Healer Hall - Dining Hall
This spacious room has been carved into stone, leaving the ancient areas smooth as silk and the more newly excavated areas rough-walled. Long stone tables are set up in rows, the closest to the doors lined with wooden benches for the apprentices and those near the wide hearths set with cushioned wooden chairs for journeymen. Running perpendicular to these, the head table is smaller and surrounded by intricately carved, comfortable chairs meant for Masters and distinguished guests. Though the cavern is windowless, it is well lit by a simple but elegant electric chandelier that hangs at the centre of the room, as well as the softer illumination of glow baskets scattered at intervals along the walls.
Opposite the Masters' table is the archway that leads into the kitchens, and nearby are the long wooden tables where food is served, often creaking under the weight of various offerings and tended by kitchen staff even in the depths of night.
Scattered around the edges of the space are smaller wooden tables that tend to be filled before the rank-based sort unless the Hall is full or an official ceremony is taking place. It's not uncommon to see healers here outside of mealtimes, studying, reading or snatching food between odd duty hours.


The letter Mirinda got:
Journeywoman Mirinda, There are a few questions concerning you last few monthly reports. You are summoned to the Hall at your earliest convenience to discuss your reports in depth.
Master Bleaster.

It's early evening at the Healer Hall, about a candlemark before the evening meal normally begins. Journeyman and Apprentices start are making their way in, individually and in small groups. The lower tables begin to fill with Journeys and young healers, a few visitors and patients well enough to be up and about are scattered among the faces. Currently, the high table is void of Masters as staff set out plates, glasses and utensals. Firelizards are here also, most very well behaved if they wanna join in the feasting. There's even a few people wandering about with cats or small dogs cradled on an arm.

(re) Citayzleat has discarded her outer layers by the time she reaches the dining hall — down to her usual Apprentice gear is the young woman, neatly-pressed and all. She's got a sling around her chest, but it doesn't actually hold her arm, but a tiny little lump that is most likely a very small firelizard. Cita makes a beeline for a spot as close to the Journeyman tables as she can, the warmest spot available, glaring at a few younger healers until they scoot down. Abuse of power? Probably. Doesn't look like she cares much though, settling down with aplomb and a bright smile flashed around.

C'rus enters the room. He too is wearing a sling with a young brown flitter in it, but he isn't dressed anymore fancy than he usually is. The hall, to him, isn't anymore important than the normal work that he does either in the infirmary or with the weyrlings. He's always been something of a rogue, though for recent memeory he has behaved himself enough to not get himself into big trouble.

Mirinda, on the other hand — Mirinda got a letter, and not one that left her feeling warm and fuzzy inside. It was just this morning, and she sent notice back with Whitethorn that she'd be by as soon as possible. So of course her own firelizard has already been here, though Whitethorn, recently having urged a clutch of her own off to their new partners, is far from small. She is instead hovering, hanging from the chandelier and waiting as Mirinda rushes into the room. Dressed in a knee-length grey duster wrapped around serviceable twill pants and white shirt, she does look like someone who's in a bit of a hurry. She is, however, also notably making herself stop walking frantically and make herself look calm and collected. It's a way that makes her look like someone who is trying very hard to look calm and collected.

Kera is here, meandering between the tables and making small talk with friends and strangers alike. She wears a sling around her neck, even though her arms are just fine. While not in her best clothes, she did take the time to redo her tiny braids. She sorta had to, since her new flitter thought they tasted just divine. Spotting C'rus through the crowd, she excuses herself from the conversation and heads towards the bluerider with a grin.

Cita has fallen into a spirited conversation with another apprentice — one still Hall-bound, given the intensity of the gossip-session. It doesn't last, though, as the boy nods sharply once and heads off, making a beeline for a small gaggle of wide-eyed younger Apprentices. Cita watches him go with amusement, then scans the hall, noting Kera's passage with a grin and only slightly awkward wave. Mirinda, though, her eyes settle on curiously. She might not be the top expert in body language, but that's some Grade A Play It Cool, easy to recognize when you're a master yourself. "Where's the fire?" Cita calls, eyebrows raised a little.

