Rumored Demises II: Electric Boogaloo
Who Doktah, Ibreily, Leimna, Rulayn, Sygni, Vossrik
What Leia cuts Fort's power, Rulayn eats it, chaos ensues.
When Summer 2711
Where Living Caverns, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.


Excitement, adventure, and really wild things are afoot in the Living Caverns. Sarcasm implied there: Vossrik's just sitting at a table, teensy files and teensy brushes scattered around him, cruller sticking out of his mouth like a sweetly frosted cigar, and on face are a pair of thick magnifying goggles (just in case his big bishounen eyes weren't already comically huge). Every so often, he holds up one of a series of metal gewgaws up to the light and turns it, then sets it in some sort of order amongst its fellows. A few get a careful filing treatment above a piece of parchment that catches the bits of cast-off, which then get pushed fussily into a small pile.

And what goes just great with careful filing and metal gewgaws? CHILDREN, of course! Thys's wee charge isn't screaming (FOR ONCE), though reddened eyes and ample sniffling implies she probably was recently; Sygni's eyes are red and Sygni is sniffling, just to be clear. Though her cheeks are tear-tracked, the babe seems content enough to be carried by the hard-blinking candidate for now, one sticky hand fisted deep into Syg's blonde hair. "Faranth. You look ridiculous," Syg utters when she spies Vossrik's magnified eyes, though with her hand clamped over what appears to be a nosebleed, it comes out more like, "Fawanf, yew wook wedickyoowuss." Which. Kettle. But here we are. Sygni meanders on past to fetch a cloth napkin, pressing it hard to her nose to disguise the bleeding when she makes her way back, dropping hard into the seat across from Vossrik with no invitation. "Whazzat?," she asks of his work, shifting the babe to her lap (or trying), muttering, "George, no" when the toddler tries to climb her like a mountain. Toddlers, man. Toddlers.

It happens. It happens with a suddenness and a quickness; suddenly the lights throughout the entirety of the weyr go dark, the unnoticed generally but now extremely obvious background hum of electricity going hush in that one, two, three stretch of silence following the brain catching up with the eyes and figuring out the answer to the world's greatest question: What. The. @#($. Leimna. Leimna is the @#($, and it becomes obvious when, in that three second lull of people holding their breath lest they provoke any unseen monsters lurking where ONCE THERE WAS LIGHT, there comes the maniacal cackling of one now-brunette ginger and the resounding, "OOOOOOPS!" Emphasis on the 'P' and the 'S' and the maniacal. "RUN, ROO, RUN! RUNRUNRUNRUN!" And from somewhere, somewhere, emerges Leimna with Rulayn's hand in hers, running like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness depend on their mad dash to freedom - except they can't see now, can they, having taken out all of Fort's right and properly placed lighting? We're going with evening time, by the way. Mass effect. When people are suddenly scrambling from chairs to escape their deep-seated but barely acknowledged FEAR OF THE DARK, Leia is weaving through dark shapes with Roo in tow and trodding on the occasional slowpoke who has the misfortune of being underfoot. "OOF. OOPS, SORRY! CAN'T SEE! SOMEBODY TURNED OUT THE LIGHTS." CACKLE. It was her. And RUN RUN RUN until she slams into somebody and her hand flies from Rulayn to catch herself on - squeeze, squeeze. "Sygni! I would recognize these beauties anywhere. And…" Extra squeeze. "Handsome Red Fruit. Did you get your gift?" Giggle. YES. SHE IS GROPING YOU ALL INAPPROPRIATELY, and identifying you with such ministrations (which is arguably more disturbing). There's the limb-flailing of one who doesn't quite know where her limbs are and then a call out of, "MIGHT I SUGGEST WE RUN?" Because there were an awful lot of people enjoying their meals before Leia struck the cords of panic and weyr-wide discord. Whatever she did, they aren't about to fix it overnight.

"WHO DID IT?" The accusing voice of Doktah rings out from somehwere in the darkness. For once, her tone communicates actual emotion: raw anger. "WHICH ONE OF YOU TECHNICALLY INCOMPETENT, BACKWARDS PEOPLE SHUT OFF THE HEATING?" Stomp stomp stomp.

