Chhaya ambles in from the dark inner cavern.
Chhaya peers nervously into the infirmary, as if afraid to actually enter. A perfunctory glance about the cavern and she begins to withdraw once more. Maybe she can say no one was there - one can almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
Ilesyn's at her desk - but not for long. In fact, she's apprently just packing up to go for the evening, although Chhaya's movement nearby draws her attention, ever briefly. "A candidate?" Sigh.
Chhaya freezes, drat. Caught. "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am," she begins, hesitating, then smiling a bit as her tone cheers somewhat. "I can see I've caught you at a bad time. I'll come back another time, earlier maybe." Riiiight.
"Journeywoman," corrects Ilesyn, with a grimace. "Haven't they taught you not to use that kind of title, yet?" Her head shakes, as she stands, moving closer towards the candidate. She sighs. "Now that you're here, and I'm here, I suppose it would be bad form of me to send you away. Go sit down on one of the cots. I'll be with you in a minute."
Chhaya sighs, shoulders drooping slightly as she fails to escape, after having put this examination off so long already. She does not protest this inevitability, however, shuffling obediently to the cot indicated, and hopping up to sit on the edge, swinging her feet a bit. She laces her fingers in her lap, trying not to fidget as she watches the crook-toothed healer in anticipation.
Ilesyn washes her hands, before doing anything. It's a thorough motion, followed by an equally thorough drying of hands, with a clean, white towel. "So. You are?" She strides towards the cot and candidate, grimacing briefly as she gathers up the supplies she needs.
Chhaya's ebon eyes follow the sallow-hued woman's movements somewhat nervously. "Chhaya, m- Journeywoman." Loathe to offer information unasked for, not knowing how it might be used by this formidable opponent, she keeps her response to the bare minimum, for once in her life.
"Chhaya. Right. Well - basically, I just get to look you over, and decide if you get to stand or not. Nothing to be worried about." Ilesyn grimaces again - her lack of amusement remains ever obvious within her expression. "Sit back, relax. I'm just going to have a poke about your head and neck."
Chhaya blinks, considering this. "All right," she consents, unnecessarily. She shifts on the cot, lifting her chin slightly, either to facilitate the poking or in some effort to recoil from it, and after a long pause she asks, "If you decide I don't get to stand, do I get to be a candidate until the hatching anyway?"
Alora ambles in from the dark inner cavern.
Alora plunks through into the infirmary, a perfectly wretched expression on her face. She's slumping slightly, eyes downcast as she makes her way into the room. Add to that the fact that she's murmuring under her breath in a downright unhappy way and rubbing her wrist irritatedly and this is not a happy Candidate! She doesn't even notice her fellow candidate or Ilesyn, rolling her wrist and peering around the other side of the room for someone to help her.
Ilesyn is easily distracted. Call it a dislike of doing physicals - or even touching people. "No," says she, vaguely, to Chhaya, Alora caught within her gaze. "You. Can I help you?" So what if there are other healers about - she wants to be distracted, in the hope that there's more to this entrant to the infirmary, than just a physical.
Alora blinks, turning quickly around to spot the owner of the voice. She seems relieved, muttering ceasing instantly as she spots Ilesyn, and even better Chhaya. "Oh, yes. I... well, I fell down." The 'as usual' can almost be heard though it remains unsaid. "I twisted my wrist but I think it's OK. I just wanted to have it checked." She trots over, her dark mood just barely managing to linger. "Are you alright Chhaya?"
Chhaya :blinks as Alora enters, breaking into a grin. "Yeah, had to have the physical though. Didn't hurt anything. Though one of the kitchen boys threw a pot at my head. I ducked though, so it didn't hit me. You fell down? Better get checked. Did you have your physical yet?" The willowy stablehand's presence brings out the pent-up chatter Chhaya's been holding back. She doesn't mind the healer's distraction one bit, from the sound of it.
Ilesyn holds her hands gingerly in front of her, as if attempting, desperately, to keep them clean whilst nodding to Alora. "Can't help you there, I'm sorry. Physicals, they'll let me handle, injuries they've decided are beyond me." And, by her expression, this is a Good Thing.
Alora's face goes blank as she mouths 'physical'. Suddenly, the glow goes on and she groans, shaking her head. "Of course not. Why would I remember an important thing like that?" She rotates her wrist slowly, then waves the other hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture. "I'm sure it's fine. You wouldn't happen to have time for another physical would you Ilesyn?"