C'rus spots Kera about the same time that she spots him. C'rus greets a few people, but not all that many as he begins to move toward his weyrmate. It doesn't take too long before he is there, "I see you are coming to this little shindig as well." he says. Obviously since she is right there standing in front of him. He then glances over to Mirinda as she enters and waves to his past and probably future boss, though he doesn't call across the room to her. As for the look on her face, he doesnt' worry too much she usually looks like that anyway.

It's likely that Mirinda would be floating over to C'rus and complaining about his departure — for all that he's the exact opposite of her organizationally, he's a familiar and reliable backup — had she not been caught by Citayzleat first. So instead C'rus gets a teasingly put-upon smile and a return wave before she gives the questioner her attention. With a more tired, relaxed expression, Mirinda sags a little and says, "Oh, I was called from my current posting to discuss my reports, which is a little nerve wracking. And it seems now like I'm supposed to be meeting the Masterhealer for … dinner?" Someone is getting punk'd here and the entire hall are participants, apparently.

Citayzleat is turning several interesting shades of red, just as soon as she catches sight of Mirinda's knot. Even her younger friends grasp the foot-face of it all, and abruptly shuffle away, leaving Cita by herself, trying to paste on a confident grin. She might succeed, possibly. "Oh, shells! That's…nerve-wracking. Yes. Ma'am." The girl nods emphatically, making a gruesome face indicative of her sympathy. Blessedly, the firelizard in the sling takes this opportunity to squall loudly, and Cita's eyes widen. "Oh — excuse me, please. One moment." And she's off, searching for food to make the little 'lizard stop yelling, and quick.

Kera nods to C'rus, leaning in to give her weyrmate a hug, carefully since there is a baby flitter curled up snoozing in a litlte sling. Her gaze follows C'rus, also offering a wave to the Fortian. Looking back to Cy, she gives a litlte shrug "Yea, got a flitter a couple candlemarks ago, so here I am. Didn't think I'd be seeing you til I got back to Xanadu." A tiny blue head peeks out of her sling, giving an inquisitive chitter "Oh, better get to seats with some food, or we'll be asked to leave pretty quickly."

V'hera should probably be more respectful, but hey, one Weyrhealer to another, right? Cue him nodding and waving to Mirinda from that table over there, surprisingly visible considering the eye-searing and mottled purple of his shirt. Chances are, that wasn't even remotely the color it was supposed to be, but that's pretty typical for V'hera. "Mirinda! You look miserable," he calls cheerfully. "Come have a glass of wine?" Wait, why is he here? Are all reports from Weyrs under scrutiny?

C'rus carefully hugs her back for the exact same reason. Two new babies in the house, "Some day we are going to put an actual baby in one of these things…" he says with a grin, "Then the cottage will be absolutely full to the brim." he winks and nods, "Yes, we should probably find a seat…" he says as he moves off with her toward the journeyman tables to find a spot for the festivities that are about to begin.

New babies for C'rus and Kera! Good thing Mirinda isn't close enough to make a comment about it or ask, again, if they plan on having any human ones, and when … In the meantime, she's giving Citayzleat and her escape a sympathetic smile. Did Mirinda notice the misinterpretation of her rank? Yes. Does she mind? No. Is she amused by the entire thing? Obviously, but in a subtle way that allows the other to save face. "It most certainly is, though I'm not sure why — yes, good luck," Mirinda amends her sentence, sympathy even more sympathetic as Whitethorn comes down to land on her back. She's over two feet long and doesn't make a very good shoulder firelizard. "Thanks," she grumbles, and then hearing V'hera, louder, "Oh, thanks to you too." Yes, she will come have a glass of wine.

Kera points out a few seats at a Journey table, nearest to an apprentice table. Gaze travels to the upper table, where a couple of Masters are stepping through the back hallway. The steady *thump thump* on the floor is Master Tryen, the aged healer leaning his weight heavily on a walking staff. A small army of servers appear, carrying huge platters and trays, or pushing trolleys with HUGE bowls of soup that one can ladle a portion from. At C'rus's refusal of a drink, she gives her weyrmate a gentle nudge. "Oh one or two drinks won't be so bad."