"Bushings. Couplea things need replacing around here on account of wear and tear and shi… and stuff. So I begged off of normal chores so I could my thing and…" The *FOONT* of expiring electricity, the sudden yelling, the ensuing chaos all serve to cut off Vossrik mid-sentence. There's a musical *clank* as something metal hits the table, and a loud, profoundly male SIGH as shuffling fabric betrays the sudden invasion of his personal space. "Is this my gift?" comes his long-suffering and laconic murmur in the dark. "It's certainly a surprise, but I can't see nothin'. Hey, anyone know where the glows are stored around here?" Or they could all see by the light of Doktah's intense technological FURY.

Oh Shards, Leimna. Rulayn was already having a hard time trying to control this maniac of a Candidate as she tried to 'help' with the electronics. And now? No power. Not her fault either, but somehow, Leimna had managed to drag her by the hand away from the folk who were now accusing both Leimna -and- Rulayn of breaking the Weyr! And so, into the living cavern the girl is dragged, desperately trying to not be trampled and/or trample on anyone herself, with no way to see where she's being hauled. When she's suddenly released, the momentum of the running practically sends Rulayn crashing into something hard, followed by a random body, before the dark world spins around her and she hits the ground, -hard-. Whether or not she's alive after that? Well, we'll see.

Sygni's mouth opens, likely about to ask what in Faranth's name a bushing is, or perhaps tell George to please sit down or she'll make you sit down bless your little heart, child, but then, oh then! Lights go out, and there is that bated moment of waiting, wondering, and suddenly— CHAOS. Creepy giggling is likely the last thing anybody wanted to hear in the sudden dark, especially when it is promptly echoed by even creepier baby giggles, but it's there just the same, Sygni delighting in and inspiring some of the hysteria as she enjoys the mass panic entirely too much. It's only when she's collided with, knockers knocked, that she stops, eerie laughter replaced with a dull "OOF" and what is probably a splatter of blood on Leimna's person. Delightful. "Did you do this?," she asks, pride in her tone even if her face can't be seen. "It's not even my turnday." Good grief. And then Doktah is filling the space with her MIGHTY RAGE and Syg's back to giggling again, shouting out a loud, "OVER HERE, SPARKY. I FOUND THE CULPRIT. THEY'RE—" A crash, a slam, the sound of a body hitting the floor with no way of knowing whose it was, but she's going to blame them anyways. Poor Rulayn. "THERE. ON THE FLOOR." As for running or glows or other reasonable suggestions: "Nahhh. This is perfect."

"AM I SPARKY NOW? I THOUGHT I WAS STILL 'SUIT'." Doktah manages to maintain her tone of rage and indignation even while making inquiries about her nickname. "KEEP THE CULPRIT STILL. I SHALL SEE TO THIS PERSONALLY." She declares with all the sinister fury of some sort of evil overlord. Sadly, despite such proclamations, navigating in the darkness remains difficult. She bumps and crashes into several people and/or items of furniture on her way to Sygni and Leimna. "OW. OW. OW." At least it sounds like she's getting closer.

"IT DEFINITELY WASN'T ME!" Leimna calls out to Doktah's rage. "BUT YEAH, I THINK - good thinking Syg - I THINK THEY'RE OVER HERE!" Lei'ero stifles a giggle, leaning forward on Vossrik and having yet to release her cousin's bosom. "Do you like it?" Leimna breathes against Vossrik's ear - or at least, that was the aim anyway. Actually she's probably whispering into the back of his head or against an eyebrow unsexily because wherever her mouth is, there's a suspicious amount of hair (and an unnecessary amount of tongue-delivered spit wetness too), and her words are a muffled caricature of what they are meant to be. There's also a suspicious amount of coppery-smelling spatter suddenly on her (CAN A NOSE EVEN BLEED THAT MUCH, ARE YOU ALIVE?), but Leimna doesn't seem to mind it because if Sygni is talking and giving the impression of being impressed, then she isn't dying. She clambers away from the he-candidate to grab hold of what is hopefully her cousin, but could really be anybody in the dark and - squeeze — yeah, no, definitely Sygni. "I couldn't stand it. They were talking about why we shouldn't do this thing and then, you know…" She doesn't need to finish it, SHE DID THE THING, and Dokatah is getting close and - wait. "ROO?" Pause, blind outreach. "ROO, WHERE DID YOU GO? HAS ANYBODY SEEN ROO?" She's laughing because nobody can see. She's a comedian. FIGHT HER.

