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Harper's Tale - January 31, 2002, 
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Hold Infirmary and Healer Hall
With a faint smell of redwort, the room is astonishingly clean, even for an infirmary. Recently made tapestries cover the outer wall of the cavern, protecting the patients from the weather outside. Shelves line two of the walls, with healing supplies neatly placed on the labeled slots. Cabinets are above them, where herbs and medicines are stored, a few with locks that only masters have access to. Cots line the remaining wall, with sheets that can be pulled around the bed for privacy or surgery. Glows are fastened everywhere, giving this room an intense brightness. 
You see Master Maladi and Melanie here.
You notice Aerrin and Katrine asleep here.
Xelsey is here.
Obvious exits:
Healer Passage
Calliope blinks in from ::between::!

Miralwyn strolls in with a tray of freshly bottled and labeled herbs for the supply cabinets, as well as several reams of bandaging stuffed under her arm. In spite of all this, she manages an air of grace in her stride as she makes for the shelves. Xelsey is spotted and given a polite smile. "Slow day?"

Xelsey
Bouncy curls of ebony elongate down a slender back in a runner's tail. Pale milky skin, tainted by the lightest hue of natural rouge accent her heart-shaped face. Flecks of chestnut dot her nose, stretching to underneath long thick lashes and round, alert orbs of cerulean. Agile and lithe in conformity, she beholds much grace in her movements. Thin, dawn-tinted lips always seem to grace into a smile, complimenting this young female's bright complexion.
A comfortable pair of faded-blue linen-like pants, containing a barely noticable amount of worn seams, hugging her hips yet quite loose through the length of her legs are worn by Xelsey, as well as a somewhat ashen colored shirt, light in texture to allow for easy breathing by her body. On her feet are a pair of slipper-like shoes, certainly not stable for any type of shop work, more for casual leisure time. Xelsey wears Xelsey's Listening Tube around her neck. Perched on Xelsey's shoulder is Moe.
Xelsey wears the knot of a Healer Senior Apprentice.
She is awake and looks alert.
Xelsey is 16 Turns, 8 months, and 4 days old.

Xelsey is here, yes... but she's curled up in a little ball, snoozing on the job. Woops? Ah well. The infirmary's clean for the most part. Upon hearing Miralwyn's voice, she blinks her eyes open and sits up, nodding "Yeah, could you guess?"

"Oh, never in a thousand turns..." drawls Miralwyn dryly, stooping to start stocking shelves like a Good Little Apprentice ought to. "Admittedly, it's nice that folks are so disgustingly healthy, but a good complex fracture showing up would be interesting... The name's Miralwyn, by the way."

Nerak wanders aimlessly in from the Healer Passage.

Xelsey giggles, nodding her head "Yeah--or an itch or two so I can salve them up in something!" she says, extending her hand in greeting "I'm Xels--was at Grinstead but I'm not goin' back to that smelly hold. Nope, Mosiah rescued me, so I'm staying here," she muses.

Nerak walks into the infirmary with several large men... they are helping her deliver the cabinet she comissioned... "Ok, please set it down over here..." and points to the wall near the sink.

Nerak drops cabinet.

Miralwyn offers another smile, sign of high amusement in Wyn. She takes the offered hand in firm, if brief clasp, before returning to shelf-stocking. "True. Or some really nasty case of some unheard of plague. Anything besides labelling herb jars." A distasteful look at the neat inscription of 'Willowsalic' on the container currently in her hand. "Well... I'm fairly new to the Hall, so I've not needed to be rescued from anywhere yet. Used to live up at Benden Weyr."

"Really? That's a nice place, definitely... lived there once upon a time," Xelsey grins, hopping off the cot to assist with the stocking "Well--I was posted with Aerrin over there... it's one of those farming holds... ugh! It reeked like herdbeast dung /so/ bad! I can't stand it."

Miralwyn quirks an eyebrow slightly, musing with continued dry humour that "I've heard the weyrling barracks can smell worse at times. But redwort is a far better scent than both those." she allows, taking a healthy sniff of Eau de Infirmary while she's at it. The herbs stored, she sets about tucking away the bandaging. "So... you were up at Benden weyr too? Got family there or something?" Her normal bland facade eases slightly at spotting someone who can share reminisces about home.

Xelsey nods her head "Yep--I do. My aunt fostered me though for a long while though... my brother and I. But then I moved back with my Da. Countless family members, that's for sure," she sighs, shaking her head "--haven't seen any of them though for a long while 'cause I was fostered again--this time to my uncle, here at Ista... then he sent me here. Would rather just--be a barmaid or something."

Miralwyn arches an eyebrow, shoving a recalcitrant roll of bandage into place. "Well if that is what you wish to do... why not just do it? That's how I got myself here. Told M'ral that I wanted to be a Healer, and convinced Bneth to convince him that they should give me a lift." M'ral being her father, from her tone.

Nerak closes cabinet.

"Why would you ask him?" Xelsey asks in mild confusion before shrugging "My uncle's like that--he was a little over protective of me or something and thought that I'd make a good healer or something... apparently working in a bar isn't 'proper for a lady'," she mimics, giving way to a snort. "To shells with him! Ah well... healing's not too bad. It's a clean craft... I can live with that."

