Day 032: Lost In Translation
Summary: Silver and Britt talk Skaikru healing methods and justice.
Date: 6/29/16
Related: None
Silver Britt Wren 


Outside the Healing House
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Day 32

It's a city, not a village. And it's full of grounders. Silver came here with Wren because she didn't want to be afraid, though, so after a couple of days in their temporary housing, surrounded by the people of Coesbur, she's ventured out into the city itself. When she heard there was actually a place where healers congregated, she made her way through the city to the healing house. She hasn't really gone inside proper - she knows her welcome is a tenuous thing. But she's found a place outside where she can watch the building and the interactions of the people around it without being in anyone's way.

It's been a few days since Britt's bandaged face was tended to. Normally she'd just go directly to her friend Arlin for it, but since he's not around, she's forced to visit the healing house directly. Not her favorite place to be, as evidenced by a faint frown lingering on her face. She happens to notice Silver loitering about outside, and her brow knits a bit. She veers in that direction, stopping a short distance away to observe, "You're Wren's girl." It's a pretty even greeting, all things considered. Neither hostile nor overly friendly.

Silver looks up at the approach, offering a faint smile. It's a careful, politely neutral sort of expression, hands clasped in her lap, that says 'I'm no threat here' without looking afraid either. "Silver," she offers in contrast to the observation, glancing between Britt and the healing house. Her Trigedasleng is halting, but at least she tries. You can't get better if you don't practice. "<In Trigedasleng> You were hurt. In Coesbur?"

"Britt kom Trikru." Hearing her own language, Britt answers in kind, speaking slowly to allow the girl to practice. "<In Trigedasleng> No. In the battle. Why are you here?" A nod towards the nearby building hopefully indicates that she means here specifically, not here in Tondc in general.

Silver hesitates at the question, catching the inside of her cheek between her teeth as she considers how to answer. "<In Trigedasleng> I want to learn how you heal," she explains. "<In Trigedasleng> Is different. Plants, not…" Grimacing, she switches back to English. "Pre-packaged and formulated drugs." A breath. "<In Trigedasleng> Our healing comes to us…cooked. Like a meal. You use what is making the meal. I want to learn."

Britt listens to the girl's careful words. "<In Trigedasleng> You are a healer, among your people? I think Wren said something once, about you helping the people in Coesbur?" Or someone did, anyway, if it wasn't Wren.

Silver nods, smile faint as she ducks her chin and looks away. "<In Trigedasleng> People were sick in the…chest?" Pausing, she mimes coughing. "<In Trigedasleng> Bad pushing on the chest. Bad breathing. Oxfor asked us to help, to show good feelings. I helped." Looking back, she takes a breath, head tipping back a little bit as she searches for the right words. "<In Trigedasleng> On the Ark, I was learning to be a healer. I was a healer, but I also fixed the machines our healers used."

Britt nods, listening with a neutral expression on her face. "<In Trigedasleng> Your healers use machines?" That seems to perplex her a bit, having no frame of reference for what sort of machines you'd use to heal people.

"Mmmhmm." Silver rubs a hand at the back of her neck, trying to think of how to describe it. "<In Trigedasleng> Most are for seeing health. Machines to tell you heartbeat, breathing, blood…Um. How strong the heart beats." She lifts a hand, opening and closing her fist like a heartbeat. "<In Trigedasleng> They tell us about the small things in the blood that tell details about what is right and wrong. Some are to fix problems with the body. Something to help make you breath if your body is too weak. To start your heart if it stops. Before- Before, I was working on an…Um. 'Implant?' Small thing that goes inside the body, to help the body…" She trails off, a flicker of frustration in her features as she searches for the words. "<In Trigedasleng> When you breathe, good air comes in and bad air goes out. If you live in space, in a small machine, with many people, sometimes you get too much bad air from people breathing out and not enough good air to breathe in. I was making a thing to help stop the body from taking too much bad air back."

Britt hears the words, but something is getting lost in translation. The archer simply has no concept for much of what Silver is talking about, as her blank look attests. Eventually she just shakes her head. "<In Trigedasleng> I don't understand these things you speak of. But.. I am not a healer." Her mouth twists wryly. "<In Trigedasleng> I am the one making them earn their keep."

Silver laughs at the last, surprised. "<In Trigedasleng> Yes, I see that," she agrees, glancing to the bandage. "<In Trigedasleng> What happened?" she asks, still a little bit cautious, but relaxing somewhat.