Where's Roo? Who knows? There's no response from the girl - especially not when Leimna calls. If the girl is even alive right now, she probably doesn't want to answer to the one who got her in this mess!

Slurp smack shuffle… sigh. "Ahem. Um. It's very dark, all right," Vossrik offers. "Wait, are you BLEEDING? Doktah, did … did you punch Leimna? Or wait, Roo? Did you get violent? Wait, was it Sygni's kid?" Next time, on CONFUSING SITUATIONS. He SQUEALS then, barking out an "Ohhh no no no no no no!" as, with a rolling noise and several pings, the metal cylinders he's been fussing over go bouncing over the floor to god-knows-where. "Noooo I'm NEVER going to find some of those. I've been out here for HOURS. Guess that means *I* go get the glows." Wood complains against the stone floor and there's footstep after footstep, cuss after cuss, ping after ping as Voss's oversized feet kick his bushings hither and thither.

"I HAVE NOT EMPLOYED VIOLENCE AGAINST ANYONE YET." Doktah shouts with a worrying emphasis on the 'yet'. There is another thunderous collison as Doktah knocks a chair over, likely bruising her shin badly in the process. "BRING FORTH THE GUILTY PARTY." Because she no longer wishes to stumble through the dark cavern. "MY PUNISHMENT SHALL BE BRUTAL BUT FAIR."

"GIRL, YOU ARE WHOEVER YOU CHOOSE TO BE," Sygni shouts back if only because the shouting is fun, and it seems to be amusing her charge, who has taken to shrieking wordlessly and wailing her fists around, still very much clutching to Sygni's hair if the quiet, pained noises that follow are anything to judge by. "JUST FOLLOW THE SOUND OF MY VOICE. ECHO. ECHO." She inserts the words after each of Doktah's approaching 'OW's. As for Leimna: "Say no more. I completely — ECHO — I completely understand. How they expected you to resist after telling you it was there…" She trails off with a tutted laugh that flicks more of the blood dripping down her face around (it was a fresh baby punch to the schnoz and she hasn't had time to drain it since she got here, sue her) before inquiring, "Roo? She's here? ROO. OH ROO~OOO." Metal bits clank to the floor, Doktah slams into something loudly, and Sygni can only giggle wetly and follow Leimna's arm from her own boob to the girl's shoulder, squeezing it before saying, "Hold George." And THERE GOES THE TODDLER, so she can bark a bright, "I'LL FIND THEM, DON'T WORRY," before she drops to hands and knees and starts pat-patting her way across the floor Velma-style to find the fallen Rulayn and bring her to justice.

Whatever is dropped in the vicinity of where Rulayn is, is likely to hit the girl in the process. There's still no response though and should Sygni eventually grab the skinny girl, she'd quickly realise that the body she's touching is face-down and motionless. And there's a wet substance around her head. Maybe someone spilt klah over her after she collided with that table? Maybe not.

A meaty bonk accompanies Vossrik's cuss/shuffles as his foot collides with something. Oh my god, soylent Roo is PEOPLE! "Uhhh… guys?" he calls through the gloaming. "I think someone's passed out. Like, how many people does this make you having terrified to death, Leimna? I've got a tally goin'." Finally, there's a sound of a door opening and closing and a clacking noise of glow-on-glow as a basket is retrieved, shaken, and opened. A pool of dim illumination lights up the area around the Smith, but only just, and he sighs. "I found one basket. Jeesh, you'd think they'd have a few more knocking about just in case someone does whatever the crap it is youse guys did to the lights here." The glowing traces Vossrik's face into a ghastly, sharp relief as he holds the precious light high up and squints. "Ummm… can someone flip over… whomever that… is that Rulayn? Roo? You alright?"

