Kadan ambles in from the dark inner cavern.
Ilesyn is the owner of some kind of office space in the infirmary - a little alcove, more than anything else, filled entirely with her desk. She's perched here, atop the desk rather than in a chair, with her legs crossed, a hide sitting in front of her, which, apparently, she's busy reading. As always, she's sans candidate knot; to be truthful, she's never once worn the thing.
Kadan is dutifully sporting his, although it's looking more than worse for wear - nursery duty has not been kind to it. Then again, neither was kitchen duty. Neither was... anyway. He trots in wearing a cheery smile, eyes darting from one side to the other as he investigates his new surroundings. He's whistling a tune which sports rather colourful lyrics. Ilesyn goes unnoticed, and he raises the lid of a vat, reaching inside to see what he might find.
Ilesyn is perceptive - even the most furtive of movements would be caught, and the fact that Kadan is whistling only cements the reality that he does not go unnoticed. The Mindhealer refrains from lifting her head, or making any motion, though one watching her closely might note that from the corner of her eye she has a very close view of the other candidate.
Kadan hrms to himself, leaning over a little further as his hand finds only air. The vat is deep, and his arm disappears right up to his shoulder before he finds something to scoop up and inspect. A muffled yell echoes around the infirmary as he realises what he's found, his hand shaken wildly. Globs of numbweed sail across the infirmary.
"Kadan!" Without raising her head, Ilesyn lets out a chiding yell, shuffling the hide in her lap to allow her to read the next section. "This is an infirmary, not a nursery! You'd better clean that up, or I'll turn you in to Moloka."
Kadan continues to wail, hopping from foot to foot as he spins around. "Ilesyn, I can't feel my whole hand!" His voice is distinctly nasal, the cold perhaps the reason he didn't detect the numbweed's distinctive smell. "Help!'
Ilesyn's eyes roll, though it might be more difficult to catch that, since she still hasn't lifted her head. "Stop jumping about. You'll disturb the patients," she instructs, sharply. "And yes: that /is/ what the purpose of numbweed is. Serves you right, if you're going to play with such things."
Kadan quietens a little, his arm held out away from him carefully, the boy eyeing it as though it might move suddenly. "But what do I /do/? How long will it stay like this? How do I clean the rest off without getting it on my other hand? Please, Ilesyn..." He trails off to something like a whimper, still shifting from foot to foot.
"It's only numbweed. Haven't you ever used numbweed before?" Ilesyn's tone is somewhat scornful, as she draws her legs down, sliding to a standing position upon the floor, her hides set down upon the desk she has just left. "I'll give you a towel. Wipe it off with that, and then wash your hands. It won't stop it from being numb, but it'll at least stop you from getting yourself numb - again. Let this be a lesson to you."
Kadan is wearing an uncharacteristically mournful expression, giving his hand another quick shake as he awaits his towel. "I've used it, sure, but it always smelled before. Why doesn't this one smell?" He's very close to the canine who poked his nose down a hole and got bitten by something, all howls and self-pity.
Ilesyn turns her back, fetching a towel from the nearby cupboard with a brisk forcefulness, returning to hand it over without a word. Taking several steps back, as if to escape towards her hides again, she notes, "Still smells perfectly strong to me. Your nose must be blocked up."
Kadan claims the towel, busily wiping his hand off, bringing it carefully close to his nose so that he can sniff at it. "Must be. Not a thing." Continuing to wipe at his hand, which lolls about to his apparent fascination. "Shouldn't you be in the nursery? Wearing one of those white knots they gave us all? Or shouldn't I ask?"
"You shouldn't be in the nurseries either, if you have a cold," admonishes Ilesyn, shaking her head. "I-- Well. I'm here, aren't I? And that's all there is to it. I'd rather wear the knot I've earned, than the one that indicates the position I am assuming in order to gain the correct research for my project."
