CHOMP

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Infirmary
This long, rectangular cavern smells faintly of antiseptic and strongly of pleasant medicinal herbs. The general atmosphere is one of bustling but orderly quiet and strict cleanliness. The back of the room is dominated by a small hearth for heat and medicinal preparations and by swinging double doors that lead to a small DragonHealing bay, an emergency surgery for human patients, the main storage, and the staff area where Healers can eat, shower, change, and the like during their longer shifts. The front of the room is a waiting and reception area where patients and staff can check in to receive treatment and begin work, respectively. The east wall of the room features examination, birthing, recovery and outpatient treatment rooms while the opposite wall is curtained off to provide privacy and bed-space for patients requiring overnight care.


The day draws to a close over Half Moon Bay's Weyr, and few are still out and about. The infirmary in particular is quiet, with one sleeping rider with a leg propped up in the far corner. Wrapping up her off-day's work in the Infirmary is one candidate not looking to get caught out after lights out — Citayzleat, ruffling the curly hair of one of the newest apprentices. "You'll do fine, Pyzel. Journeyman Wushari is here. Ask her to show you how to properly apply a compression bangage on Ni'kah's leg. You can practice on the dummy." She pats the boy's shoulder, and bustles off back across the infirmary to pause by a supply cabinet. One last check of the readily-available supplies isn't going to make her late, but it might keep some emergency later well stocked for any eventuality, so Cita does her due diligence, meticulously counting every neat stack.

The last time Citayzleat saw J'en he was freshly scarred physically and emotionally from his breakup with his former weyrmate, so it may be eyeroll worthy that the Archipelago Wingleader appears in the infirmary again even more banged up. Lashes lowered half over golden eyes, expression utterly blank, dried blood looped around the front of his neck and completely torn up knuckles on his left hand as if he had been repeatedly punching something with force. Looks as if whatever battle he'd fought, this one he'd actually won. After all, he was still standing. Upon spotting Cita, the level of his gaze remains there, and his chin lifts in greeting the second she lays eyes on him. "…'ey. Ya got time to fix this shit up before curfew?" A candidate knot stuck out like a beacon of light or something, or maybe he'd heard the good news from one of the two other bronzeriders in her life that made it more…interesting.

Wrapping up her count, Cita hums contentedly, scribbling something on the log sheet next to the cupboard. "Need more wraps, Zel." The candidate calls quietly, and the boy with his nose in a book glances up, nodding. Only when he's scurried off does the healer turn, grabbing her own books — and pausing, squinting warily at the approaching figure. "For Faranth's sake, Jae." Hissed quietly enough that it doesn't carry, Cita shuffles over, clucking and worrying at the various wounds without much preamble. "Did you win a fight with a wall?" She might be glaring, but theoretically it's a loving kind of glaring. Or at least worried. "Yeah, I've got time still. Shells, man. Sit down, I'll go get a tray. Any other cuts?" The last trails behind her as the journeyman moves off, collecting supplies from the cabinet on a tray.

There is patience, the newest addition to the young bronzerider's arsenal, and he keeps a tight hold of it while the healer-candidate goes about her business. Mildly his eyes drift to the apprentice under her gentle command, watching him disinterestedly just to pass the time, attention returned to Citayzleat as she hisses. Sure, he couldn't make out exactly what she was saying, but it likely wasn't all that difficult to assume she was softly cursing his name. J'en snorts, letting her fuss over his hand and try to gain a peak at his neck from her disadvantageous height, "Door and no, lost that one." he replies flatly, exhaling in what might have been a sigh, but there was a severe lack of effort behind it. He nods once for her willingness to spend her last few moments of freedom from the candidate barracks cleaning up the mess that was all of him, moving off at the same time as she, but in his case it was to seek one of the empty beds. Of note, he lowers himself most gingerly down, rather then plopping himself as usual. Just as carefully he removes his jacket, "Yeah, back of mah neck." Jae's voice softer now, he turns his body so that the right side of him was the half directed towards the wall. His neck? Someone of the adultish variety had very recently, as in the last half hour or so, bitten him so deeply on his nape that blood had freely flowed and still oozed a bit. Considering the path the dried stuff, he wasn't standing or even sitting upright when it occurred, but rather… "A particularly persistent and overzealous pest, decided to take a bite outta meh for 'imself."

