Logs:Seeking Help
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| RL Date: 1 April, 2015 |
| Who: H'vier, Tess |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'vier finally seeks the help so many agree he needs for his anger issues; Fortian mindhealer Tess is convinceable, if not overly eager. H'vier's not sure he wants the help by the end. |
| Where: Infirmary and Living Cavern, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 6, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Lilah/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated! |
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| It's a normal afternoon around lunchtime in the Fort Weyr infirmary. As per usual for the lunch hour, things are a little slow, with most of the attendants having slipped off to get their own lunch. Tess' slender form half-reclines in the chair at the desk where people are received when they first arrive. Her chair is leaned back on its hind legs, the knotless healer practicing her balance with some small part of her attention, while the rest seems to be directed to the leatherbound book in her lap. Just another day. Another shift in the infirmary. H'vier is not a common presence in Fort Weyr, and while a regular visitor of various infirmaries, this one is only being graced with his presence for possibly the first time ever just now. He clears his throat, meaningfully, before getting right down to, "I'm looking for Journeyman Tess. Is she on duty?" Surely, H'vier was told that Tess is young, but she's also youthful. Her hair is in two plaits today which makes her look even more so, so it would be reasonable to doubt her answer of, "Yes," then, "can you-- just-- one-- no, three seconds," she requests without looking up, her eyes scanning the page of her book with greater urgency. In three seconds (or five, roughly), she sighs contentedly and closes the book, offering up a warm smile for the foreigner. "Now," as if he hadn't already told her, "how can I help you, sir?" The only answer H'vier has for being made to wait is an agitated rumble and a clenched jaw. There's nothing but thinning patience for the warm smile he's offered after those seconds have passed. "You can fetch the Journeyman for me." He even looks up and past her as though he expects the woman to appear by his will. "Alright," Tess says agreeably. She waits a breath and then, "Done. What can I do for you, sir?" By his will, she has appeared! "I'm Jourenyman Tess," the smile has still only warmth, not judgment. H'vier? Unamused. "You're Journeyman Tess." It's incredulous, but not exactly a question. "There must have been some misunderstanding. The Hall said you were capable." And she's clearly a child, so that can't be true. Tess is patient; it's one of her many fine qualities. She leans a little toward him, letting her fingertips splay on the desk as she just barely touches it. The pose is one of a woman imparting a secret. She asks, "Did you ask them for a capable journeyman who likes to read smutty harper novels at lunch or just capable one who volunteers for the lunch shift so her fellows can eat at a reasonable time?" "No." At first it seems like that might be the only thing H'vier will say. But then, "I asked for one who could help me, not one who would make me want to indulge my anger." Tess' smile doesn't vanish but it does become something less playful. "Ah," is said more soberly as she straightens. "That kind of capable." She lets her eyes run across the bronzerider thoughtfully. "Would you say you're in more need of help than a good lay?" That... gives H'vier obvious pause. His gaze shifts down to take in what he can of her, but he doesn't seem sure how to answer the question. "Are you offering to fuck me?" Because, well, he might not be opposed to this idea. "Perhaps," Tess answers without any trace of embarrassment. "But really, I'm asking you the question." She's watching him with perhaps unnerving evenness now. "Would you say you're more in need of help than a good lay?" Then she holds up a slender finger to make plain this difference, "Not which would you prefer, which are you more in need of." "If a lay was enough, I wouldn't be here in the first place." H'vier isn't exactly suffering from a lack of company. Though he still sounds like he'd probably prefer to have her in his bed. "Shame," Tess says briefly, before dipping to grab her shoulder bag and rounding the desk. "Do you have time for lunch?" She inquires of the bronzerider with a pleasant smile. The smile is almost immediately redirected to the entering infirmary aide, whose greeted with a wiggle of fingers. "I'll be back in a half hour," she tells the young man before stepping toward the door, perhaps assuming H'vier will follow if, for no other reason than that he probably doesn't want to discuss his needs in front of anyone else. He doesn't have a chance to answer the question, which seems to agitate him just noticeably. But when Tess starts to take her leave, H'vier finds himself following after her with an annoyed grumble under his breath. At least he follows in silence, otherwise, instead of attempting to share his mind with her. It's once Tess has a tray with only enough food to keep a lamb alive on it and she's selected one of the two seater tables in the living cavern that she gives her full attention to the bronzerider. The cavern is noisy. It's toward the end of lunch, but still with so many people eating and many moving in and out and through, it's unlikely that they'll be overheard in any meaningful way. "Now first things first," she says matter-of-factly. "What's your name and why should I help you, wingleader?" H'vier only grabs something to drink and a meatroll that's gone before he sits down across from the young woman. He considers the question before answering at least the last bit of it, "You should help me because you're a healer. And that's what you do, isn't it?" "I am a healer," Tess agrees, as she spears leafy greens with her fork. "I'm a healer at Fort Weyr, assigned to assist the weyrfolk here. You are not," she indicates his knot and badge with an airy swirl of that loaded fork, "from Fort Weyr. Which would make helping you something I'd have to do on my personal time. So, what makes your case interesting enough that I should take you on as a client in my precious leisure time?" There's a pause, "If I am going to help you, I'm going to have to know more about why you're here eventually, right?" As though this might help motivate him to find more words to offer her. Funny how he hasn't been very thrilled with any of her answers, and yet he's still sitting here. "H'vier. Bronze Reisoth's." With his name out of the way, and the person who was walking too close to the table passing and continuing on, "I have... difficulty controlling my temp-- myself, at times. I hit things. People." Just the sort of thing every woman wants to hear, healer or not, no doubt! "Mm, and you've seen someone before?" Tess asks, thoughtful. At least she