Chhaya eyes Ilesyn's bride of frankenstein posture as the Journeywoman addresses Alora. "I'm not dirty, you know. I just showered," she asserts, perhaps a trifle miffed in tone. She shifts on the cot once more, scooting over a bit. "You can sit here too, Alora, plenty of room." And moral support in the face of this healer is also a Good Thing.
Ilesyn hesitates, and sighs, head tilting towards Alora. "Sit down. I'll do the both of you together, and then, perhaps, I can get out of here. Thank fardles there aren't so very many candidates left to be given theirs." Grimacing at her hands, the Healer adds, "There's dirt everywhere. Germs. They can hurt a person." Evidently, it's something she's rather anal about. "All right. Where was I? Ah - head and neck."
Alora obediently skirts around the healer, plunking down onto the cot. She casts an appreciative grin at Chhaya, then eyes Ilesyn. "Right but... you're a healer so you're around it all the time, right?" She looks a little puzzled about all this. "I'm not dirty either, promise."
Chhaya nods, "We're some of the last, we're just late," she smiles, perhaps it was intended as a reassurance. The germ thing leaves her baffled, and she casts an uncertain glance at Alora beside her. "We're clean, anyway. Honest."
"I'm a Mindhealer," corrects Ilesyn, leaning in to rest her hands upon Chhaya's neck, feeling towards the base, and then up around her head. "I don't do bodies. I shouldn't have to. And--I don't like the germs." She shudders, although she attempts to repress this, adding, "As clean as you can be, I suppose, even if it isn't clean enough."
Alora's nose wrinkles as she watches the woman inspect Chhaya. "Ah. Mindhealer. Of course." She gives a tiny shrug then, hopefully out of Ilesyn's line of sight. "Thank you for doing this physical then. I appreciate it." Sure she does. At least, as long as Ilesyn's hands are on her dark haired companion.
Chhaya ahs sagely, "A Mindhealer. So you're checking our -minds- to see if we get to stay candidates?" She tilts her head back slightly as the inspection proceeds. "Well, I promise I didn't bring any extra bad germs, and I washed very well. I'm not sick or anything, and living in the barracks you'd suppose if there was anything bad there to pick up, we'd all have it!" Oh yes. -very- reassuring.
Ilesyn's eyes roll, as she moves hands from Chhaya to Alora. "I wish. No - you've got a Mindhealer checking your bodies. Feel lucky." Her nose wrinkles rather firmly at mention of picking up anything, "That's a disgusting thought. We better hope that none of that happens." Her head shakes towards Alora, "Do you, really? I doubt it."
Alora stiffens a little as the unfamiliar womens starts groping at her neck and head. She tries to remain still but she can't help but squirm a little on the cot. "No picking up stuff. I don't think any of us are sick, actual..." she pauses as the woman's hands feel along her jaw. "Actually." Ilesyn's question causes Alora to blink, then take on a thoughtful look. Does she? "Well... I don't like physicals any more than you like giving them. I really do appreciate that you're around and at least somewhat willing to give me a physcial though, since I need one." Apparently rhetorical questions are not part of Alora's vocabulary.
Rhetorical questions are apparently a part of Chhaya's, however, and she keeps her mouth firmly shut. You never know what a Mindhealer will twist your words into when you least suspect it! She nods in faint agreement with the stablehand's explanation, though, glancing toward the door. Ilesyn wants to leave, maybe she'll cut them loose early! A smile touches her lips, at this thought or some other perhaps, and she begins to swing her feet a bit more cheerfully as the manhandling of her person ends for the time being.
Ilesyn's hands are drawn away, at long last, although she lifts one finger, noting, "Follow this with your eyes - the both of you." Her attention rather falls towards conversation, rather than full interest in the physical, and she adds, "Ah. I suppose--well, that's reasonable enough. Of course, the best sign of appreciation you could have given me would've been to say no to candidacy in the first place." That's aimed at both, with a partially toothless grin.
Green-gold eyes follow the moving finger carefully, though it takes most of Alora's concentration to keep her gaze from Ilesyn's face as the mindhealer talks. "Well. I didn't realize my accepting Candidacy was a personal insult to you. I didn't even know there were going to /be/ physicals you know." Her tone is matter of fact and not at all rude, and a bit of a smile touches her lips. "You should just tell everyone that as soon as the dragons start Search. Send letters all over Pern or something."
Chhaya's eyes flick immediately toward tranquil blue ones, not following the directive at first. The moving finger is clue enough for her and she quickly catches on, watching the roaming digit intently. Perhaps a little too intently, even, expression resembling a feline preparing to pounce on some small, tempting thing. "Didn't know either," she chimes in. "But they don't seem so bad now. I don't know why everyone was so upset about them."