Citayzleat is, herself, not a bastion of patience — considerably less for those falling under her esteem than otherwise, which might be why those little pots clatter a little loudly on the tray. The healer doesn't actually shout or raise a fuss, though, except to toss an exasperated look over her shoulder at the rider. "Oh, just a door? Can't imagine why you didn't win that one." Deadpan, Cita huffs, approaching the cot with her tray of supplies. She likely sees the gingerness, as her expression tilts downwards from deadpan and back into concern. Opening a few of the glass jars while the rider takes off his jacket, Cita waits, humming sympathetically under her breath. That much leeway, at least, seems to be offered — it extends, too, to a hiss as his neck becomes more visible. "Faranth's tailfork, man." The healer whispers, huffing. No deadpan here; her eyebrows are doing dangerous things, and her posture is a little stiff as she gestures for him to move a little for better access. "I'll clean that first. It looks like they sharding kept some of you with them, too. There's a line between safe and not safe, Jae." The last is gentler, but stern, as she takes a bit of gauze and diluted redwort and gets to work on the cleaning of the bite mark. It takes a long beat, but Cita eventually defrosts — enough to glare with what might be closer to amusement, arch. "Did you win this one, at least?"

The loudness with which supplies and such are gathered gains no comment from J'en, rather seeming more inclined to sit there quietly, as if he suspected otherwise might spell his undoing. This is exactly what he's doing when Citayzleat looks over at him so exasperatedly, a stony example of the utmost calm, boarding on apathetic. A few slowly blinks is all her statement elicits, merely following her progressing towards him until she disappears out of view, allowing him to miss the interplay of emotion that ripples across her face, after all that preparation and sympathetic thrumming. Neither does he have much to say of her more audible of hissed comments, keeping his head forward facing, but adjusts his position as she has bidden. "Ain't like I asked 'im to do it," he dryly states, sharply inhaling with a hiss himself past his clenched teeth with the first touch of the redwort, his battered hand forming a fist so tight his entire arm trembles. "…fuck…" His frame locks stiffly in order to remain still, shoulders tense, and it takes him almost twice as long to reply to Cita as she had taken to ask. His answer comes in the the form of a strained snort that might have been a laugh were he not in excruciating pain just then.

Cita's movements are gentle, but the redwort still probably The Worst; she doesn't croon or tut, but the healer is careful, as careful as a thorough cleaning can be. "Well, if you like, I can have him sent to the 'Hall for some therapy. Master Hulanthe has a particularly effective class about sexual habits and safety." The healer grumbles, exchanging a dirtied piece of gauze for another and starting a repeat of the cleaning on the biggest bite — "Better safe than sorry. Especially with this being so deep." She explains, using her free hand to grab the cot's pillow and set it in Jae's lap. Better to maul the pillow than his own palms, perhaps. It takes a moment to finish cleaning the bite out for the second time, but eventually Cita seems satisfied with her handiwork and steps back, making a quick beeline for an office. She's back in a flash, a dose of fellis in hand; this, she hands to the bronzerider. "Drink up. I'm going to clean these others, then your knuckles. Wushari's fixing a poultice for this big one; it's not something to mess around with. You'll need to come back in tomorrow morning and night for cleaning and re-applying, but it shouldn't need it longer than that." Cita keeps talking as she cleans the rest of the bite-marks, accumulating quite a pile of used gauze.