Miralwyn eyes Xelsey curiously. "Why shouldn't I ask my own father to give me a lift?" she queries, puzzled, but with an expression still smoothly modulated and a tone still painfully dry. "It's not like he doesn't do as much for the rest of his brats. All 15-odd of them." 

Squeak? Wrinkling her nose, Xelsey just closes her eyes "He's /your/ father?" She's not going to pass out though, as her sudden paler than paler look might indicate. She does sit down however. "'cept for one!" she squeaks again.

Miralwyn's eyes narrow, and she sweeps an appraising look over Xelsey. "Why don't you sit down on a cot..." she orders gently. "No good if a Healer passes out in their own infirmary. And yes, he's my father. And I'm guessing yours, too. Doesn't surprise me. Bneth will chase anything with wings."

Xelsey coughs once into her hand, doing nothing else but nodding her head ever so slowly "Yuh? I haven't seen him for a while though--since I was sent down here, anyway. Put Galor in charge of where I went--that wherryhead! Thinks he knows what's best for a lady. Hmph! Might as well have sent me off to the weavers!"

Miralwyn shrugs. "Either that, or he's got too many kids to keep track of. I'm one of the youngest of the older ones, and my mother dropped me off in his lap, so he rather /had/ to keep a loose eye on me... He's doing well, though. Bneth was wing-scored a few months back, but they should be flying Fall again soon." Not knowing how well the other girl (Her sister?) know their mutual parent, she keeps it concise. She settles on a spare cot. "So... I guess that makes us some odd sort of family. Welcome aboard."

"Yeah--I guess so." Woo, Xelsey's suddenly pooped. Settling down into a slump, she sighs, looking up "I should go back and visit or something at some point... not that I've been back to visit in a long while, but that's okay. So--how old are you? I'm almost 17."

Nerak removes Numbweed Tin from Nerak's Blue Bag.
Nerak applies the numbweed to Nerak.
The numbweed, which feels cold, is starting to tingle as you feel it beginning to numb your skin.
You can feel the numbweed has been working, the area is now completely numb.

Miralwyn rolls a shoulder, and stands, returning to her chore of organizing the cabinets. "Either that, or get him to visit /you/. Now that he's got two daughters in the same spot, he'd best come see how we're doing, mmm?" Wyn personally doesn't care one way or the other, but Xelsey appears to. And if she's family, Wyn had best be nice to her. "I am a few months past my eighteenth Turnday." she allows. 

Xelsey nods "Yeah--we could have like--a family gathering or something. Who knows how many more he's--oh wait, you said 15?" she asks, groaning "That's gross--I mean, how can /one/ person have /15/ kids! Ugh! I won't even have one."

Miralwyn shrugs. "He's been a 'rider for twenty five turns. With a brown that chases any gold or green in sight, it's a wonder it's only fifteen." she allows complacently. "Red stuff has to be taken on a weekly basis, if I recall. Miss it once or twice, and that's enough. My mother." A slight hint of distaste for the term. "Has five other brats besides me. And she's only one of the caverns women."

Xelsey nods her head "Yep... and green on a monthly basis." See, Xelsey paid attention durning her classes. Good girl. "I don't even know my mother. I haven't seen her since I was just a child... and glad at that. The only one of my siblings that I've kept in touch with is Damian--and that's 'cause he's here at Ista."

Miralwyn shrugs. "If she's anything like my mother... you're not missing much. The woman has the morals of a... porcine." she intones, sounding as vehement as Wyn ever gets. Which... isn't very. She returns to her usual smooth facade. "Damien, hmm? He by the same sire, or a different one?"

"Same sire... I was very close to him growing up... he got fostered with me... he's the assistant steward now... works with a lot of cute guys, too! But that's okay, I do too." Mosiah's just the man. Can you see Xelsey fluttering?

Miralwyn nods. "So, another sibling for me, then." she notes dryly. "An instant family, it seems." And then something dances in the back of grey eyes. "You do too, hmm? Any particular specimens?" Sharing dirt is what sisters do, after all. Even if Wyn doesn't intend to part with any herself.

Xelsey blushes slightly, shrugging "As in who I think's cute? Well, Mosiah's more than cute. He's downright /hot/! I must have a thing for guys with long hair... Damian's got long hair... but I don't think I could ever fall for my brother."

Miralwyn offers a quiet laugh. "Hmmm, no. We aren't from some back of beyond cothold, after all." she allows, finishing her sorting, and settling comfortably on a free cot. "But Mosiah... I think I've spotted him in classes a couple of times. You'll have to introduce us some time."

Yeah right. Moe's Xelsey's. Sorta. She'll keep him and enslave him for herself. Ahem. "Maybe... I'm sure you'll see him around here a bit... but anyway--he's got long hair... in braids. He braided mine!" she states, pulling her hair forward over her shoulder "See?"

Hey, Miralwyn never said she was poaching. She's a Good Little Apprentice, remember? And Good Little Apprentices don't look at boys. Or at least not ones already taken. Too much fuss, then. And fuss is not good, when you're following the first commandment of apprenticeship: Thou Shalt Not Get Caught. "No doubt I will." she aquiesces. "And that's a decent enough braid. I'm afraid my own hair isn't long enough to do so properly."

OOC: Xelsey hasta goooo... :/
OOC: Miralwyn snugs. Thanks /bunches/ for RP!
OOC: Xelsey says "Till next time! *wavies*"