Who Lu'ka, Fioreyla
What Lu'ka has been skirting his check ups. Fioreyla stabs him with a needle (gently, of course).
When Autumn-Winter 2715
Where Central Infirmary, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Central Infirmary
This room looks fairly similar to most other infirmaries, with it's faint scent of antiseptic and an eerie quiet that goes along with convalescence. Rows of cots line both walls, each separated by a privacy screen. Breaking the line of cots along the outside wall is a entrance to the dragonhealing section of the infirmary. The far end of the oval room is filled with metal cabinets that hold the tools of the Weyrhealers trade, as well as a desk from which the healer can supervise his domain. Upon one wall rests a thick 'chart' containing the information on all patients within the infirmary.


LU'KA, YOU HAVE BEEN SUMMONED. The letter that comes on firelizard wings is cordial enough, a message from Fort's resident Journeyman Healer telling him that he's long overdue for an examination, and if he tries to reschedule this time, they will go through every possible loop and outlet they can to get him grounded so that he can find the time. The name of his appointed healer is not included, simply a date and a time to show up or beware. And that's where Fioreyla comes in, the tiny redhead having 'misplaced' a few medical supplies during her nightshift that meant she was working through her own punishment by being assigned to weyrlings that didn't have the time to see to their physical (and probably mental) wellbeing. Yeah. So there she's settled in the waiting area, knees curled up towards her chest with a book balanced on her knees; she's got her tongue between her teeth, a writing utensil in hand, and she's writing notes in the margins of printed text on pages. She's still dressed for Fort's cold despite being indoors, bundled up in a coat and a scarf with gloves to protect her hands, her hair down but for a small section that's braided and settled in a bun on the side of her head - to keep it from her face while she works, to be sure. ANNNY MINUTE NOW.

Lu'ka has used any number of very good reasons to justify why he couldn't make his appointments with the dreaded Healers. But when the threat of grounding Roth was given, the reluctant pincusion bundled up and trudged his way to the infirmary. The appointment reminder/ultimatum is clutched in his hand when and his feet drag the last few steps to take him into the infirmary. Scanning around, he spots a bundled up figure perched in a seat. Assuming she's reading while waiting for one of the healers, Lu'ka's boots thump across the floor towards the desk she's near. Another scan around for the healer on duty and the Weyrling Harper sighs. He absentmindedly slaps the messege against his leg a few times in frustration before regarding the bundled up girl. "We're you ordered to be here too?"

That's Fioreyla for you, so intent on her books (and whatever it is that she's writing) that she's forgotten she's got a job to do. That means she's as heedless of footsteps that carry reluctant weyrlings to their destinations as she is of the Journeyman Harper turned Weyrling sighing and paper-leg-slapping until he speaks to her. Fioreyla honest-to-Faranth jumps, wide violet eyes turning onto Lu'ka for just long enough to register that her book is falling. She scrambles to catch it, fails to properly grab it once, twice, and when the heavy text inevitably hits the ground (with an unnecessarily opinionated THUD), Fire goes right after it. Don't worry, Lu'ka, Fire is used to these kinds of incidents; it wouldn't be a normal day in her life if she didn't do something ridiculously discrediting to her dignity anyway. So there she is, on the floor, trying to gain her footing as she speaks a squeaky, "I'm s-so sorry. I -" A beat, as she stands, retrieves her book and her writing utensil, and settles them both on one of those chairs. "I — No. I'm -" Breathe, little Fire. "I'm Fioreyla," she finally manages, violet eyes going towards that piece of paper in Lu'ka's hands before she continues with, "S-Senior Apprentice Healer." A beat, as violet eyes find green, and Fire squeaks, "Lu'ka?"

Lu'ka is standing about two paces away from the girl's chair when he jumps like she suddenly sat on sharp pointy things. He takes a half step back as she starts scrambling about, trying to catch a book and failing. A hint of a frown that he startled the girl and looks around to see if anyone is charging up on him for it. The front area still seems empty, expcet for the two of them. By the time she gets back to her feet he's holding his hands up to show he means her no harm, the flitter messege still clutched between his fingers. Her appology and introductions brings a look of disbelief. "Oh shell, you're who I've been sent to get a checkover with?." He gives a slow nod "Yea, I'm Lu'ka. Um, nice to meet you, I suppose."