The redwort was the worst, no matter how careful the healer is, making any other vocalizations that Jae might have for Cita constrained to sounds equal to his discomfort along with some colorful use of language. This is a continued trend throughout the cleaning process, making use of the pillow she's given him to stuff his face into for some louder yet muffled versions of the same. He all but groans in relief when she gives him the brief reprieve of walking away to get him something for the pain, something that he takes from her without question and downs immediately. "I'll give 'im all the therapy 'e's ever gunna need," he growls dangerously now that he can actually make words other than curses and such, muttering something afterwards that is impossible to make out, lucky for the person responsible for this whole situation. "Gunna take great pleasure in tenderizin' that smug face of 'is." One would suppose that the bronzerider was not speaking of sexual healing then. Ahem. J'en makes a soft 'che' sound against the back of his teeth, holding just as still as he had before when Citayzleat gets to the matching bite marks he had around his neck and shoulders which had not broken the skin, but were no less indentations or angry red. Those he didn't appear to mind at all, it was the central one that would permanently mark him for the rest of his life had his ire up. Though, something in his behavior suggests that the seed of his irritation may be deeper planted than the evenings sexcapades had resulted in. "Yeah, okay." Grumble. Grumble. Mutter.

Cita tuts under her breath, puffing air out of her nose in a little sigh. "That seems counterproductive to me, Jae." She points out, somewhere between stern and exasperated. "Your knuckles are going to ache before you're thirty, you put too much more abuse on them." The healer's chiding seems more absentminded than annoyed — it likely doesn't even occur to her not to scold. With the redwort solution dry, she finishes with a careful pass with clean water, taking as much of the solution off of the wounds as she can to prepare it for numbweed. "Although…I'm more of a mind that several lengthy sessions with master Hulanthe might be less pleasant than a tenderized face. The man's more tenacious than a sharding hunting terrier on a scent." She mutters, amused, as she picks up the final pot. "I can put numbweed around the big one, but the poultice needs to be inside of it. It should still help, though." The journeyman keeps up her patter, nodding once when an older healer appears with a ceramic mortar and pestle filled with pungent green-brown goop. Yum. She ignores that for the moment, dabbing more gauze in the numbweed and applying it in a thin layer over the angry welps and knuckles. There's a beat of silence as she finishes that task, then finally scrubs her hands with more of the redwort. Gathering the poultice up with one hand, applying a thin layer of gauze over the biggest bite with the other, Cita moves with care to dress the worst of the wounds. "This should help with the scarring, too, as well as keeping off infection. If you come in over lunch tomorrow as well, we can reapply it three times tomorrow. Two will be fine, but three is best. Tell me if you need more fellis?"

"Does it?" J'en grumps, all his patience and calm having left the infirmary completely, perhaps for a mug of klah while he sorts out what exactly he plans to do about the biter. Another snort, most unamused, then more of his growled muttering. "Guess that means I got over a decade of face poundin' to look forward to before that 'appens." Translation: worth it. The bronzerider doesn't extend any of his grumblings towards Citayzleat, she was only trying to help him, even if it was blatantly obvious that he was taking only half of what she was saying to heart. The half that was oriented around her healing work, rather than her suggestion that he send his aggressively enthusiastic bedmate to see Master Hulanthe. Growl. "I'll take it under consideration." No he won't, stubborn bastard. A glance is finally spared over his shoulder towards Cita when she goes back to talking about the medical care he was about to receive, lashes lowering again, but saying very little. He was a computer crafter and the son of a harper, he had no idea which of the foul smelling applications were which, but because the fellis was starting to kick in some of the tension in his shoulders was easing. "Do what ya gutta do, Cita." He's handled it all fairly well up to this point, giving her full access again without resistance, somewhat less reactive as she goes about the rest of her tasks save for a twitch or hiss now and again. As for scarring? Well, she'd be able to see at least some of the pale streaks of scar tissue that his tank top and his tree tattoo didn't cover, much older than the rest and they might even extend over the entirety of his back considering where they peek out beneath their covering. Either they were the echoes of the finest knife wounds on Pern, or what remained of countless lashings. "Another scar ain't gutta matter much," he says, softer, sounding far away. Though, he manages a nod for the offer of more fellis if he needed it.

