What I ate?" Someone was eating before and he swings around to where Loe had been. She's gone. "Damnit." There's utter frustration there and a certain amount of self-awareness comes back to his eyes. "Damn it." He abandons the shot he was about to drink and begins getting off his stool. Begins is used because he stumbles, grabs the poor and stares wild-eyed at the non-moving floor. "Some... planty things." He mutters finally.
The barkeep answers Dulcinea's question naming a couple of different liquors, all green, one is mint-flavored, another melon. It adds up to refreshing-with-a-kick. Paddy's just set down a plate of onion rings and waves as Loe heads off. "Glad you liked it, see you around headwoman," and then he's eyeing Vladilen just as dubiously as Kip. "Should I grab a bucket?"
"Planty things?" Dulcinea's eyes roll upwards as Vladilen stumbles, but *she's* not going to go picking him up. That's not the sort of thing she does. "What, you've just been picking things and eating them? Well, *that's* idiotic." Insulting the patient, yes. She does that kind of thing. She's still holding onto her drink and sipping. "Are you going to throw up on your own? If you're not going to throw up on your own it's probably going to be necessary to induce and I really don't want to have to go back to the infirmary for an emetic." A nod over to P'draig. "Might not be a bad idea."
Frustrated, "Yes, planty things. Some berries and these dark leaves. Someone told me th-" Did she just call him an /idiot/? Vladilen actually has the nerve to look insulted. He straightens up and points an unsteady finger at her. "I'll show you an idiot." And then? He's actually leaving the bar. For all the stumbling out of the chair that he does, he looks like he might actually make it to wherever he's going. His line is kind of straight. And if there's a thump outside the door of the bar, no one should pay too much heed. Because from outside the halfwalls he can be seen moving quickly (with some stumbles) back to the weyr. Holding his stomach. And his mouth.
P'draig tracks Vladilen out, head shaking back and forth. "Man. Hope he's okay," the brownrider says sincerely and reaches over to pick up Loe's plate, eyeing what she left behind. "Smaller portion for the headwoman next time," he says gaily and sends a little wave Dulcinea's way, ducks back into the kitchen for the rest of his shift.
On the one hand, Dulcinea would probably be a better healer if she went after Vladilen--but on the other hand, she has a nice drink to finish and then work to get back to. So instead, she lingers at the bar over her beverage with a smile, and eventually makes her way back to the infirmary, once it's done, just in case he shows up there. If he doesn't? Well, not her problem.