hasn't outright dismissed him, though the thoughtfulness only lasts a moment before she asks, "How does your dragon feel about your difficulty?" Then she goes back to eating her greens. "Not exactly," admits the bronzerider with a frown. Or did H'vier ever stop frowning to begin with? "He's... it depends. Sometimes he doesn't pay it any mind. He knows who I am. Other times he's, I suppose, frustrated. He doesn't have my same difficulties." "What's the worst thing you've ever done because of your difficulties?" Tess asks as though she were asking him his favorite kind of vegetable, though she does look up to watch his face. H'vier starts to open his mouth as though to answer, but then he pauses. That answer wouldn't the truth. "I don't think it's appropriate to talk about that here, Journeyman." Here in the open living cavern, whether they're being listened to or not. "Okay," Tess says it like she amicably agrees. Then she goes on eating. Interview over? He watches her for a time, but his patience doesn't allow him to wait for her to finish. "Is there someone else," anyone else? "you could recommend that might be more willing to help me, Journeyman?" H'vier must assume that this is a lost cause. "Not when you're not committed to the effort." Tess tells him matter of factly. "I am committed, woman. I wouldn't have come to see you if I weren't." H'vier probably thinks this sounds like a better argument than it really does. She holds up a single finger, one, "Tess," not woman. The cool, collected calm of the look she turns on the foreign bronzerider has no tolerance for that kind of thing. Two, "If you want my help, you'll tell me why now? What did you do that makes you want help now?" That question is one he's more willing to answer, but H'vier still hesitates to study the woman. The Tess. "It's been a build up. I've lashed out at people who are important to me, some of whom are no longer a consistent part of my life." It sounds like it isn't what he wanted. "Most recently, I broke a man's nose for being a dick. At the party to celebrate the clutching of the eggs my lifemate recently sired." The last sentence is kind of an afterthought, like he's not sure it's actually relevant. Tess doesn't bat an eye under his consideration; clearly, his opinion of her means nothing, such is her personal confidence. His answer seems to appease her enough to ask, after her own moment of weighing his story, "And what exactly do you hope to accomplish with my help?" This at lease means she's still willing to put it on the table for continued negotiation. His jaw tightens and H'vier looks away just long enough to not want to flip the table into Tess' face. See how much she's already helping! "I want to have better control over my temper. So I don't hurt people unless I well and truly mean to hurt them." There's a beat of silence while Tess finishes chewing and swallows. Then she flashes him a smile. "Progress." She tells him, pleased. "Alright, rider. I'll take you on. You come to me and when my schedule allows for it." Then she leans forward as though she were telling a secret, but instead of tell, it's ask: "Why not just see someone at the Hall? They even take walk-ins." Why her? "The Hall is more official than I'd prefer for this to be." Maybe H'vier should have mentioned that sooner? "The fewer people who know about it, the better." It also explains why the healers at High Reaches are less than ideal. "I'd like for this to stay between us. For now." Maybe forever. "I see. So you'll find some pretense to be seen coming and going from here and being seen with me?" Tess asks with raised brows, expression otherwise unreadable. "If we do it in your quarters, I'm fairly sure the pretense will be made for us." H'vier must just expect her to go along with this idea. Who would have a problem with people thinking they're sleeping with him, after all? He's a catch. "Oh, no," Tess answer him blandly but firmly. "That won't do. As it happens, I'm as pure as morning dew." Nevermind that she might have been considering a liaison before he talked so much (and became client not prospective lover). "So that won't do. You'll need another pretense. Do you have any friends in Fort?" The look H'vier gives her suggests 'bullshit' without him having to say a word. It probably means something that he doesn't just say it out loud. Maybe that he's unhappy and doesn't want to risk saying something worse. When he does speak, it's simply, "No." Tess gives H'vier a look that suggests she dares him to try her, without saying so. "Perhaps you should make some, to do your part. And I will do mine by finding us a private place to meet. We'll schedule for the next meeting at the end of each. If something changes, you'll leave me word in the infirmary, yes?" It's not a question, she's just asking if he understands the terms and conditions of her service. Given that it's not really a question, H'vier doesn't really answer. It's probably not polite to growl at people, but that's basically what he does. He's staring at her unhappily, however, so he must understand the terms and conditions. Otherwise he wouldn't know to be unhappy about them. Tess clears her throat, "H'vier," she addresses him politely, "ours is a business of words. If you cannot choose to use them to express yourself, you might wish to rethink whether or not this is the correct route for your self-improvement." Then she's rising and picking up her tray. "I don't have time this next seven. Perhaps the following. Stop by the infirmary next seven and I'll have left a note for you with my schedule." She starts to step away, and then pauses, rocking back onto the foot she just stepped off of, "Actually, you might try making friends with Lilah. Certainly no one could fault you," then a pause, "But actually friends, H'vier, not just using her to cover up your illicit meetings with me." H'vier doesn't use anymore words, though. Not until Tess pauses to say the last of it. His brow furrows, like he's not sure he likes the specific suggestion. "I'm sure many people could fault me for associating with a foreign goldrider," he counters. But it's not really arguing. He doesn't rise, probably waiting until she takes her leave to go about his business. "Fine," he says, though. Fine, he'll try to make a friend. "And many people wouldn't bat an eye. But either way Lilah is worth befriending." Tess adds after a moment's thought. "Just don't hit her. Or anyone. For at least the next month. If you manage, I'll see to it there's a reward for you." She flashes him a smile that probably isn't actually suggestive. Then she's walking off, hips swaying, totally unintentionally. Between the smiling that probably isn't actually suggestive and the swaying hips, the reward seems a little suggestive. Enough that H'vier watches Tess as long as she's in view before letting his gaze scan those nearest. And a short time after that, the bronzerider is rising to take his leave. |
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