Citayzleat doesn't seem to notice any absence of patience — she keeps up her pace either way, slow and careful. "That's one way to look at it." The healer snarks, a little sharp, but there's no malice. Maybe a little less patience on her end, too, but that could just be worry. Knowing Cita, that's the root of it, as she frowns over the biggest wound ominously. "You could maybe try talking things through." Dry as old bones, she continues, dogged and stubborn. Not likely to let up on that one any time soon, Cita. "I find it generally more effective than physical violence." We'll just skate right by her own preferred way of getting her flock to behave, the good old threat of it. Totally not the same, right? Not the same at all, no. She snorts indelicately at his growled, purely theoretical acquiescence — but though her hand hovers to thump, she doesn't actually, instead returns to carefully smoothing poultice onto the gauze. Old scars or no, the healer looks intent on minimizing any from here on, ensuring the poultice covers the entirety of the inflamed skin's area. She's quiet, but tactfully quiet on the subject of the older scars, the only indication that she's aware of them a slight gentling of her tone when she speaks next. "Sure it does. They're not just cosmetic, you know. If scarring is deep enough, it can cause a myriad of other problems." Of which he may or may not know, but the healer finishes up the poultice with another layer of gauze on a long silence as she tapes the whole thing up, careful to avoid other welts. "I'm glad you came in quickly, though. Bite infections can be nasty."

J'en snorts again, extending a hand in an agitated 'well duh, yeah' sort of gesture that demanded some abrupt isolated movements of his arm and head which makes him wince. Ow. He accepts her snark, no matter how sharp, as well as her dissipating patience. He had earned it with each new injury through a questionable decision making process. "Tried talkin', threatenin', swearin', cursin'…even tellin' 'im that I wasn't interested. That I ain't even capable of those kinda feelin's." Obviously that hadn't worked considering he was now exhibit A. "No matter what comes outta mah mouth, 'e just keeps comin' at meh. Fucker wore meh down, and then 'e fuckin' bit meh. Like he was layin' claim or somethin'." Cue more growling and cursing under his breath, flickering his eyes over his shoulder at Citayzleat. "About the only thin' I ain't tried is beatin' the shit outta 'im, and believe meh…it's temptin'." Especially now, no doubt. Grumbling then ensues, looking forward again, thus missing the woman's lifting hand and restrained desire to smack him a good one perhaps upside the head. Faranth knows he's probably more than earned it, what with his pension to show up all nonchalantly with some injury or another without any regard for his personal safety. He'll be the death of you Cita, you should still totally do it. Instead, he mutters darkly under his breath as he's tended to, undoubtedly unhatching plans to erase the biter off the face of Pern or something of the kind. J'en might even be ignoring her completely as she quietly reprimands, though at some point he's dropped his chin into the palm of his hand and was watching her as best he could out of the corner of his eye. "I'm aware." he says, softer at least and likely born out of some sense that being entirely sarcastic with the healer-candidate might lose him a limb or some other vital part of his anatomy. Jae lets her work though, staring off at the all but empty infirmary, the fellis making it possible for her to poke and press to her hearts desire without him snarling at her or jerking out from under her touch. "Oh yeah?" he asks, glancing her way and brows lifting. "Came in cause it hurt like a sonavabitch and it was still bleedin'."

Questionable decision makers surround Citayzleat — and are become Citayzleat, too, sometimes. Not that she's likely to admit that under even pain of torment. The candidate listens quietly, piling all of the gauze and supplies into the mostly-empty redwort solution container for disposal. Her expression goes steadily stormier, until her eyebrows are so severely drawn down that her eyes narrow. "Jae." There's not a lot of anger in her tone, but worry, for once, is vocalized outside of snappishness or grumbling. The healer's voice quavers a little, but she gets it under control in a quickness, sighing. "You could go to somebody. Anybody. If somebody's pursuing you when you don't want to be pursued, it's harassment. We have a guard. It's their job to remind people that we live in a civilized society, not like whers." Cita growls the last, maybe a little more viciously re-capping the numbweed than is really necessary. "Being mauled against your will is a serious crime." Clear anger aside, her words are quiet, sincere. Noting the probably fellis-borne change in posture with a wry little smile, the healer straightens, setting the tray on the table between cots and pulling a small book out of one of her pockets. "Well, I appreciate it, whatever the reason is. Yes, they can…" Shoulders twitch in a quick shrug as she flips through the book, eyes narrowed. "Be problematic. Still, it was sharding bleeding," If looks could kill, the book would probably be toast, just there. "A fair bit. It should be fine. Does it still hurt a lot? I held off on enough fellis that I can send some home with you to help you sleep, if you need it."