This is quickly becoming grim. Doktah's pointless, ineffective rage is doing nothing to help the situation. Yet she does not calm. "DO YOU HAVE THE TERRIBLE PERSON WHO CAUSED THIS AFFRONT TO ALL THAT IS GOOD, WARM, AND TECHNOLOGICALLY SOUND?" More attempts at forward progress are made. Slower this time, so that the inevitable impacts are at least less painful.

"Not me!" Leimna chimes with unnervingly ecstatic-y ecstaticness in response to Voss' question about blood - just as the rain of blood continues. There's another delighted shriek, possibly because the spattering of blood will assuredly mean - "BUT SOMEBODY IS CLEARLY GETTING MURDERED." And how many bodies does this make? "Let's hope one more." Too bad she doesn't realize the seriousness of the situation. Leimna is entirely too excited about this prospect - even if it's because she knows that the only thing that's been murdered is Sygni's face (even if she doesn't know the why). Leimna takes George, sits on what she thinks is a chair, and sticks her legs out. THE BETTER FOR VOSS TO TRIP OVER (no, really, she is hoping to just further along the dissent). "Hello, sweetness. Are you having fun?" she coos to the child, turning her head in Doktah's assumed proximity to shout, "NO, NO. I THINK YOU'RE ALMOST HERE DOKTAH. I'LL CONTINUE THE ECHO WHILE SYGNI SAVES THE WORLD." GLOWBASKET. Well, there goes her fun. Spoilsport. Still, she beams and waves for Doktah, bouncing Georgie on her knee as she looks at the prone possibly-corpse and then blue eyes shift to Sygni. There's the first real hint of worry there as brows arch towards her hairline and she jerks a chin towards Roo. She'd turn her herself, but her hands are full of toddler, and then her eyes are back to Voss, one non-toddler supporting hand extended. She has a much younger sibling; she's got this. "I've got George, but I'll hold it if you and Syg want to check on her."

It's late evening and somehow, alarmingly, it's just as dark inside as it is without. Rumors are probably already spreading, humans and their pathetic hindbrains being what they are, speaking of tunnelsnake attacks and creepy child laughter the caverns is haunted and other such ludicrous impossibilities, but in reality Leimna (Rulayn in tow) has managed to shut down the power grid for the entirety of Fort and it's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. Then it's hilarious, or so Sygni's tone conveys as she replied to Vossrik with a drawled, "That depends, how many of those have been your lives, Kitten?" And then fingers find pooled wetness, and shortly thereafter, Rulayn's still form, and Sygni shuts up, brain jumping to horrifying, terrible conclusions, breath leaving her in a hard shudder when the glowbasket dimly lights the area. At first she doesn't do anything but shake, a strangled whimper cut off by steady breathing - the kind of steady breathing you're counselled through as her head shakes and she backs away. It might be klah, but even in the slight light, Syg's gaze is wide-eyed, distant, reliving visions of a similarly prone, still form, this one male, her cousin, Leimna's brother and— no. She can't. Someone else will have to do the turning, make sure Rulayn is okay. She's too busy crab-walking back to press against Leimna's legs.

The glowbasket that Vossrik produces is probably just about bright enough to illuminate a pair of skinny legs garbed in dull hide pants. Hardly enough to determine that the person faceplanting the ground is Rulayn, until the light illuminates her messy blonde-brown hair. Uh oh. There's an assortment of metal pieces scattered around her from where Vossrik had been robbed of them, and a rather disturbing crimson-coloured splatter across the floor on one side of the girl's motionless head. Look at what you did, Leimna.

"Holy shitsnacks!" Vossrik exclaims and, because he's good at this sorta thing, drops the glowbasket as well as his hands fly into the air. The room is once again plunged into near full darkness when the basket hits the ground, though a few pebbles of glow jump out of it to land wetly in whatever fluid pools around the fallen candidate, its reflection twinkling from off of varying metal bits. "Oh jeez oh gosh oh criminy oh man." He pauses significantly. "No, this is an 'oh shit' moment, yeah. Oh shit. Uhhhh, does someone want to, y'know, send a… a firelizard? Doktah? To get, like, a Healer? Or Weyrleader? Or adult of some sorta kind."