Kadan frowns, confusion writ upon his features. "What? Am I supposed to understand what you're talking about, or are you being delibarately confusing?" Lifting his hand, which he seems to find more interesting, if just as confusing, he watches it flop from side to side. "What knot did you get for your research? Are you talking about observing us all again?"
Ilesyn takes several more steps backwards, until she comes to rest against the front of her desk again, her rear lifting so that it can hang just on the edge. "You're not much good with thinking, are you?" she comments, blithely. "I got a candidate's knot, when I agreed to stand in order to do my research - yes, that's the observation of you lot. I, however, would rather wear my Journeywoman's knot, since it better describes my purpose."
Kadan snorts, setting the towel down atop the vat absently, offering a small smile. "I'm probably not much at thinking, but at least I communicate with everyone. And realise that people are people, not collections of complexes held together with skin." Nose wrinkled cheekily at her, he tucks his dead hand in his pocket with a small sigh. That's going to be fair irritating until it settles down.
"Of course people are people. But what makes them people /are/ those complexes. They're what make us who we are. You wouldn't be you, if you didn't cheat people with card tricks." Ilesyn spares a somewhat toothless smile, shifting back upon the edge of the desk. "And I wouldn't be me, unless I did my utmost to try and help - and understand - those people."
Kadan snorts once more - the picture of eloquence - adding a shrug for good measure. "Yeah, but you don't bother to look past the fact that I cheat at cards. There's lots more to me. It's... it's what my fostermother used to say." And his face is screwing up as he hunts for the word. "Pigionholing."
"You play pranks on other candidates," supplies Ilesyn, dryly. "The trouble is, Kadan, that you don't present all that much else. You come across as a prankster, someone not to be completely trustworthy. If you give me something else to work with, then I /won't/ just see you as one thing." She crosses her ankles, letting her hands rest in her lap.
Kadan shakes his head, readjusting the hand in his pocket with a grin. "Why should I give it to you? You're researching, you work it out. Perhaps my fostermother was awful, my mother abandoned me and I put up this facade to make sure noone tries to get close to me, since I'm convinced noone's really to be trusted with my emotions." Again wrinkling his nose, he goes up on his toes to read the lable on a jar. "Or perhaps I'm trying to emulate my mother with my card tricks, to earn the approval I've always lacked." Another grin. "Or perhaps I just think it's a laugh."
Ilesyn considers, her head tilted to the side. "You don't take life seriously. You just want to have fun, and avoid responsibility. It amuses you, it keeps you occupied. You don't like being bored." Her bushy eyebrows raise somewhat amusedly, though she shakes her head. "I know that there's more to that, but you keep it hidden. I'm still watching."
Kadan laughs, shaking his own head, setting his halo of curls gently waving. "Well, when you work it out, let me know? I've never spent a huge amount of time in...", another pause as he searches for another word. "In introspection. Not interesting enough. And there's no marks in it." His grin is cheeky, now. With his hand tucked safely in his pocket, he obviously feels he's lost his disadvantage.
"Very easily bored, I can see that," muses Ilesyn, head shaking. "Oh, so you're not even sure yourself? Huh. I bet you just want all your decisions to be made for you - so that you can get on with the fun. I wonder why you want to be a dragonrider, then? /That/ is certainly not a fun life."
Kadan shrugs once more, offering a wink as he turns to depart. "Who says I want to be a dragonrider? You're a candidate, and you don't want to be. Maybe I just didn't want to have to spend all my time in the kitchens. This way I get out now and then." He backs up a step, absently pocketing a small pile of tongue depressors. "Then again, perhaps I do want to be. Perhaps I want the joy of a lifemate. Or is it just that there won't be many decisions to make if I'm a rider." And with one more cheeky grin, he's off, whistling his colourful tune once more.
Ilesyn opens her mouth to say something more, and then shuts it again, eyes rolling. She turns, resettling herself upon her desk, apparently deep in introspective thought. "Thoughtless idiot," she mutters, eventually, gaze positioned blankly ahead of her.
Well, at least one of them is introspective. Someone should be.
Keeper of introspection. Snappy title.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 04:49 PM