Ilesyn's eyebrows lift, her attention caught. "That," she says, by Alora, "Is the best idea I've heard all day. Of course, reminding people that being a dragonrider means potentially dying for someone else, which can hardly be seen as an incentive, might work, as well." She snorts, as the finger is dropped, noting, "They get worse. Mouths open, both, please. Wide."
Alora wrinkles her nose. "I wasn't really serious." She blinks then, eyes widening a bit. "You aren't going to... stick your fingers in our /mouths/ are you? What about all those germs you've been ranting about?" She scoots back on the cot, giving Ilesyn an incredulous look. "How do I know /you're/ clean?" Yeah, come to think of it, that's a good point. She clamps her mouth shut.
Chhaya blinks, and stares at the chestnut-maned candidate beside her. "But, Alora, she's the -healer-. She washed! I saw her! And dried up on the white towel. And if she doesn't see your mouth you can't be a candidate anymore." Hmm. Is that so bad? She hesitates, as if weighing the pros and cons of her options, but practicality wins in the end, the girl's mouth swinging wide. "I 'anna ee a 'anni'ate," she explains.
Ilesyn rolls her eyes, watching Alora without amusement. "I washed. Believe me I washed. And I'll wash again, after I examine Chhaya's teeth and mouth." Which she does - her hands reaching in to poke and prod, and generally make life briefly uncomfortable. "And she's right, of course. If you don't agree to this, you'll have to give up being a candidate."
Alora just sighs and nods. "Alright, but you've got me all paranoid now." She settles herself a bit more comfortably, then eyes the prodding that is occuring in her friends' mouth. "I'll open mine once you're done. You don't want me drooling all over I'm sure, right?" She grins, in a bit of a cantakerous mood for her it seems. Maybe she's still irritated about whatever that was.
Chhaya, always fairly cantankerous, is clearly slow to pick up on her friend's unusual mood. Perhaps it's the distraction of being invaded by prodding fingers. "At 'ou oig i' ere?" She queries, rolling her eyes as if trying her hardest to see just what Ilesyn IS doing in there.
"Done," says Ilesyn, as she withdraws her hands, moving rather immediately, and obviously, back towards her basin, which is filled with clean water, ready. Hands scrubbed, firmly, and then dried, she strides back, holding her hands up. "All clean. Ready?"
Alora nods, obediently opening her mouth. Wide. She watches the healer closely though, eyes following those fingers the closer they get to her open mouth.
Chhaya makes a series of odd, exaggerated faces, stretching her jaw now that the prying's done. "Geez," she murmurs, rubbing her cheeks with her fingertips in little circles. "Anyone ever bite you?" Not that -she- would ever think of doing such a terrible thing, innocent expression hastily assures.
Ilesyn thus performs the exam for a second time, this time for Alora, her hands busy at the same time as her voice is. "Once or twice. I tend to bite back, though, so it doesn't always work out the way they plan."
Alora blinks at this last, eyes widening a bit. Her jaws spread wider too. See how she's /not/ biting? Nope! She squirms yet more, trying to keep her head straight while her bottom half slides around on the cot. She's clearly uncomfortable with this, her tongue curling out of the way of the offending fingers.
Chhaya laughs aloud, grinning brightly. "Oh, that would show them! That's rather clever. Surprise some poor sop." Not her, nosirree! She brushes her hair back from her shoulders, twisting to watch Alora's examination now. "Wow, that looks almost as uncomfortable as it felt."
Ilesyn's expression, if anything, shows disgust - and rightly so, no doubt. At last, however, she pulls back, holding hand distantly in front of her as she makes another dash for the water, scrubbing as if her life depended upon it. "I think I had it worst," she notes, her nose wrinkling, as she returns. "I actually had to put my finger in your mouthes."
Alora grimaces, working out her now-sore jaw and trying to work spit back into her mouth. "Yuck." She shakes her head, then wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. "I guess that might be worse, yep." She pauses, looking up a the healer. "Does it get even /worse/?" Oh the horror!
Chhaya shakes her head in disagreement. "No, because you can go wash your hands really well and make sure you haven't gotten any germs to stay on you. But your fingers were in our mouths and we can't just wash our mouths off. Those germs are there to stay, if there were any." About to rise from the cot, she halts, eyes widening, turning to Alora. "Worse?" She yips, in dismay.