Golden eyes wander back to Citayzleat, Jae's chin still supporting the weight of his head, but now that she was done applying things to the back of his neck he lazily watches her clean up. The pillow she'd placed in his lap remained, but now he braves shifting his body a bit so that he doesn't have to strain himself looking her way. Unfortunately, this also lets his increasingly relaxed self see the change in her expression, his brows lifting vaguely in response but they soon drift and settle back neutrally upon his forehead. He quiet for a long time, but just when the healer-candidate might think that he wasn't going to respond at all, he exhales heavily in a sigh. "Nah." Wait, what? It's probably the fellis, but J'en offers her a soft smile that was as laced with fondness for her as it was amusement. "It's annoyin' but it ain't worth ruinin' 'is life over or nothin'. Kid thinks 'e's fallin' in love with meh or somethin'." He snorts and chuckles at that, all traces of his anger and pain absolutely gone, his speech a bit slurred but at least the bronzerider had been temporarily alleviated from some of his more challenging personality traits. "The sex was good too, till 'e chomped down, then it was…" Great? Fabulous? Mind-blowing? Jae's voice drifts off into another heavy sigh looking wistful, losing focus, gaze shifting off elsewhere. "…if I stop avoidin' 'im Cita, if I let 'im in like 'e wants…" It was only because she'd seen him through two heartbreaks that he probably feels comfortable talking about it, but then again dems was some good drugs, yo. Wouldn't be the first time she'd had to deal with him in a less than sober state, and unlikely to be the last if trends continued. J'en shudders and his eyes seal behind their lids, "It ain't been that long since Taeski, and ain't nearly as long as that since I got mah feelin's finally bein' sorted about R'hyn. The fuck." Now he rubs at his face vigorously, "What the ACTUAL fuck." Shoulders droop and he peers up at Cita and maybe they're a little glossy before he decidedly flickers them off elsewhere and glares a hole into the wall, as his jaw tightens. "I ain't never 'ad someone after meh like this before in mah life, it's always been on mah terms. 'e knows, everythin' and 'e keeps comin'." Teeth are clenched, chin lowered. "I'm fuckin' terrified I want 'im back as much as 'e wants meh. I ain't ready for this shit, Cita. I ain't." Quickly swiping at his face with the heel of his palm with snort to cover the start of a sniff, he quickly finds his feet, and instantly regrets it. A wave of disorientation hits him like a gold dragon to the face, tossing out a hand to the bed he'd only just risen from to order to steady himself, managing not to just fall over at least. "Oh. Yeah. That's fun," he half-growls, out and then turning back in around the time that his healer friend is looking at her book and commenting on the severity of bit wounds. None of it sinking in, considering he's half standing-half leaning and blinking at her. "Nah," he states, looking away and trying to stand up of his own accord, "Aches a bit but that shit ya gave meh took the worst of it. I'll come back if I need more."