Another violently-purple-dyed wave of an arm, and — well, everyone's agreed, right? Either way, at that journeyman table just there, V'hera has four cups with wine in them, and he's only drinking from one of them. Enough of the journeyman have pushed down that there's three chairs next to him, too, and he nudges the closest one out with a foot. "Hurry up, before the food runs you over!" he half-laughs, half-mutters, half-hisses, half-fails-math-class.

C'rus chuckles as Kera attempts to offer him drinks, "You've seen me when I'm under the influence." On several different occasions if he recalls correctly, "Not that I need any help to make a fool of myself. I do that sober. At least sober I get to remember doing it and have fun with it." He too gazes upward toward the big table when the banging starts before looking ack to V'hera who is holding too many drinks. He has pity on the man and takes one, "Do you have a drinking problem? If so I can assist you with that." he says with a straight face and even tone.

Coming up behind C'rus, Mirinda lets out a snort of amusement under her breath. One that's loud enough for those near her to hear, but not necessarily enough for them to know what she is reacting to. It's definitely that she probably thinks the bluerider is joking, even if it's completely impossible for most people to tell. Then again, it's also accurate. He probably could help should V'hera actually be an alcoholic. "One drink isn't exactly the antithesis of sobriety," she says, takes one for herself as well, along with a chair. "I, on the other hand, may only be sober until I find out what I'm in for."

Kera settles on one of the seats, nodding to everyone. Chuckling at the glasses already prepared, she reaches for one "Thanks." A quick sip and she sets it down. As the variety of food is delivered to the table, Kera adds a few things to her plate then frowns, scanning up and down the table. Flagging over the nearest Apprentice. "We need some bowls of flitter meat." The apprentice scurries off to hunt down flitter bowls. Mirinda is settling nearby when she turns back tot he table again, the Xanadian arching a curious brow at the odd comment "In for?" A look to C'rus to see if he knows what Mirinda is talking about.

"I do have a drinking problem," V'hera admits cheerfully. "Namely, I can't drink all of this by myself. I think Mirinda was saying something about issues with her recent reports?" He might be a shameless eavesdropper, but it's not like the hall isn't noisy, and she hadn't been standing right next to him.

C'rus looks up from his seated position to Mirinda, "It's going to be fine. You do good with all that stuff. If they get stuffy from you just tell them to buzz off and eventually they'll leave you alone." It works! It really does! "Course they might assign you to the middle of nowhere for awhile but its worth it to maintain your freedom of thought and action." He glances over to V'hera, "I see. Well thats not the sort of drinking problem I usually help out with."

Mirinda essentially confirms what V'hera and C'rus have said, with a, "I was asked to come in because of my reports? Which is a little — concerning, I mean, I'm so careful, and can you see me telling off my superiors?" She may be relaxed because she's with people she trusts, and so she's laughing, but she is genuinely a little terrified, and often too sweet to tell people to buzz off. Even if it is a funny image. "Anyway, I got directed here, though, and I don't know why he wants to speak with me over dinner —"

Just before most people can start digging into their meals, a repetivive thump echoes through the dining hall. Only when silence is had, and all eyes turn to the Master tables, so the booming stop. Master Tryen is standing in front of his chair. He may look a bit on the frail side, but his voice can bellow with the best of them. "Everyone quiet down." Kera leans forward, catching what V'hera says and her glance goes to Mirinda, offering the woman a little smile as she whispers hurriedly "Hopefully it's nothing bad. Maybe you forgot a copy sheet of soemthing." The greenrider shrugs as the apprentice returns with several bowls of flitter meat that she places along the table as needed. By then, the hall is so quiet that the only sounds heard are the seats creaking, flitters rustling about, and the very loud footsteps of any late comers trying to find a seat.

V'hera isn't going to be That Guy who interrupts after the head table said to sit down and shut up, but he does reach over to Mirinda and squeeze her shoulder, offering a warm smile. And then, well, he mouths an "I'm sure it'll be fine." Whether or not that actually translates perfectly. The thumbs-up probably does.