"You could rinse your mouths out, if you wanted to," Ilesyn offers, smiling brightly. "I certainly won't stop you there, although I would like to get this finished as soon as possible - and that means reflexes." Her hammer, small though it is, is brandished. "Worse? Well, yes. You've still the sexual organ examination to look forward to."
Alora gulps, reflexively pulling her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. "Sexual organ?!" It's a squeak by the end, green eyes widening. "Are you /serious/? Why?" The hammer is definitely not the biggest problem here, it hardly even deserves a first glance let alone a second.
Chhaya's brows draw together, "I'll rinse." She hops up from the cot, moving toward the water, but the rest of the evening's itinerary stop her in her tracks. "The -WHAT-?" Eyes flick to the exits, marking her path to each.
Ilesyn's eyes roll. "Let me guess, neither of you has ever been touched by a man, and thus thinks that you can get out of the pregnancy tesk, and various other things involved. It's important. I'm sorry. Believe me, I like it no better than either of you do."
Alora blinks. "Well now, I didn't say /that/." She's blushing now, and likely what Ilesyn just said is true. She's still curled up, tightly holding her legs to herself. "Why is it important? I mean... are you sure you need to... do that?" She's grimacing most expressively now. "I mean, I will definitely submit to it to stay a candidate but... Shells I better Impress after all this!"
Chhaya's expression sinks into a glower. Candidacy just keeps getting worse and worse! "Fine," she concedes curtly, hopping back onto the cot like a good little girl. She crosses her arms firmly across her narrow chest, however, and crosses her legs at the knees, pressing them together so tightly she may just cut off the circulation somewhere.
Ilesyn gives Alora a long glance. "That'll be a first, if you mean that you're /not/ one of those. Too many virgins, in this group." Or so sayeth the healer, who brandishes her hammer again, waiting patiently. "Calm. Can we - please - get on to the reflexes, before we worry so much about this? I'll be as quick as possible, when I do it, and that'll be that. Never again."
Alora swallows, holding her knees tight together as well. That looks like a good plan. She clenches her fists until her knuckles turn white, but she just nods. "Fine. And I didn't say THAT either." She clears her throat, saying softly, "It is possible to be touched /and/ be a virgin you know." So there. She blushes then, shooting a glance at Chhaya. "Not a single word!" My but the girl is defensive and snappish tonight, especially for Alora.
Chhaya nods sharply. "Yes, reflexes, let's get this over with." Rather than blushing like her long-limbed friend, Chhaya's embarrassment manifests itself in the form of a less attractive blanche, the color draining from her face as she glares balefully, tight-lipped, at the poor Mindhealer. My my, touchy, aren't we. "Can't be done quick enough for my taste."
Ilesyn brings her hammer down upon Chhaya's right knee, and then the left, satisfying herself with this before she turns on Alora again. "Let go of your knees. Do you want to sit here all night, until I get someone to tie you down? Faranth! It's just an examination. I'm not going to hurt you, and believe me, I'll enjoy it about as much as either of you do."
Alora drops her hands immediately, putting her feet on the ground. "Sorry. No, I'll cooperate." She nods quickly, clasping her hands in her lap and just giving a wilted, miserable look Chhaya's way. "This is worth it, right? Lifemates and all... remind me."
Chhaya slants a glance at Alora. "Lifemates?" She repeats, confusedly, as though the concept had never crossed her mind. "We won't get kicked out. That's worth it. Anyway, she's a healer. They're supposed to be... confidential. Right?" Ebon eyes seek for some manner of confirmation from the blue-eyed woman rapping their knees.
"Confidential, yes." Ilesyn has at least some kind of morals to her, and nods upon this, firmly. Her hammer comes down, testing both of Alora's knees, and then it's put away, so that she can face the two, hesitantly. "All right. Let's get it over with, shall we? Undress, and lie down on a cot, each. I can close curtains, if you're embarressed about being naked in front of each other."
Alora nods at Chhaya. "You know, the dragons? Remember? The point of being a candidate and all?" She winces then as the healer raps her knees. "Undress. Right." A sideways glance is aimed at Chhaya. "I feel a lot more comfortable naked in front of her than in front of /you/. I don't mind if she doesn't." She stands long enough to move to the next cot down, then shrugs out of her vest, moving to unbutton her shirt.
Chhaya waves a hand dismissively, hopping down from the cot once more. "Right, dragons," she acknowledges, though the words don't seem to mean much to her. She skins down with no fanfare, no fuss. "I couldn't care less." All her clothes are folded with the speed of one who spends far too much time with the clean laundry, and she pounces back onto a cot - a different one this time, leaving the first for Alora. "Face up or down?" she asks, somewhat tartly, sitting on the very edge with her feet dangling.