Cita's patient — and also still consulting her little book, eyes narrowed. She taps the page, hums under her breath, and actually starts a little when Jae speaks again. Eyes flick back up to the rider, and the smile gets a dazzling one in return, brief as it might be since it's bracketed by concern. The healer is quiet a moment, dropping the book a little to prop one arm on another, crossed over her chest. Thoughtful. "Not ruining his life. There are other routes than scorched earth." Flashing a wry look, she taps the book on an elbow. "Mindhealers, again. I know how it sounds," It's not like Citayzleat's going to be first in line to get her brains adjusted. "But they know how people work. And how to adjust behavior." Mainly that, the frown suggests, but then her face is scrunching up woefully for the description of his sexcapades. Like she's bitten down on a sour fruit, the healer grimaces, but fond exasperation is as far as it settles. "Shells, man." She chuffs, more amused than anything, and lets the rider speak. She doesn't interrupt or make much movement at all, just watches, thoughtful and quiet for a long stretch. Tapping the book on her elbow in a pattern, Cita considers her words, all but visibly chewing on them to arrange the right ones. Whether or not they'll stick, on a fellis'd up J'en, is up for debate, but she tries. "You've had a…strange few turns, Jae. A lot's happened. This turn hasn't been great," You know, with the stabbing, the thunder in her expression suggests. "So I'd be sharding surprised if you did know what was happening. You've got a lot on your plate." The journeyman speaks slowly, and taps a foot, squinting at the ceiling briefly for inspiration. It doesn't seem to help, but she carries on nonetheless. "You don't have to be ready. If he's not willing to wait, why's he after you in the first place? There are more speeds than full-tilt. You can handle friends," She narrows her eyes, challenging him to disagree, with the proof standing in front of him. "Be his friend. Get used to your new duties. Have safe sex with him, if it makes you feel better. It doesn't have to be serious, right from the start." Beat. "And if you sharding come in here with one more grievous injury, it better have been because a feline jumped you while you were rescuing a baby kitten from a tree, or So Help Me, I will…" What will you do, Cita. Yell? Probably. A sigh puffs her cheeks out, but she's smiling ruefully, moving to offer an arm for support. "Come on, tough guy. Let's get you to bed before you fall asleep somewhere on the way. We'll see how you feel in the morning before we treat any further, hmm?"

J'en might just pause and blink a few more times when Citayzleat smiles at him, those are almost as rare as his own, and she didn't need to be on something for it to happen. So, he will admire it for as long as it is present, ending the observation with lowering of lashes and a cast off expression. "Eh, ya gutta trust meh on this one," he says, eyes drawn to the book being tapped on her elbow, "I got no problem with mindhealers, R'en ordered Taeski and I to see one separately after 'e got let out. We're supposed to go together to make sure we ain't gunna tear each other apart or whatever, but I ain't seen 'im around for a couple sevendays now." The trouble with exes, it never ends, but the bronzerider shrugs dismissively. It had been over between them for several months now, so if Taeski wanted to run and hide with his tail between his legs, he wasn't going to go out of his way to hunt him down. Gaze seeking his jacket, it narrows as it's found, braving an attempt or two to drag it close enough to grab without losing his footing. He spares Cita more detail than he'd already given, but the tapping of the book to her elbow draws his attention back to it, working it methodically up the length of her arm. He'd nearly made it back to her face, but it drops away again. "Yeah, to say the least." Eyes are rolled, but for what the healer-candidate says, not intended for her person. It had been a little over four turns turns since Impressing Leketh, and since then things had been dicey at best on an emotional and strangely physical level. J'en snorts, now looking at Citayzleat head on, smirking at her ironically for the baited trap. Fellis or no fellis, he wasn't falling for it. "Yeah, yeah." They were friends, he wasn't going to even try denying it, even if those he had he could count on one hand. Quality over quantity, right? It did take a special person to even be able to orbit in the general area of the grumpy and stony-faced bronzerider on a good day, something he even willingly admitted. To actively and aggressively pursue a relationship of any kind, sexual or otherwise with him, might even require a certain degree of insanity. No one sane could possibly want that, right? "Eh…I dunno if…" J'en begins, but then he's cut off by her affection-forged threat, stifling a laugh for the absurdity of the image she conjours. HIM climbing a tree to rescue a kitten. "Right. Got it. Do mah best. In mah defense, it ain't like I go out actively seekin' to be knifed or bitten. Give meh some fuckin' credit, would ya?" Heaving a sigh, he throws an arm around her shoulders and lets her help him walk out of there, unsteady as it goes. Somewhere he probably dares to drop a kiss to the side of her head, in gratitude, because what was life without a little risk. A fellis fuelled, "Y'know, all the women in mah life are such badasses. I'm a lucky guy." is followed by a grin, before his drug-induced boisterous laughter echoes off the tunnel walls leading him off to a well deserved rest.


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