"I am an adult!" Doktah insists, unhelpfully. But it does seem to be getting through to her that there is a crisis here that goes beyond loss of light and heat. "… My firelizards are too small to carry messages. I will try to get help. But if this is an attempt at misdirection…" She heads back bowl-wards, crashing more along the way back.

What's that creeping in the darkness? Sneaking, hiding — stubbing their toe and screaming swearwords loudly enough to make the dead rise and claim the huddled masses in the caverns — shambling, now, actually. It's probably not the ghost of Faranth, coming to eat people for their crimes, but that gargling noise sounds mighty suspicious. "Where the sharding shit did the lights go?" Did somebody call for an adult? Because they're not getting one. No adults here. The only light around? Illuminating somebody's prone form, and huh. "What genius managed to fall? What happened? Who's. Shells — I — Careful, Dok, the lights are out! Whertits, watch — your." Well. Alright. Maybe that's not possible. "Feet." Yeah, alright. Ibreily's disembodied voice will eventually make its way over to the commotion. Maybe. Until then, she's a harper without a story, and that just cannot stand. What on Pern?

There's a shift in Leimna's entire demeanor as quickly as the lights were snuffed; Sygni whimpers and hits Leimna's legs, and the candidate is off of her seat with George in tow, crumbling beside her cousin to pull her in against the shelter of her body. "Sygni?" Does Leia sound afraid? The quiver in her voice is persistent, but controlled as she keeps hold of one toddler and fingers scramble for purchase on her cousin's face. Digits catch at her chin and she forces the older woman's gaze to her, brows furrowed. "Sygni, what -" but Vossrik is exclaiming things, dropping glowbaskets, plunging them back into inexplicable darkness with the added horror of - now Leia's making the strangled sound in her throat, the fingers clutching at Syg going bruisingly tight before she swallows down air and pulls the toddler in tighter. "I'm… I'm right here," she breathes to Sygni, the words strangled and forced as she attempts to reign in control over her emotions. "Vossrik," comes her voice again, frail yet somehow still conveying authority as she gains her feet and hauls George with her. "Take George." The toddler is pushed towards the smith, and Leia takes another glance down before a strangled litany of words that sounds suspiciously like, 'Pleasenopleasenopleaseno' escapes her - but it doesn't stop her from moving. She kneels on the ground closest to Ru's broken head and swallows in an ugly gasp of air. She can do this, she can do this, she can do th- "I can't do this. I can't…" A sob, but she doesn't stop. Her Th'ero cloak is pulled from her shoulders and laid out beside Rulayn. What does she plan to do with it? Maybe use it as some kind of gurney? Regardless, Ibby is on the scene and Leia's choking out her cousin's name with a mix of relief and PLEASE HELP ME NOW, SYGNI NEEDS YOU, I MIGHT HAVE KILLED SOMEBODY. "Doktah went to get somebody… I think… maybe we can meet them halfway if we carry her on the cloak." She will reach for inner calm and reason. "Voss, just keep hold of George, okay?"

Vossrik, clearly in shock by the rapidity of his breathing, doesn't hesitate to scoop up his new charge to hold tightly against his chest. A little TOO tightly, given the plaintive little yelp. "Is… is she breathing? Waiiiitaminute, how'd she GET here? It was just Sygni, her kid, and me before, y'know… *fwoont*" A scratchy sort of breathing noise registers from his feet, and he sighs out his relief. "Wait wait, I totally hear her breathing… wait wait WAIT, wasn't she with you, Leimna?" George begins a new series of little whimpers that go up in pitch as, along with the swish of fabric on fabric, Vossrik shifts him to his other hip. "Someone else should proooobably take the kid, though. I can carry Rulayn if it's needed. But aren't we supposed to not move someone if they get their head hurt? What HAPPENED?"

