workthroughit | Follow-Up Appointment [For Harrowheart, Viatorus, Steve]

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Follow-Up Appointment [For Harrowheart, Viatorus, Steve]

The office is just where it's always been, and thankfully, there's no mind tricks that hide it from view this time. There between the glassware shop and the pharmacy is a sturdy polished door with an embossed brass nameplate bolted to the wall next to it: DR. ALAN J. HILL, MD, MPH.

Stepping inside leads to a nicely-furnished waiting room; handsome dark wooden furniture, comfy red upholstered sofas, a decent selection of Nexus magazines laid out for those looking to kill some time before their appointment. (Titles include CHOWDOWN, the leading reviews of Nexus restaurants and bars, SERVOS, a periodical for the robotic denizens of the Nexus, and WHOOPS!, a guide and advice publication focusing on LOLs, curses and similiar.) Soothing classical music is piped in by a speaker resting up on top of a bookshelf. There's no receptionist or desk designated for such. The door to the doctor's office is closed.

But after a certain point, the door opens and one of the poor mixed-up boys is called in. Looks like we're going about this one by one.

The office space is a warmly lit by streaming sunlight through a window opposite of the door. Despite the office being ground level in the Nexus, the window is clearly looking down from second floor vantage, overlooking a park and busy thoroughfare. The weather is sunny with a bit of cloud cover with no sign of snow. It looks to be a nice spring day, honestly. Out of place and strange with the cold and wintery look of the Nexus as of late.

Floor to ceiling bookshelves, an old fashioned victrola softly playing Bach, stained wood filing cabinets, a three-sectioned painting of a distinctly religious (rather demonic) nature, the familiar desk that often shows up along with the doctor in the Nexus. The banker's light, the metronome, the nameplate. The doctor himself is seated there, hands folded on the desk and wearing a smile.

After a gesture towards the open chair opposite of him, he asks, "So! Where shall we begin?"

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Unfortunately, with there being three people and a need to maintain confidentiality, a waiting room was necessary this time around. No going right to the office like last time, Viatorus!

The admonishment is not what Dr. Hill is expecting and the surprise is plain on his face before it gives way to a laugh. "Hah! Ahh, Mr. Durant, always the one to be concerned with formalities. I admit I may have been caught up the nature of the Nexus and how it tends to spring things on people. And sometimes a little spontaneity is good for you! And how many would have passed on this experience if given the chance? Would you have?"

Viatorus holds his reproachful expression for as long as he can. Though he turns a little sulky at the doctor's question. "Well. Yes. I wouldn't have volunteered."

"B-But there's a good reason!" He stammers into defending himself before he gets flustered. A hand cuts through the air in a strong, decisive motion and then pulls back to fidget with his other hand. "It was dangerous, and... and people could have gotten hurt. Steve is... the only one equipped to take care of this body. A-And Harrowheart..." The mixed feelings on the death knight give him pause. Then he blinks and regains his train of thought. "Harrowheart is the only one able to control the power he has. I... I'm the only one who understands the dangers of slipping up on little things."

In summary, he declares a certain, "We should all have stayed firmly in our own bodies."

"Perhaps." The doctor pulls a considering face and part of a shrug. "But everything you've just said sounds suspiciously to me like you've learned something about these other two. The frailties and everyday struggles of Mr. Rogers and his illnesses. The raw power Harrowheart possesses and has to tame. Things I don't think anyone could have the proper understanding or appreciation of if this hadn't happened."

"I would rather have guessed," he promptly says before he can stop himself. He takes a moment to swallow down the guilt at how rude his statement it and then gathers his thoughts. "I don't think I needed to... to feel it. To experience it. Death. And illness."

A minute passes and he frowns, eyes flickering back and forth across the wood of the doctor's desk. "What am I meant to say to them? How am I meant to talk to them now? Knowing things that are so intimate, so personal. Knowing that I wouldn't want to be either of them." Frustration raises his voice a notch. "And not knowing anything that could help them."

"Well, we're back to the start of this all, aren't we? Empathy. We can never properly claim that we understand another's struggle until we've walked a mile in their shoes. You've realized that both of these men deal daily with very serious issues. Issues completely removed from your own.

"Do you think they feel the same way? I'd imagine that being in your shoes was jarring for them as well. Seeing the things you have to do daily that are simply part and parcel of being you that are matters they'd sooner not deal with. Things you might take for granted. Better the devil you know, eh?"