'Oh shell, you're the one I've been sent to get a checkover with?' Fioreyla's face flushes, embarrassment manifesting in shades cousin to the fire in her hair as those violet eyes drop away from Lu'ka's face to look at her hands. She wrings them once, twice, shifts on her feet, and practically cowers away from him when he introduces himself. One, two, three, and she's breathing out, "W-well met, Lu'ka. P-please, if you would f-follow me this way." And she's turning without looking back to the weyrling's face again, eyes focused on her feet as she moves through rows of empty cots towards one near the back, a range of instruments setup and ready, visible when she pulls back a privacy curtain and, mustering that quiet courage inside of her, lifts her chin, settles her eyes somewhere in the vicinity of Lu'ka's, and gestures that he should sit on the bed. "And if you c-could remove your shirt, please." LOOK AT HER TRYING TO SOUND FIRM AND FAILING SPECTACULARLY.

Lu'ka seems skeptical of the tiny red headed healer as she tells him to follow. Before his feet budge though, eyes scan around as if seeking someone else, someone, who looks a little less scared of their own shadow perhaps? No likely candidates are appearing so he takes a slow breath and follows the Apprentice along the hallway. Little messege gets scrunched up and shoved in a pocket halfway along the hallway. Stepping hesitantly past the curtain she lifts, his gaze takes in all the instruments of stabby destruction. Is it too late to flee? Probably. Besides, the ptb's will just ground Roth til Lu'ka gets this over with. "Alright." Unbundling and shrugging out of his longcoat he starts working on the shirt "Do you know about how long this will take? I'm pretty sure I'm perfectly healthy, not even a sniffle." He settles uneasily on the very edge of the bed, looking like he's ready to leap to his feet in an instant.

INCOMING FIRE SASS. "It w-won't take long." Or not. Lu'ka steps past her to the bed, and Fire pulls that privacy curtain closed, taking a moment to unwind the scarf from her neck and pull gloves from her hands to give Lu'ka the illusion of privacy while he dresses down. It's the bit about him being perfectly healthy that has Fioreyla looking up, lips setting in a way that might be determination, but somehow lacks the conviction one might expect to find. "From my understand," she begins slowly, softly, "y-you were a harper before you b-became a dragonrider - ah, c-congratulations, by the way." But what's her point? Well, the sass might not be fierce; in fact, it's so softly spoken and so lacking in ire as to be non-argumentative at all, but the subtext is clear: he's not the healer, she is, and she will make the call as to whether or not he's healthy. She pulls on sterile gloves, shifting closer to the bronzerider, and then she holds up her hands. "My hands are a l-little cold, so I'm s-sorry." She did try to warm them (hence the gloves), but there she goes, reaching for his pulse, timing it. A pause, a shift to write something down, and back she comes to the once-harper. There's soft murmurs of instructions every now and again: "Chin up," and, "Deep breaths," and, "Say 'Ahhh,'" as she massages lymphnodes in necks (stop, scribble), listens to his breathing (stop, scribble), and depresses his tongue, checking his teeth and his throat. Still, she does eventually try to make with the polite conversation while her hands work. That's… proper bedside manner, right? "A-Are you enjoying w-weyrlinghood?" comes softly, pausing for a fraction of a second so that her eyes can find his before she returns the bulk of her attention to her job. But her hands are gentle, ministrations exceedingly kind, and any potential discomfort is met with soft apology and accommodation to the best of her capabilities.

After sitting there and scanning around the room for a minute or so, at all the odd healer tools, Lu'ka starts tapping out some odd beat as if to calm his nerves. Another glance given to one of the covered machines along the side of the room and he nods to Fioreyla's comment. "I'm still a Harper, that never stopped even with Weyrlinghood." He doesn't glare or anything like that. But he does look a little wary over the process. Or maybe just having to be in the infirmary at all. Lu'ka lifts his arm when directed, and just plain doing what he can to keep everything moving quickly as Fioreyla notes down all her findings. Chin up, breath, "Ahhh.". Soon though he begins to feel like one of those runners in the auction paddock. He watches the girl while she continues to go through her checklist. At least she seem confident when working. He'll nod a moment after her question "Yea. Wasn't very pleasant at the beginning well, not til they flew actually. Alot of shoveling. But we've been learning alot."

"M-my mother told me that it was v-very strange to suddenly have another o-opinion in her mind." A brief pause, as Fioreyla leans back to seek Lu'ka's face with her eyes and offer up a muted, brief smile that's more timidly, cripplingly shy than dismissive. "Her b-blue has never spoken to me - n-no dragon has, for t-that matter, but I can see it in her e-eyes when they talk. Her expression goes s-slack." A beat, and brows knit together. "I've always pondered what it does to the brain." Maybe that was for the sake of conversation, maybe Fiore was simply voicing her opinion outloud, but whatever the case may be, Fire isn't dwelling on it. Those violet eyes are tracking green to that machine, and there's a soft huff of laughter that's somehow still manages to convey gentle, patient understanding despite the amusement. "Do you n-not like the infirmary, Lu'ka?" she asks on a whisper, grabbing one of those odd instruments and warning, "Just going to look in your ears," before she pulls a chair close, kneels on it, and leans in to do just that while waiting for his answer.