This can't be happening. Sygni's head shakes mutely for Leia's attempts to calm her, shakes harder when Leimna passes George off to Vossrik, fingers snatching out to catch at her sleeve and missing when the girl moves closer to Rulayn. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. A heavy swallow precedes motion, at first only eyes that swing up towards Ibreily, wide with horror before she shakes her head again, clenches hands, swallows, and— "Can't." Her voice trembles over the word before she glances Vossrik's way, grateful he's able to put to words what she can't manage to. "That. Her head. We should wait." Another hard swallow, another glance towards Ibreily, this time to jerk her chin at Leimna. No, take care of her. Sygni, in the meantime, will focus over the slim candidate's shoulder, eyes widening and then narrowing, anger filling the gap left by the woman's usual chicanery. "You." And there's Chadham again, the poor lamp-bearing Journeyman Healer summoned perhaps by Doktah or perhaps by heresay, but regardless an adultier adult arrived at last. He looks ready to fight Sygni, even as the blonde surges to a stand, five feet of tiny rage, but in the end, the candidate turns, pulls George back out of Vossrik's arms, and snarls a feral, "Try to actually save this one, will you?" And before more emotion than Righteous Indignance can possess her, she picks her careful way towards the exit before exploding out into the bowl beyond. "Anybody else?," Chad asks, question clearly rhetorical as he moves to join the throng of remaining candidates and take up a crouch next to the dropped glowbasket, lamp lifted to see what he can see with a queried, "What happened?" and a press of warm, deft fingers under Rulayn's chin, seeking a pulse.

Doktah has been quiet for a while. Maybe she actually did manage to escape the darkness and go get help. "I SHOUTED INTO THE BOWL. I TOLD THEM WE NEED ELECTRICITY AND MEDICAL ATTENTION." She bellows back into the living caverns. "HOPEFULLY THEY WILLPASS THAT ALONG TO SOMEONE USEFUL."

Ah, shit. Maybe she is an adult, like Dok and her helpful helping. That's blood. Ibreily stops a few paces off, stares at the vaguely-illuminated form on the floor, mouth working soundlessly for a long moment. Then Leimna's voice reaches her, and the harper-candidate moves, a little jerkily. "Hey. Hey," Quiet, breaths coming in obviously-measured beats, Ibby crouches near her cousins. "She's alright." She's lying. She has no idea, and the lie is the least of her concerns. "Dok's gone to fetch somebody. They just caught something, eh? We've had worse in the last sevenday." Another possible-lie. She's not even sure who it is, down there. Not sure, that is, until Doktah summons Chadham, and the evening goes from bad to WORSE. Sygni's blistering ire, the baby-snatching from Vossrik — and just in time, too, the last thing the tot needs is a glimpse of prone bodies on the floor — and the healer. Good. "She'll be alright, Voss." Ibreily tries to soothe, awkward and a little high-pitched, but she's got a job, just now. And that job is to hoist her cousin up gently by the nearest arm and start walking her towards the nearest exit. "C'mon, Leia," She chivvies, a little scratchy still. "Let's go check on little barnacle-George, she's probably pretty confused." She's not taking 'No' for an answer, either; lurking around Chadham next to a fainted candidate is not in any way on Leimna's schedule. Things to do. Places to see. Anything but here, and this. If they can ever find the door. That's the downside to no lights: ya can't see where the sharding shells you're going.

No sooner does the Journeyman press his fingers to Rulayn's neck when a sudden groan comes from the figure splayed out on the ground. Then, movement! Arms that are sprawled out in every direction start to move and the sound of something sticky being peeled off the floor. "Ugh.. My head-.." Rulayn's voice comes over as groggy and confused, and then suddenly the girl starts to lift her head, defying any attempt to keep her down. To the trained eye, beneath the girl is what appears to be, not blood, but the remnants of some kind of pastry and mushed red fruit, which her face had been so conveniently slammed into. Half of the fruity mess is plastered all over Rulayn's face, from chin to cheek to forehead, with the rest scattered across the floor. There is still, however, quite a nasty purple bruise across her temple from where the dessert had not completley cushioned the fall. Still, at least she smells sweet? With eyes untrained to the darkness, Rulayn blinks a few times and tries to look around, wincing as the light from the nearby lantern shines in her face.

"Dude… DUDE! Owwww, what the shit? Warn a dude before you BLIND his ass!" As someone provides the light that revives Rulayn, Vossrik drops to his knees and puts one beefity arm around her shoulders. "Hey hey hey, careful now. Slowly. You're… wait." Reaching out, he draws a finger across her cheek, brings it to his nose, sniffs, then tastes. "Wait, okay. Can we figure out what happened and why you taste so delicious now? Whoa, gentle, Chadham. Hurt her and we'll all go completely sickhouse on your ass."