Dr. Hill chuckles and leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. Between the moment he started talking and this moment, a cup of tea has appeared on the desk in front of Viatorus. Someone recalls how readily he accepted and appreciated it last time.

"I don't think not wanting to be them is particularly rude, Mr. Durant. It's just acknowledgement of how profound their distinct issues are. And perhaps how strong they are for dealing with them on the daily, hm?"

"I never doubted that they were strong." Perhaps. Maybe. The questions and prompts get a little frown from him. Initially he ignores the cup of tea, but with thoughts soon filling his head, he soon takes it up in his hands. Something familiar to work with. Something comforting.

"We weren't sure you were going to turn us back," he starts up, deflecting further reflection. Delaying it, at least. "Or when you would. It could have been months. We didn't know."

Taking a sip of tea, he continues, "We all ended up at my family manor. Not where I wanted to be. Certainly not where I wanted them to be. It would have been nice to know how needless it all was. Meeting my family might have been more traumatic for them than swapping bodies."

"Oho! Got to meet the parents, huh? Did you inform them of your situation or did you all attempt to play your parts? I suppose if that were the case, you should get all of you extra points for effort. Being one another is quite different from actually acting as one another."

Dr. Hill has some tea of his own now, the saucer in one hand, the cup in the other. "I had and have every intention of putting you all back in your proper places, fear not. Perhaps I should have stressed that, you're correct. But do you feel at all that this has perhaps brought you closer together? Or do you think being so intimate with Steve and Harrowheart's struggles will only make interaction awkward from here on out? Can't look someone in the eyes after you've caught them with their pants down and all."

"We stayed quiet and tried to play our parts. It was mortifying," he adds with a small shudder and strategic sip of tea. "Steve hated it. Though I think Harrowheart might have actually enjoyed it a little."

The assurance that they're all going to be put back into their bodies earns a relieved sigh. A relief that doesn't last long though, because the doctor is soon asking awkward questions again. He looks down at his cup. At the hands holding the cup.

"I... don't know," he says honestly. "Steve... Steve and I... I understand him better now. Perhaps it will be easier. I'm more used to being the weak, helpless one than he knows... and now I know, truly, how he feels. How strong he has to be all the time. What kind of fire and life that takes to be that strong for so long... It's hard to say. I don't know what he thinks. Maybe he'll think now that I'm just a rich, snobby man with lots of houses."

"For what it's worth, you hardly strike me as 'snobby'. Sometimes it's hard for people in lower social classes to think sympathetically of those higher up. But he's been in your shoes just as you've been in his. You're a gentle soul in a very stringent environment, saddled by a great many responsibilities and expectations. I'd be shocked if he didn't see that about you now and feel for you because of it."

"I don't know." He shakes his head and sets the cup down, using his now free hand to run one through his hair. It's odd. Everything disproportionate to the touch. "I don't know anything. That's what I'm learning more and more. The more I get to know people, the more I realise that I know nothing."

"I used to think Steve was really shy, but he can be strong and confident when he needs to be. Even though his body is weak, he... he has a power in him." Viatorus goes quiet and looks down at the small hands fidgeting in ways they don't usually. "And Harrowheart... I thought..."

He sighs and pulls the cup back onto his lap. "Oh, I don't know what I thought."

"Everything said here is kept confidential, remember that." Just a gentle reminder in case Viatorus is worrying that things are gonna get back to the other two. For all the tricky things he does, Dr. Hill will always consider patient/doctor confidentiality sacrosanct.

"I think realizing that you always have more to learn is an important lesson indeed. Especially when we have exposure and access to a place like the Nexus. Hundreds of worlds with walks of life and morals so different from our own. It doesn't do anyone any favours to ever grow complacent and think you've gotten it all figured out. Because that is certainly never the case."

A moment's consideration before he ventures, "You sound like you've developed some complicated thoughts or emotions towards our friend, Harrowheart."

While the doctor speaks about being sensitive to other people's situations, Viatorus nods and sips his tea quietly. This, he agrees with, even if he'd rather not have had the lesson instilled in him in such a harsh way. What's done is done. At least he's gained some useful knowledge from it.

Then it's back to an uncomfortable topic. Viatorus frowns and stares at the cup. It clatters against the saucer as he begins to fidget with it. "He was kind to me. When I was in his body, and I turned into a worgen. He was kind to me."