Natali slips into the back of the dining hall, having caught a ride back earlier in the day a'dragonback. Unobtrusively, she makes her way to a place at the Journeymen's tables, and is about to start serving herself when the loud thumps go up, signalling for attention.

C'rus doesn't say it loudly but he says, "Looks like we'll find out one way or the other soon enough." After saying this he falls silent and just waits. Perhaps taking a piece of the lizard meat and feeding it to the little brown that presently rests within the sling.

There's no groaning or hiding under the table from Mirinda, even though that's what she wants to do. Is she going to be publicly shamed in front of the entire Hall, now? Natali's arrival gets a glance, and her greeting smile is a bit less true to form than it normally would be, but it is at least there. And then it moves to Kera, V'hera and C'rus for the … well, one might sort of be able to count those as comforting, helpful words. Kinda. At least from C'rus that could be less terrible than from people Mir doesn't already know are like that without malice. She puts her wine cup to her lips, pursed, and doesn't say anything.

Master Tryen's stern gaze scans the hall, every Apprentice feeling the full weight of it. Even some of the Journeys seem to wilt just a bit when the Master's attention passes over them. When he's satisfied that he has everyone's attention. "Before we begin this most excellant meal the kitchen has provided for us, we have a very serious matter to address." Again silence dominates the dining hall, "Journeywoman Mirinda…..come forward."

Okay, there's some flinching, but not much, from V'hera — and everyone else who was afraid that they were going to be the one in trouble, probably. Cheerleading smile. That's what he'll offer. And, hey, at least he got her that preparatory cup of wine, right? (He'd only come here in the first place to pick up a supply of that arnica massage gel and stay for a free dinner!)

Natali is another of those who flinches, even though she's been at Half Moon Bay for most of the last four days. A tiny green head looks out sleepily from a thicket of black hair, then goes bacck to sleep. At the naming of a new Journeywoman, she's immediately starting to clap. After all, no one ever said she wasn't ebullient.

C'rus sits tight and continues to feed his new little baby. He does owe some loyalty to Mirinda after all. She has been his boss for turns and not a bad one at that.

Mirinda is going to die. Or else, that's how she feels all of a sudden … a pall of whiteness comes over her face, expression totally faded away. That fear about the public shaming was actually on point, wasn't it? She can't imagine what she could have done — a hard swallow, and a single swig of wine that doubtlessly everyone saw, since they're probably all looking at her, and Mirinda draws herself to her feet. She keeps her face impassive, even if her breathing is obviously quite rapid, and makes her walk of shame as quick as possible without actually going any faster than a confident step.

Leaning his weight onto his staff a bit more, Master Tryen's expression remains serious as the Journeywoman approaches, Hopefully, she won't pass out before he's said his peice. When her destination is reached, he gestures for her to stand next to him while he regards the feasters once more. "Welcome everyone, this evening, we are hear to discuss Journeywoman Mirinda's merit, and worth as a healer." He gives a glance towards the younger woman, a satisfied litlte smirk, as if h knows a joke no one else knows. "Before you stands a woman who has devoted her life to helping everyone else. She's gone far beyond expectations is doing everything she can to solve the mysteries that have crossed her path." As the ol man speaks, Master Bleaster steps forward and reches as if he's about to remove Mirinda's Journeyknots.

V'hera is nervous for Mirinda, but — wait. Waaaiiiiit. Is this what he thinks it is? He settles back in his seat, because Master Tyren is smirking just a little too much, and besides, the story about how Fort's Steward Wasn't Murdered is still hilarious — and V'hera rubs his hands together, not clapping them. Not yet. But he's ready. Just in case.

Good that someone thinks this is funny. Mirinda's hands are shaking a little bit, because after all, it does look as if she's in trouble … and being dressed down in front of everyone on the planet … but on the other hand it appears as if she is being praised? She offers a hesitant smile back, and ducks her head a little, not sure if the praise is meant to be entirely praiseworthy. "Thank you, sir," she whispers under her breath, and — holds perfectly still.