Leimna's numb - and just as glad for Vossrik's voice of reason as she is for Sygni's. Voss will probably get a special present for his manliness - and Doktah too, for being fantastically on-point. But then there's Chadham, and the healer's appearance makes the prone body on the floor and the red pooling above her head too real, too much, too — Sygni departs, and Leimna's reaching out hands for Vossrik that come into contact with Ibreily, and she surges into her cousin with a strangled, wordless sound. Fingers press to lips and she's just opening her mouth to say something when, "Oh thank Faranth. Ibby, she's okay." And then she ugly cries. She ugly cries an she trips over chairs and tables and people as Ibreily leads her through darkness to the night outside. "Vossrik," and Leimna's voice waver's on the smith's name, but whatever she says goes unspoken. She can't, she can't do this right now, and Rulayn is okay. She is going to curl up on her cousins and perhaps get up to some of her usual mischief — later. Like tomorrow. Or in 3 hours. Or now. "WHO THE HELL TURNED OUT THE LIGHTS?" At least she still has some kind of sense of humor, even if it sounds wretched between sobs.

Chadham's lips press together for the weepy exit of the remaining cousins, not allowing his mind to dwell on familiarity or parallels as he remains crouched near the prone candidate's head, encouraged by signs of life. One hand presses to the back of Rulayn's neck as the girl groans and tries to rise, voice hushed and appropriately commanding for one of his station and profession as he utters a low, "Whoa, whoa, whoa there, it's okay, stay down, you're—" Fine. It doesn't even take particularly trained eyes to notice the pastry mash on the floor, and tawny eyes roll towards the ceiling with a low exhale. "Faranth. That girl made you sound like you were dead." Eyes dagger in what he thinks is Doktah's general direction, and then he's being DUDE'd by Vossrik, and Chadham edges away from the candidate that moves in to wrap an arm around Rulayn, bristling with as much haughtiness as professionalism will allow for the implication he'd hurt the girl. "Excuse me?" Somewhere between pastries and unwarranted defensiveness and poorly-timed Doctor Who references, the Healer is done. His free hand lifts into the air as he pushes to a stand, backing away with sticky squelches of boots on the floor. "Right. Whatever. I didn't sign up to be pranked by candidates. Don't think I won't be having a word with all of your coordinators. Kindly report to the infirmary for any real injuries." And off he goes in a snooty huff, taking his lantern with him.

"Can I report an INJURY AGAINST THE VERY NOTION OF PROGRESS AND INTELLECTAL DIGNITY to the infirmary?" Doktah is feeling a little melodramatic at the moment.

"That dude," Vossrik notes, peering over Rulayn's head, "Is a total testicle… whoa hey hey, she's fine, Lei. She's cool. Just a little banged up and covered in fruit. Just like the barracks, eh? Eh?" The brightened lighting situation reveals the panic in his face and the sweat on his brow. "No crying. It's fine. I shouldn't'a snapped just 'cause I was a little scared. You able to stand up, Roo? Gimme a hand with light, you guys. Don't wanna get lost on the way to the Infirmary." With a slight popping of knees, he stands, then flips off Chadham's back before turning the heartfelt gesture into an offered hand for the injured girl. "We can all go with you to get you checked out. Dok, you proooobably should go see and mayyyybe undo whatever, y'know, 'accident' happened."

And so, Rulayn is gradually able to grasp Vossrik's hand, although it's a struggle to stand. Eventually she's led off by whoever it is who takes her - she doesn't complain, even if that someone ends up being Leimna. Hopefully the mischief-making candidate has learnt her lesson about causing pranks and plunging the weyr into darkness?

"/Fine/." Doktah hisses. "I'll go fix the problems of this technologically retrograde backwater. /Again/." It's like once the emotional floodgates are released and her monotone ends, there is no stopping the torrent of repressed anger. Fortunately for everyone, she stomps off to constructively take her anger out on some machinery.


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