Lu'ka nods while Fioreyla scribbles down more notes "It took me a little while to get used to Roth always here." He doesn't bother tapping his head, figuring the Apprentice knows what he's referring to. "That's his name by the way. Roth." He knows she's trying to distract him with small talk, but he eyes the covered torture device warily, til he hears the young Apprentice's short laugh. A shrug given but he does shake his head a time or two. "It's not my favorite place to be, no." He gestures vaguely around the room, and all the gadgets and gizmos "All this…sorta creeps me out." He snorts in amusement though "I'am has no problem finding any reason to visit the infirmary though." He goes still as she grabs a dreaded gadget and sticks it in his ear after climbing onto a chair.

Fire nods about it taking some getting used to, having his dragon in his mind. "Roth," Fioreyla repeats back to him, around another quiet smile. "It's a s-strong name." As for his dislike of the infirmary? Well, Fire laughs again, breathy and hushed, a smile curling her lips upwards as she listens, and leans in, and looks in his ear. It's not until she's switching sides and looking at the other one that she answers. "I-It's okay. People come here when they are u-unwell, or…" Worse, she doesn't say, but she is a trauma and emergency healer, so she knows all about just how very terrifying places that combat death every day can be. "Then we p-poke you with s-sharp things, because the s-smell and the s-somber atmosphere isn't enough." Fiore draws back, violet eyes finding green. "I understand." And then she's shifting away, to scribble more information down, speaking while she writes. "I'm n-no good at dancing. I enjoy m-music, but I d-don't like to be places where you have to d-dance. It's… not my favorite place to be." She borrows his own words, moving back towards him and pulling her chair with her so that she can sit before him. "S-so I imagine it's p-probably something similar." And forward she leans, to start pressing her hands gently against his stomach. "Any discomfort?" she asks, waiting for an answer before focusing on I'am. "I r-remember him," she says, a small smile forming. "H-he's very sweet. How is he?"

Lu'ka smiles at the compliment to his dragonmate and has to nod agreeably when he's no longer got something sticking in his ear. "Yea. A dragon of few words, even for his fellow dragons." He doesn't elaborate further on that cause Fioreyla is attacking his other ear with her pointy weapon now. At least she seems to get why he doesn't wanna be in the infirmary. Finally she releases his other ear and he rubs absentmindedly. He gives her a curious look when she mentions not dancing and shakes his head at that. "You should come hear us play in the lounge sometime. You'll be dancing before you realize it." Just when he thinks he's about to be released back to his day, she starts poking at his stomach. A shake of his head "Not a bit!" A grin flashes as he gestures around the infirmary in general. "He's well, starting to spend more time with Apprentice Healer Kravit now that we will be graduating soon."

"Maybe one day I can meet him," Fioreyla says around a soft smile, and then backpedals as if realizing what she said is assumptive and rude. "I-I m-mean… b-because we are b-both in F-Fort and -" Fire's mouth opens, closes, she mumbles something indecipherable, and then turns away from him in order to grab a small swab of alcohol and shift closer again, to rub a spot free on his arm. Her face is flush again, which might explain why she's concentrating so hard on cleaning a little spot of his upper arm. That and he's GONNA GET A SHOT. "I'm… n-not very good with people, but I will c-come and watch." WHY DOES SHE DO THIS TO HERSELF. She regrets the promise the moment she makes it, but she doesn't take it back; she doesn't try to bow out or change her mind, she simply moves forward - with the exam as well! "I'm g-glad to hear that he's doing well though. I…" Can't seem to place the name Kravit, though she furrows her brows and tries. She probably knows them, but… well… no face to put the name to. "Okay. Just a s-shot, and then we're going to t-take your weight and m-measure your height, and you will be able to go."

Lu'ka nods to Fioreyla when she expresses an interest in meeting Roth at some point. She seems done with prodding at his stomach and he's looking about for his shirt, but no, she's not done torturing him yet. Frowning when she starts rubbing alcohol on his arm, quite a few dreadful potential outcomes run through his mind. None of them are good for him. He lets his eyes drift around the room, coming to rest on the hidden monster under that clothe over there. Hopefully it'll be done and overwith soon. He really, REALLY wants to leave the infirmary now. Pretty please? "Just follows your ears. We spend alot of time in the priactice room." Obviously. "And in the lounge. Haven't played so much recently, but I've a feeling some of us will be making up for lost play time soon enough." He keeps chattering on hopingto distract himself from the stabby stabby that's coming.