The laugh actually gets a tiny smile from Britt, albeit only briefly. The latter question causes her to sober up. "<In Trigedasleng> One of your Skaikru guns. At your camp. Here." She touches the bandaged cheek, just under her eye, and just watches - gauging Silver's reaction.

Silver nods slowly at first, buying herself another moment to decide how to react to that news. "<In Trigedasleng> I'm glad you made it out," she finally says, and it sounds sincere. Then she tilts her head, giving the bandage a closer look. "<In Trigedasleng> We are bad shooting." There's a cautious note of humor in the last, and she watches carefully for the reaction.

Of all the reactions, sincere well wishes and humor were clearly not what Britt was expecting. Her eyebrow shoots up a little in surprise, but then she offers a tiny smirk. "<In Trigedasleng> Not bad enough for me. I am lucky this hit a tree first." Seeing Silver examining the bandage, Britt hesitates for a moment then lifts her arms to untie the knot behind her head. The bandage falls away, revealing the injury. The wound has been cauterized, so the deep gash left by the bullet is now a thin black line of charred skin. Around it, though, there's still a lot of swelling and bruising, including an eye that's mostly swollen shut. Bits of a poultice are probably still visible either on the wound itself or on the bandage, combatting a mild infection. "<In Trigedasleng> How do your people treat such a thing?"

Silver leans a little bit closer when she takes the bandage off, though she also keeps her hands to herself and a clear distance, careful not to upset any healers who might pass by looking like she's interfering. "<In Trigedasleng> Heat helps, some," she says, looking closely. "<In Trigedasleng> But only a little. Too much can make it hard for the skin to close. You need a little open," she points out, nodding toward the still red spots. "<In Trigedasleng> To let the bad parts out. But our way is not a lot different. Sewing, instead of burning. Or if burning, with very small, careful tools."

Britt nods slightly. It's probably apparent that she wants to open the swollen eye and use it, and its lack of cooperation is both distracting and frustrating to the archer. "<In Trigedasleng> They use heat," she says, nodding toward the healers. "<In Trigedasleng> Herbs and a salve. Does not sound so different. Though this is the only tool we use for burning." Grimacing she touches the hilt of the dagger on her belt. She tilts her head then to regard the younger woman curiously. "<In Trigedasleng> Why have you come here? To Tondc, I mean, instead of your Sky Ark camp?"

Silver laughs softly at the question, though there's no humor in the sound this time. "<In Trigedasleng> They used me to hide their crimes. They lied to me for two years. Then they dropped me here, without any choice, without knowing anything. But also?" She half-turns, looking out toward the city. "<In Trigedasleng> This is where we live now. Here. On Earth. The Ark was already dying in the sky. And you are all angry at us already." The last comes with mingled frustration and disappointment…perhaps at herself. "<In Trigedasleng> To stay there, I let them make my decisions for me. And if you decide we are bad, if you decide to attack us, it is the same as it was where our ship fell. We will lose. We will die. I don't want to die hiding in a box because someone else made choices."

Britt listens, giving a quiet nod in response. "<In Trigedasleng> Your people speak of us as savages, when they kill for the slightest of crimes, or send a vanguard of untrained youths to die on a hostile planet." She offers a disapproving frown. "<In Trigedasleng> It makes no sense to me. But what do you mean, they hid their crimes?"

Silver sighs at the question, settling back into her corner and tucking her hair behind her ear. "<In Trigedasleng> One of the healers had a sick mate. She thought the thing I was making could save him. She put it into him. But it wasn't ready, and he died. When it was found, they said I had done it. Because of our laws, if she said she did it, she would have been killed. But because I was only sixteen, I could go into…Um. They could make me a prisoner, and when I turned eighteen, they might let me go. Then there would still be two healers, instead of one dead trained healer and one half-trained girl healer. It…" She trails off, frowning as she looks away. "<In Trigedasleng> I believed it was what was best for everyone, so I stayed quiet. She was trying to save her mate. She didn't want him to die. She could still help other people."

Britt frowns at Silver's tale. "<In Trigedasleng> That is cruel. And your camp acted like Sonia was a barbarian for wanting seven to pay for the loss of seven hundred." She just shakes her head. "<In Trigedasleng> I understand why you would not wish to go back there."

Wren has arrived.