Natali blushes and stops clapping, when the Master starts to speak. It's not been too long since she went through this herself, and it's hard for her to contain her excitement. As Miranda stops, and responds to Master Tyren, she grins even wider, only to blush bright red as the little green head emerges once again, this time creeling hungry. "Y'shtola, hush!" The whisper is sharp, and perhaps a bit louder than intended, and quickly, she spears a slice of meat, and starts tearing at it, quickly feeding it to the hatchling fire lizard, in an effort to keep her quiet.

It seems that today will not be the day that Mirinda is banished to the hinterlands of some far flung cothold. Nope! It seems today will be a day to celebrate the awesomeness that is Mirinda. A smile crosses C'rus's face as the spiel begins. He personally knows how much Mirinda has done to make sure the residents of Fort Weyr ended up 'not dead' more often than 'dead'. At the very least she worked to make them mostly dead which is so much better than all dead as every healer knows. He gives Kera a little nudge and says to her, "See…." at a whisper, not expecting her to say anything back to him.

Master Tryen adjust his weight as an apprentice rushes up from the side door with a stool the old man and rest his weight on rather than the staff. He resettles while Mirinda's knot is stripped from her shoulder. "Mirinda played a key part in dealing with several widespread serious illnesses over the turns…." He seems to have dropped the woman's title suddenly "…With no thought to her own personal safety, she strives to find the answers she seeks, at any cost, no matter the risk. I'm told her boyfriend can confirm my statement." He pauses a moment as if expecting a something, that apparently doesn't come, so he continues on with a clearing of his throat. He gestures to his assistant, who comes forward with a full wine glass, and another sets out an additional plate serving at the Masters' table "A long story short, instead of boring everyone into comas, join me in a toast. To the Hall's newest……." He looks around, and seems to be letting his words hang in the air turns, before adding"…Master Mirinda! May she continue to delve into the secrets just waiting to be solved. And be an example to all of you in the coming turns."

Now, see, if Mirinda had allowed Zhirayr to come with her, for moral support tonight, there would have been at least one groan in that awkward pause!

V'hera is, of course, one of the first to start applauding, from the journeyman tables — but then, he was prepped and ready for it, with his hands rubbing together with glee. There's maybe some whistling, too, once enough people are clapping that it's harder to tell it's him.

What. Mirinda can't go white as a sheet now because she essentially already had. Is it possible her freckles have paled out at this point? She actually did start to choke-laugh a second at the mention of Zhirayr's unfortunate involvement in some of her mystery-solving, but she swallowed it due to still being confused, afraid, anticipatory. Now, she is grinning at the Masters near her, letting her eyes well up with tears even if there's no actual crying going on. "I —" she starts, and then her, "Thank you, sir," is much louder and prouder.

Natali is torn between resuming her applause and feeding her hatchling, so she compromises, stuffing food into a wide open maw with one hand, taking a sip of wine with the other, and calling out in her semi-softish voice. "Congratulations Master Miranda!"

Looks like his old boss is going to rise and become a master. C'rus will do the polite thing and clap since that is what is expected, "Another master…" he says to Kera with a slight sigh. Masters aren't on the top of his list of favorite people, but Mirinda probably won't become one of those stuck up jerks who think they run the universe right? It won't take long to find out that answer either. He reaches over and grabs another piece of meat and this time feeds Kera's little lizard in the sling.

Fort will have to try very hard to get rid of her. And Mirinda's not about to undergo a personality transplant. She's probably too young and doesn't teach enough.

Well, she could always get murdered; there's something of a history of that at the Murder Weyr, after all…

Blooooood! Blooood! Blood! Aaaaaaaand death……

No one would ever be able to solve how it happened without her, though.

As Journeyknots are removed, and glasses raise to toast Mirinda all through the Hall, Master Bleaster grins at the younger woman and shows the woman her new knots, before fixing them to her shoulder himself. "Congratulations Mirinda," He offers simply and gives a respectful nod to his fellow Masterm before he'll step back to his own seat, plate waiting to be filled. Master TRyen join in th clapping, but he'll leave the cheering and whooping calls to the younger crowd. Signaling to call for silence once more "Now, while Master Mirinda gets herself settled, by the looks of her bloodless face she may end up as a patient before the evening is done, Everyone dog in to your meals. And maybe in a bit, some of Master Mirinda's former teachers could entertain the Hall with some embarrassing tales of Mirinda's youth. Of maybe of you apprentices know a few amusing tidbits. I promise no punishments will be given out for any tales told this evening."