Ilesyn's eyes roll, as she waits. "I'm not going to be looking at you with anything but a professional eye. Besides which, I'm not interested in female bodies in the slightest bit. I promise." Not, of course, that that's the real problem. "Face up, if you please. Just relax. Close your eyes and pretend I'm the boy you have a crush on, if you must."
Alora looks positively aghast at this concept. Mouth slightly ajar, she quickly shimmies out of the rest of her clothes, then lays back on the cot. She still seems uncomfortable though, arms crossed akwardly over her chest. "Of all the things to say!"
Chhaya snorts, bracing her hands on the cot to maneuver herself into the appropriate position. "How thoroughly undiginfied. I think warning people about this examination would be a wonderful way of making sure no one agreed to stand." Relaxing properly is clearly beyond her, but at least she can permit blood flow at this point, shifting uncomfortably on the platform. "If a boy I had a crush on were that impersonal I wouldn't have a crush on him," she adds, unnecessarily.
Ilesyn pauses. "What? You don't like the idea? I think it has merit." Alora is grinned at, before the healer disappears behind the edge of the cot - probing fingers moving towards Alora, since that girl is the closest to her current position. "Ooh. Another good idea. I'll have to work on advertising this one." Her fingers are cold. They're probing. Ooh, so much fun.
Alora makes a muffled squeaking sound and her hands dart up to cover eyes. No, this isn't helping, but maybe it will if she just keeps her hands over her eyes. "Maybe that's a good idea. Think about it as soon as you're...mph. As soon as you're done doing this /quickly/." It's all somewhat mumbled behind her hands, but it's undertandable enough. She squirms a little, clearly uncomfortable.
Chhaya squirms as well, all on her own. Anticipation's a killer. "Oh, don't you squeak, because you'll make me all nervous about it, you know. I won't squeak for you. What are you doing over there anyway? What are you looking for? I've got all my proper parts and they're all in working order, I assure you." She props herself up on her elbow, not to observe Alora's embarrassment, but to haev the reassurance of being able to see something besides the ceiling.
Ilesyn is, at least, true to her word, and doesn't take long, although whether that is due to a rush job, or her being an expert in the task, there's no real way of telling. Her hands - unsurprisingly - are given a good scrub, as she calls back, "Alora, you can get dressed now. Chhaya, I'll be there in a minute."
Alora sticks out an arm, above her head, giving a little wave. "It's fine, really, It's no big deal." She rolls up into a sitting postion, managing a brave smile then. "See, all done. Quick, easy... no big deal." She nods firmly, then scurries into her clothing. "You can do it."
Chhaya sniffs with a hint of indignation, "I most certainly can do it!" Just try telling her there's -anything- she can't do. She flops onto her back once more, ropy curls flipping over the edge of the cot and dangling like silky black snakes. "Quick. Right. Very."
Ilesyn is quick. Not olympic-quick, perhaps, but she does her best. Again, her fingers are cold, and perhaps still a little bit wet, but she's in and out rapidly, and draws back to do the inevitable - wash her hands - within a few minutes. "Phew. Done. Off with you both!"
Alora pauses in the act of quickly buttoning her shirt. "We're done? Wonderful!" She brightens back up quickly, yanking her vest on lopsidedly and then bounding to her feet. "Thanks for being quick about it anyhow Ilesyn." She beckons to Chhaya, nearly dancing with impatience to get out of the infirmary as the other girl dresses.
Chhaya wastes no time in scrambling into her clothes. 5.9 for technical merit, but 4.2 for style. She's in them in a figurative eyeblink, as if attempting to beat Alora at dressing. She's not quite that swift, but she makes a valiant try. "Thank you m- Journeywoman, did we pass?"
"You're welcome," says Ilesyn, cooly, drying her hands carefully, her washing-water discarded. "Thank the shards it's over, is all I can say. And yes, you passed."
Alora nearly beams. "Thank the shards of the first egg, even." She ponders. "In hindsight it wasn't /so/ bad I guess. Hey Journeywoman, good luck with the anti-Candidate propaganda." She turns then, nearly scurrying out of the room and into more friendly areas.
Alora walks off northwards to the inner cavern.
Chhaya bobs her head in wholehearted agreement. "But we passed. Scare lots of candidates, good luck." That said, she scampers off in Alora's wake.
Chhaya walks off northwards to the inner cavern.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 11:04 AM