Silver looks back up when Britt mentions Sonia, curious. "<In Trigedasleng> It wasn't the asking for seven. It was that we didn't hurt that village. It would be like…"

Silver's found an out of the way spot near the healing house, a place where she can stalk her prey, so to speak. Which is to say, a place where she can watch the healers at work and see if any of them seem less inclined to stab her in her sleep.

"<In Trigedasleng> If someone from Coesbur came here and tried to steal a horse, and the horse instead ran into the market and tore down stalls and started a fire that burned down houses, who would you be angry at?"

Britt is talking with Silver, apparently not inclined to stab her in her sleep. Or at all really. She even took off the bandage on her face to show the curious Skaikru healer the ugly, swollen wound. She does frown a touch at Silver's example though. "<In Trigedasleng> The thief caused the fire, but indirectly. Would you let them off scot free?"

If Wren were to go looking for Silver, mostly to make sure she's still alive, where would he go looking? The healing house is the obvious first place to look. And upon stepping inside, he pauses, catching sight of her and, strangely, Britt. He doesn't look to intrude just yet, rather appearing like he's going to sit and listen. She did tell him that she wanted to handle stuff on her own without his interference, he'll let her.

Silver nods, still steady. "<In Trigedasleng> And what if the thief was killed when the horse broke out?" Doubtless she's building an argument of sorts, but there's a genuine curiosity beneath the questions as well. She doesn't seem to have noticed Wren yet, focused on the person in front of her.

Britt hasn't noticed Wren, since he's in her blind spot. One eye is still badly swollen, nearly completely shut. Britt shakes her head. "<In Trigedasleng> You are looking at it the wrong way. What if you didn't know who the thief was? Three were with the horse. One was killed, one ran off, one was caught. The one that was caught will say, naturally, that it was the others, even if he is the guilty one. How do you know?"

Oh, they're philosophising Thripoda. This might be interesting. So yeah, the big man is just going to hang in the doorway, listening on the two of them, not giving any imput. Not yet anyways. He might eventually, but he's strangely not being noticed as of yet. Might as well watch and see what happens.

"<In Trigedasleng> We have a…" Silver pauses, trying to figure out the word, then shakes her head. "<In Trigedasleng> A listening? 'Trial.' A chance for the person who was caught to explain. But it is for the people saying he did it to prove that he did. To ask people who were in the stables what did they see. To explain how they know, for certain, that he did it. Does he know how to let the horse out? Is he strong enough to open the door? If they have no way to show that he did it, then he is free."

Britt nods. "<In Trigedasleng> Our way is not so different, when one is speaking of a horse and a thief. When we talk of nations and war, though, it is a different beast. If the Azgaeda were to come down and burn one of our villages, then our clan would consider it an act of war. It is for them to prove to us if it was a accident, or a thief who went against their kruheda and knocked over a torch."

"<In Trigedasleng> The truth is a tricky thing." Wren finally pipes up, who had been leaning against the doorway, watching for what appears to be a bit now. "<In Trigedasleng> And the truth can be different things depending on one's point of view. Does that make their own truth wrong? Who's to say? But wars over accidents are not as rare as people would like to think. If one looks back far enough in history, a great many conflict occur over a mistake. Or accident. People sometimes don't want to listen to that. Because it helps them sleep better at night. That they are in the right. That they are justified. And that people, most people anyways, hate the idea of being humbled. Sometimes, it boils down to little more than a matter of ego. The urge to be 'right' sometimes trumps the truth."

Silver nods slowly, pensive. "<In Trigedasleng> What if it had been done without the knowledge of their kruheda? Would you still ask for them to give their people to die, for something they didn't do? Couldn't control? Would you ask it of a far away village instead of asking the kruheda?" She shakes her head, quiet. "<In Trigedasleng> I think I understand why she asked. I know I understand how bad what happened was. But we couldn't do it. Not with what we knew and didn't know." As Wren chimes in, she looks toward the big guy, smile softening. "<In Trigedasleng> Don't worry, I'm not dead yet."

Britt jumps a little when Wren pipes up, having still not noticed him lurking over there. "<In Trigedasleng> Wren. You startled me." She glances back to Silver then. "<In Trigedasleng> I understand why you did not wish to accept Sonia's terms. But do you realize that in not accepting it, far more than seven of your people died? And you have killed even more of our people, and still not fully resolved the matter with the kruheda." She shakes her head. "<In Trigedasleng> What's done is done. I still think it's hypocritical of those who consider us savages for wanting justice for Thripoda, when you kill your own people for far less. Even things they did not do." That last said with a pointed nod toward Silver.

