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.
It's afternoon in Fort, that slow-down time between lunch and dinner when the LC becomes less of a cafeteria, and more of a communal place to hang out and catch a fifteen (twenty, thirty, two hour…) minute Klah break. Which is exactly what Risner is doing. Having commandeered a table for himself, he lounges in his chair with his feet in another, a mug of something-or-other in his hands. He's just relaxing the day away.
Pralius enters the caverns from the bowl, perusing a file as he absently commandeers a mug of klah and moves to the far side of the room. His usual bright clothing sequestered behind his white lab coat. Clearly, this is just a short break for him, too.
"Anything interesting?" Risner wonders aloud, peeking curiously towards that file. "Oh wait, would that break that patient-healer confidentiality thing?" He grins easily, takes a sip from his mug, and sighs happily.
Pralius snaps the file closed before Risner can see much that makes any sense, "Yes, it would. Just pondering whether this patient has a cold or something more serious." He takes a sip from his mug and smiles, "Pralius, healer." He offers a hand, having quickly learned that it's best to be social in the weyrs.
Risner throws his hands up in defence (one holding to his mug carefully) at the snapped file. "Hey, I wasn't gonna read anything. I can't make heads or tails of that healer mumbo-jumbo anyways." It's clear he's not really offended or anything, and is soon back to relaxed mug sipping. "Risner. Bartender. Betcha we know a few of the same people," he decides, grinning. "They probably come see me first, then go to you for their hangover cure."
Pralius slips the file under one arm an dnods, taking another sip of klah, "Pleasure to meet you, now I know who to blame when a rider's green is proddy and they get drunk."
Risner laughs heartily, but shakes his head. "Hey now, you can't blame the bartender just because someone can't say no. 'Sides, if you ask me, a rider with a proddy green deserves to get wasted. I've heard a few stories. Some of those greens seem to be downright mean!" He grins, takes another sip, and shrugs.
Pralius shrugs, "Yeah, but when the green goes while they're seeing me for a cure, /that/ I can blame you for." He grins, showing no hard feelings, "One second I'm adding willow to fellis, the next I'm surrounded by horny riders." He shudders slightly, "Not the best part of working in a Weyr."
Risner holds up the fingers of his hand and shrugs. "Hey, when in a Weyr…" he starts, grinning. "Does that mean you're not weyrbred? I've been living with this for Turns. And thing of this - you might get one greenrider in your Infirmary, but I get then /all/ in my bar."
Pralius chuckles, "I'm weyrbred, but I left Telgar when I was 12, so I guess I'm more susceptible now… and I don't like it when they finish up still in the infirmary… I have apprentices scrubbing for /days/." He chuckles again, "Still, I don't envy you either, the bar fights must be horrible."
"They can be, yeah," Risner admits, grimacing. "Hard, too, when it's two real big guys. I mean, I might be tall, but there's no strength to these arms!" He lifts his arm and flexes, comically. "Yeah. Thankfully most of the dragonriders know how to keep it together. Think it has something to do with a dragon in their head. And most of them will jump in and help break up the fights. It's not so bad, you know? It's the country bars that get real rough."
Pralius nods, "I understand that most riders are reasonable folks?" Then he shrugs, "Still, I've treated some broken noses already… maybe it's the weather." He winks at the other lad.
"Most of them," confirms Risner, but he winks and adds, "But 'most' is the operative word there, bud." He slides from his chair, downs the rest of his klah, and sets the mug on the table. "Hey, as long as you don't have to treat this nose, I'm good." He flashes Pralius a smile. "Back to work I go. Good luck with that, ah… patient." And off he goes, heading through the LC and back into Shenanigans.