V'hera isn't the first to tell a story, but he's certainly got the most evil grin when he stands, with a respectful glance toward the hall's master first. "Well!" he calls out, with a voice that's managed being heard within a sweeps wing, even if he's far from Harper-trained, "Once upon a time, in my favorite of classes, I stood beside Mirinda as she was tasked with relocating her first shoulder, thanks to a patient who'd come in after falling down some stairs. And then, most graciously, she let me relocate her shoulder — seeing as how putting his shoulder back in popped hers right out! I think he's probably still embarrassed about it when he recalls it." Is he in the hall right now? Was he from somewhere outside the craft? Does V'hera even remember?

The person who taught that class is the first one to laugh, clapping the nearby Mirinda on the shoulder — the SAME shoulder — hard enough that she laughs. Though she's desperately trying to get wine in and not cry and pretend everything is fine. One of her former apprentices has a tale to tell about being graded down for handwriting on an assignment, with the feedback issued in mostly unreadable writing.

Kera smiles down to her little blue that C'rus offers a tiny morsel to before her attention goes to the upper tables again. She claps for the woman she does not know very well, and nudges a grinning C'rus. "What embarrassing story do yo have to share Cy?" Listening to V'hera's story, KEra stifles a chuckle, but fails and gives into it once the laughter echos off the hall walls.

That was Natali, by the way, with the handwriting.

C'rus sits back and keeps his mouth shut. After all he is very likely to have to work with Mirnda again and he doesn't want to have to explain why he told whatever story he told. So he'll just sit there and content himself with laughing at the stories told by other people, "I'm going to keep my mouth shut." he says to Kera, "You realize I will likely have to work with her again right?"

Oh, like Mirinda would mind. Remember that she LIKES you, C'rus!

Kera shakes her head to C'rus. "Master Tryen said no punishments could be given for tales told this evening." She smirks to her weyrmate and archesa too innocent brow "Unless you'r saying that she's etty enough to hold it against you, considering what she's getting in return?" Big choking huge new Master knots.

Natali finally has managed to get Y'shtola back to sleep. Quickly, she hops up. I remember the time that Master Mirinda was teaching me in a class. I think it was basic anatomy. Now, mind you, my handwriting had neer been all that good, but it'd been getting worse. Well, that day, I was having trouble even reading much less writing something that was legible even to myself. However, I didn't have time to try and rewrite it, so I turned it in. The next day, I got the work back. The only thing on the page I could read was the overall grade. The notes she put down were even worse than my handwriting. I swear, I thought a firelizard had stepped in ink, and walked on the paper"

For those that remember, it was actually not long after that when Natali got her glasses…

Master Tryen gives an congratulating shoulder queeze to Mirinda before he taps his way to his chair. The one with the extra thick pad for his aching bones. Sampling from his plate, he also sips at his wine while listening to the tales that are shared one after another. A few times he smacks the table with his good hand, his way of clapping for a particularly amusing story.

Another story comes out, from the back, about the time Mirinda had to deal with someone who blamed her for telling him he was allergic to his favorite dessert — and the way he'd tried to insist that she was wrong, up to the point where he brought dessert in to see her, stuffing himself to the gills with it right in front of her — and the efforts she'd had to go to to help him when his airway had gotten all swollen with hives.

C'rus glances to Kera as she offers encouragement about telling a story, "I once saw Mirinda eat a whole cake all by herself." Yes. It doesn't compare to the other peoples stories but still, "Which we all know is terribly unhealthy when done multiple times. Which she didn't do." he says simply.

Hey. It happened. All of these things happened — Mirinda is laughing as she eats, and managing to not choke on her food or wine. "Dessert is just dangerous with me, I guess," she says to everyone and no one in particular, not bothering to point out that it wasn't that big a cake. Because C'rus joined in at all and Mirinda refuses to even briefly refute that.

OOC: Feel free to add more if there was more! This is where I (Mir) faded out for RL catastrophe.


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