Wishful Thinking

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Candidates' Barracks
Carved from a natural bubble in the volcanic stone, this small dorm room has room enough to hold around two dozen occupants comfortably. Along the walls are stationed sets of cots and clothes presses, each made up to the standards of the weyrwoman. Above, the soft white light from electric lamps cast down during waking hours.


Nolan shakes his head at the young healer, "I'm fine, I don't catch ill that easy. Besides your the one who almost cracked her noggin like a egg. What in faranth's name were you thinking?" Clearly there was no mothering this smith. "Take a seat until you regain your balance before you break your neck." He grinned in the direction Heryn had taken off in, jealous of the other man's escape. "No I had rider intern duty today. So was out riding in the storm to prepair for search and rescue."

If Nolan is bad at taking mothering, Cita is a bear, rolling her eyes massively — but not unkindly. "I was thinking, first, of putting a little itch powder in his shoes…but then he tried to *run*, and it's. Kind of a blur after that." The healer tilts her chin up, defiant like a much younger teenager for a brief moment. Then she's laughing again, a few short barks of amusement as she picks her way daintily back towards her foot-smelling cot, pausing to pat her prior sheets down further into Heryn's, just for spite. "I've got it, see." Cita grins over her shoulder; in the distance, still another loud rumble of thunder. The storm getting worse preparing to go over? Preparing to stay until morning for a solid day of rain? At least it's warm outside, somewhere between lunch and dinner, but getting close to the latter now. Cita's nearly busted her head, and Heryn's presumably still fleeing in the corridors, *presumably* off to get ice for her. The healer perches on the edge of her bed, lifting an eyebrow at the soaking-wet Nolan. "Shells. That sounds a little dangerous. Not…as bad as gardening, though. I think the mud ate Emiallis. I haven't seen her all day." ALAS, the lost.

It's uncertain what's worse… the damp that Lukhanyo brings into the room with him, the scowl on his face, or the reddening of his cheek that looks awfully like a hand print. On the upside he doesn't seem too intent on mischief at the moment - though the chances of that lasting are minimal at best. Though he pauses as he enters there's only the briefest of attempts at tidying himself up before he greets the others and jumps into their conversation with both feet. "The lovely Emiallis is missing? I'll search my bed, but I know for sure she's not there."

Nolan grins down at Cita in a sort of brotherly way. "Wasn't that bad, I've seen much worse storms hit the Weyr before, we will be alright." Just as he finished speaking a thunderous boom echoed through the halls, the lights flickering. "Emiallis?" The smith scratches his bear in thought. "I think I've met her but I can't put a face to the name. I'd be no help in finding her." Clearly the smith has been busy doing duties since was searched and not socialising as much as he could be. "Besides Citayzleat, it's not so bad playing in the mud."

Cita tracks the newest entrance to the barracks with slightly narrowed eyes; the scowl is curious, the damp unsurprising. The red mark gets a frown, but the healer puts on an eyebrow-raised look and doesn't comment on that. Instead: "Well, at this point she'd probably be a giant puddle of mud, so if that's something you like…" Cita trails off, the picture of innocence. She doesn't look *too* worried that her chore buddy actually went into the mud and didn't return. Nolan's expression gets a snort from Cita, but she still smiles a not too smirky smile at the smith. "You say that, but I can promise you they'll try and drag me in to a shift at the infirmary just as soon as I get to sleep." The apprentice laughs, and leans back on her pillow — and the pilfered ones — only to pause at little Zula there. The firelizard ges a long look, but then Cita huffs, turning back to the other candidates. "Well, you'd have to talk to him about mud fetishes." A chin-nod towards Lukhanyo, and a bright grin.

Flopping down onto his bed Luka begins to laugh, "You've clearly never played in the mud with the right people Cita. Nolan's right on that one. Damp, but right." He sits up, grinning, looking over in Nolan's direction as he asks, "Have you been playing in the mud with someone Nolan? And you didn't invite me?" It's a joke. Probably. Hard to tell with Luka sometimes, especially when he's grinning as he is, and he doesn't help matters by adding, "I'll protect you from the thunder Cita." accompanied by an over-exaggerated and almost comical leer.