"<In Trigedasleng> Could you look seven people in the face and tell them to die for something they believed they didn't do?" Wren asks Britt, staying where he is. "<In Trigedasleng> And even if they did, that skaigeda would've fallen into chaos and would've done our job for us. Maybe that was Sonia's plan to begin with. If so, it would've been a cunning one. Letting your enemy kill each other which would then result in less losses for your own forces. Tactically, it's not a bad idea." There's a light shrug. "<In Trigedasleng> We're all hypocrites in our own ways, Britt. Some more than others. That is simply human apart of the human condition to be so. Them. Us. None are exempt from it. If we were not, likely the Dark Times would've never happened and they wouldn't of been put into the Sky. And these ruins would still be standing in their former glory. We either accept that or…well, there is no other option. We simply accept it."

"<In Trigedasleng> I do understand," Silver nods to Britt. "<In Trigedasleng> And I hate it. I am not a warrior," she says with a rueful glance to Wren. "<In Trigedasleng> I didn't want anyone to die. If we had believed that handing over seven people would have been the end of it…maybe we would have made a different choice. But we had no way to know." At the last, though, she shakes her head. "<In Trigedasleng> And I don't think you're savages. You're just…people. People with different…" Losing the words, she moves a hand in front of herself from high to low like going down steps. "Priorities. Values. Because this?" She gestures around herself, then switches back to Trigedasleng. "<In Trigedasleng> This is a different world from ours."

Britt shifts her gaze to Wren. "<In Trigedasleng> I did look them in the face and ask them to die for something they believed they didn't do," she points out flatly. "<In Trigedasleng> Not because it was right, or just, but because it was the best way to save their friends. Because that was the reality they faced. You may believe that everyone is a hypocrite, but I don't." She shrugs, then looks back to Silver. "<In Trigedasleng> We come from different worlds, yes. Hopefully we may yet find a way to live in peace."

Wren looks nonplussed. "<In Trigedasleng> I simply try to look at things from both sides of a situation. I try to remain objective, that's all. Seven dying for Sonia would not of stopped the kurheda, and I'm fairly certain that is why they decided not to. Had that stopped the fighting entirely, I think there would've been volunteers, but oddly, I think the act of doing do may of prevented any chance of peace. That battle /needed/ to happen. Whether it was some days ago or months from now, it was bound to happen. And maybe I'm pessimist for thinking that, but there you are. In the end, I think it being done and over with puts in a better position for peace, as odd as it may sound."

"Wren," Silver says softly, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "<In Trigedasleng> She's right. It's done. We made choices. Maybe they were right, maybe they were wrong. We worked with what we had. But now? Now we have a little bit of time, which means we can learn, and we can make better choices later." She looks back to Britt's eye, still cautious. "<In Trigedasleng> If it's still big tomorrow, it might need to be cut open," she offers. "<In Trigedasleng> Just a little bit. To let the extra out."

Britt frowns at Wren's words, though the contortion of her injured face causes a wince to compound the expression. "<In Trigedasleng> Do not lecture me, Wren. You weren't there." She lets it drop, though, when Silver echoes the thought of what's done is done. The thought of cutting her face open gets an are you crazy Skaigirl type of look from the archer. But she just nods to the advice. "<In Trigedasleng> Speaking of… I'd best go and have it tended. If you'll excuse me."

It's only at this point that Wren actually looks annoyed. "I wasn't-" he shakes his head. "Doesn't matter." And he turns to just leave the building.

Silver's smile quirks briefly at the look from Britt, but she doesn't say anything. Likely, she trusts the healers inside will tell her the same thing. "<In Trigedasleng> Thank you for talking with me," she nods politely to the archer. "<In Trigedasleng> I hope it heals well." As Britt leaves, she holds a hand out to Wren, crooking a finger. "Wren? Was everything okay?"

Britt inclines her head to Silver and then heads into the healers. Who hopefully will keep their daggers to themselves.

Irritated, Wren stops when Silver asks for him, perhaps hoping to of escaped before she noticed that he had left. "I tire of arguing with her." he says, watching Britt leave. "Every single damn moment, it's arguing and debating and I don't enjoy being looked at like a second head has suddenly grown out of my shoulder. You and Kai have been doing a much better job at getting along with people than I have. And maybe I'm just getting…doesn't matter."

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