What kind of a healer would Fioreyla be if she didn't notice the discomfort of her patient? And she does notice it, which is why the healer is shifting to grab one of Lu'ka's hands in her own, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze (or letting him pull away, if that's what he desires), before murmuring, "I'm s-sure weyrlinghood has h-hindered your ability to make music. But you said you will be graduating soon." A stick into his arms, there as quickly as she's pulling the needle back out again. "And t-then you'll have to choose w-what you want to do, but you can be a craftrider, can't you?" If Lu'ka's still got her hand, Fiore will gently extract her fingers from his, but either way, the healer is turning away to apply a small swatch of cotton over the site with medical tape. "I-it will be sore for a c-couple of days, but the more you move your arms, the quicker the d-discomfort will go." And then she's stepping back, pulling off her gloves as she gestures towards a scale in the back, against a wall. "W-weight and height, and you're free." A timid smile, one that she directs on him for only a moment before she looks up and to the right so he can get dressed with a bit of privacy.

Lu'ka absolutely does NOT flinched when Fioreyla stabs him with that humongous needle. And if he does, well, he plays it off well enough. Probably didn't fool the healer though, since he was squeezing her fingers harder than intended. He gives a nod after a moment, "Um, yea. Hasst Wing. Will let me pretty much go back to my normal routine. Mostly." Eyeing his arm when she tapes it, the Weyrling harper works his arm a moment, nodding at her predictions, and snorting out "That shouldn't take too long then with all the training we have each day." Finally he can..wait, no, she's not done yet. Oh will this torture never end!? "No more stabbing?" Nodding and shrugging back into his shirt, he moves over to stand on the scales she goes too. Maybe it's a good thing Sephany stopped bringing all those baskets stuffed with food to the barracks.

But Fioreyla doesn't mind. The healer seems to have it down to an art, squeezing his hand back with gentle pressure to relieve the pressure on her bones while simultaneously allowing for him to squeeze harder. Likewise, the Apprentice does not flinch away from the grip he has on her, saying nothing when the shot is done and she nods politely to show she's still listening while he speaks about future wings. "I h-hope that you and y-your Roth are able to keep progressing - together." And there's a ghost of a real smile, a soft exhale of laughter that's lingering at the corners of her lips and her eyes. "N-no more stabbing," she promises, moving with him. And then there she goes! She takes his weight, records his height (with some difficulty, it requires the commandeering of another chair to stand on), and then LOOK AT THAT, he's ALL DONE. "There," Fioreyla breathes, another smile overtaking her features. "All done." But she will linger, just in case he has any questions before he gets the heck outta there.

Lu'ka tries not to be too amused when Fioreyla has to use a chair to measure his height, and covers a chuckle with a 'cough'. Not that he's coming down with anything. When she's all done, he moves to grab his gear, not running right out there as she shrugs into the longcoat. "Well, unless we get grounded before graduation all should progress properly. Showing up here today should help keep that from happening though." Settling the hooded hide coat on his shoulders comfortably, "So, was I right? Perfectly healthy?" He will stay long enough to make sure he is indeed as healthy as he thinks, since he came all this way and all.

RUDE, LU'KA. REMEMBER WHO IN THIS ROOM HAS ACCESS TO MANY SHARP AND STABBY THINGS. AND WHICH ONE OF YOU KNOWS HOW TO USE THEM. Fioreyla flushes, because she knows he's laughing at her, but she's not offended by it. She is terribly short, and he is AWFULLY TALL, and it does make for an interesting dynamic when she's got to rely on FURNITURE to reach his height. BUT WHATEVER. Fire watches Lu'ka go, gathering her scarf and gloves, replacing them on her person as those violet eyes find green and hold for his question. "I'm s-sure you will both be okay," Fioreyla offers, and then smiles. "And y-yes. You have a c-clean bill of health. Thank you for your time today, L-Lu'ka." She's scribbling final notes on his paperwork, and then tucking the clipboard it's attached to under her arm. "C-clear skies." Because unfortunately she has more work to do, and that Journeyman suddenly LOOMING IN THE DISTANCE AND STARING AT THEM WITH DISAPPROVING EYES is definitely focused on Fio (who shuffles quick, to do just that).

Lu'ka seems pleased that he really had no reason to be here, other than to be told he's fine. Her pleasant words are given a tip of his head "And thank you for putting up with an unwilling patient." He cracks a little grin and pulls his coat closer around him. "Perhaps I'll see you around the Weyr soon. You're welcome to come by the Harper Practice room anytime. There's almost always someone working on one tune or another." Another grin for that before he gives a tip of his head. "Thanks. See you around Apprentice Fioreyla." A quick wave and he vanishes out of the little room before someone thinks of some other thing that needs to be checked.


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