Cita rolls her eyes, arranging herself as comfortably as she can with a firelizard that isn't even hers stealing her pillow. "I think you both need an exam. Do you *know* what's in mud? The pathogens alone…!" The healer points out, looking only a little bit wide-eyed as she considers this. Twitches. As for Nolan going mud-wrasslin', Cita has no comment but an eloquent twitch of her eyebrows. She doesn't continue the teasing, but she does grin a little — briefly. It's replaced by a slightly slack jaw, then an utterly non-feminine snort. "My hero. Thanks." She drawls, deadpan, but it doesn't last long before a few snickers fight out.

Lukhanyo grins, not quite able to resist asking, "Are you offering?" There's a second, literally, of feigned innocence as he asks it, but that very quickly gives way to a rough chuckle and an eyebrow waggle, "Any time. And I do mean /any/ time." With a rather loud sigh he moves, flipping over onto his stomach and propping his arms up on the end of his bed, his head dropping to rest his chin on them. "So is Emiallis missing, or was that just wishful thinking?"

Cita's eyes are probably going to roll right out of her head, pretty soon here. But she *is* the one who just about busted her head literally jumping on poor Heryn. So maybe she doesn't have much room to talk. "I'm not a mind healer." She tosses back, only giving in to a *little* triumphant grin. The eyebrow gets a snicker, at least, though she manages to take a pass on commenting on the second comment. "Wishful thinking! Tch," The healer tuts, shaking her head slowly as she examines her toes warily, like there might still be mud. You never know. "She's not bad." Not that she'd actually *know* so much, being briefly acquainted. There's a beat, then: "What did you have today?" The 'and did it involve violence?' is totally not aloud, right?

"Body healing only, duly noted." Lukhanyo nods slightly, doing his best to hide a grin that seems almost inevitable as he once again dances over the line between gentle teasing and outrageous flirting. If anything her eyerolling only makes him even more determined to continue that track, though Cita's question does make him pause for a second. "Ah, today. Now promise me you won't get jealous, because I spent it in the company of several very lovely women, several of whom were intent on taking home pieces of me when they had finished their tea." The roster said elder duty, but these little details rarely matter.

Cita's snort, this time, is followed by what could be the unholy combination of a sigh and a laugh. "I know where every laxative in the Weyr is." She points out, using a Very Reasonable tone of voice in an attempt to stifle the amused expression. And she just *barely* restrains another eyeroll for the next, eyebrows drifting up once more into her humidity-poofed hair. "Well, I see you escaped the cannibalism, at least." Cita cedes, inclining her head like that's a major victory for Lukhanyo. Maybe it is, really; those old aunties have a *grip* on them, sometimes. "That's something. You're lucky, I hear it's a real problem in the lower caverns." And there's the smirk.

Lukhanyo moves slightly, scratching an itch at the side of his nose before responding to her smirk with a wink. "Oh the lower caverns weren't a problem, but once they got me alone on the terrace…." A big dramatic sigh follows. Poor Luka. Pity him. PITY HIM! "I swear some of them evolved from those things in the lagoon, no actual person can have that many hands all grabbing at once. And I've tried before, so I would know. Still, I have a rest day tomorrow. My turn to go and watch other people working." His head slides backwards slightly, grin hidden mostly behind his arms as he teases. "You'll be… where exactly?"

Cita is…not the most sympathetic person, or maybe the rain's just making her more sassy than usual. "Mmmhm, tactical error there. Even I can see it, and I'm a healer, not a tactician." She's all deadpan innocence, a half-way decent approximation of sincerity and Seriousness. "You let them single you out. You're always safer in a crowd." Benevolently, the healer explains, and — yep. One more eyeroll for the road. "That's." Yeah, no, she's not going there. Instead, Cita levers herself back to her feet with a dramatic grumble of poor-me misery. She's not given to dramatics, herself, though, no. Talk of an off-day (her studying! her poor studying!) gets a rueful look; but as for the last, she grins a slightly feral grin. "Lucky you. Up to my elbows in cow crap and rotting vegetables, myself." Nice. Good mental image, there. "Don't skip dinner, now. You wait too late and the crowds'll thin out again…" Cita hikes an eyebrow, smirks, and makes a bee-line for the door into the tunnels. Food. And revenge, possibly.


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