His mouth twitches and he ducks his head even further. "But when we were trying to fix it, and everyone was getting stressed... Steve was angry, the Necromancer was stubborn... Isidor couldn't... couldn't calm everyone down at once. I couldn't breathe, and... and Harrowheart got everyone to be quiet by..." He swallows hard, twists the cup some more. "By threatening to kill my body. With my magic. Because the Necromancer had to be quiet then."

For a long moment he's quiet, and when he does finally speak, it's softly. "He might have been bluffing, but... but Harrowheart does magic. He knows how dangerous magic is. Knows how it's tied to emotions. Two minutes before that he'd accidentally done magic in my body. If he'd panicked... he could have... he might have... And yet he still..."

Viatorus swallows hard and forces himself to sip his tea instead of looking at the doctor.

"You nearly witnessed the death of your own body from a position where you'd have been helpless to stop it," Dr. Hill sums up calmly. "And you fully realize that Harrowheart could have misfired, even if he'd not meant to ever hurt you. A terrible brush with death from a moment of crushing helplessness. I don't blame you a bit for being shook up."

Dr. Hill takes up a small silver spoon resting on his saucer, stirring his tea as he thinks. "You believe he was being reckless, one way or another. With something that he had no right to be reckless with."

"It was like dying didn't bother him. Like it was such an easy option." He sniffs a little and shakes his head. "He'd been such a friend to me. But he was so quick to hold my body hostage. I... I wonder if it e-even... even mattered that I was there. Right there. He... He didn't... didn't even hesitate."

His fingers pinch the saucer for a minute. "How... How could he... he treat a friend like that? Or... maybe... m-maybe I wasn't a friend at all. Maybe I... I really meant so little. I was useful. Expendable. Replaceable."

"To be fair, Mr. Durant, he's someone who's already tasted death. It might seem like a very small concern to him overall. What's death when you can be reanimated and brought back even stronger? Hm. What indeed." The spoon is tapped on the edge of the cup a few times with a series of delicate 'ding' sounds, and then set back on the saucer.

"What drove him to make such a threat?"

That is not a reassuring thought. Viatorus doesn't say as much, only pulls his mouth into a thin line and stays staring into his tea.

"Um. My cousin, the, um, the Necromancer... He and Steve were arguing. He made some comment about being powerful or... being able to handle Harrowheart's body... being able to..." He frowns as he struggles to remember. It was all such a blur. "Being able to de-construct it, or disenchant it or something. I don't know... there were a lot of threats. Yelling. Steve... punched a wall."

"Sounds like it was a crazy moment. Everyone confused and upset and still in the wrong bodies. Even wronger bodies. And Harrowheart hears threats about his body being destroyed, how do you suppose he should have reacted? Especially since this is a man that specializes in the sort of creature he is. He must have been very frightened, Viatorus. Though I suppose that doesn't help the memory of it making you a little ill, knowing how close he was to accidentally carrying out his threat."

"I... I don't understand, Dr. Hill. I don't understand how a person can be so quick to jump to violence. I know Harrowheart has some... some sort of natural inclination to it, but... but he's so good at curbing it. And he wasn't even in his own body. I..." He shakes his head and focuses on his fingers turning the saucer in small pinching motions. "I just don't understand it. Am I the only one terrified of it? My sister can be violent, even Steve punched a wall..."

"Funny how you still end up with so much exposure to violence in a place that has a field to prevent it. Some people are just inclined towards it, or unafraid to use it, to change things around them. It's gratifying like that; you see immediate results, you release tension in the process...It's not hard to see why it's appealing for those who care to use it!

"Why do you suppose you fear it? Are you afraid of being hurt?"

"'Why'?" Viatorus turns his now confused gaze to the doctor. "Because it's dangerous. It hurts. All it ever does is hurt. All it ever causes is pain and suffering. It's a brutal, terrible thing. There's no sense to it. None at all. Animalism. Tooth and claw. Blind instinct. No reason, no logic. Emotion at its cruellest."

"There'd be many that'd disagree with you, you realize. Warriors, soldiers, martial artists, assassins. There's a great many in the Nexus! Each of them considering their painful craft an art. Something they had to learn, perfect and maybe teach over many years! Resorting to it readily or eagerly certainly might indicate some manner of being stunted; lacking the emotional range or maturity to know how to handle anger or accepting matters beyond your control. But there are still those that harness it responsibly, just like any kind of magic that could be destructive in the wrong hands."

The more Dr. Hill talks about it, the more Viatorus wrinkles up his nose and frowns. It sits too uncomfortably with him. Surely it has its uses, if it part of a patron's schooling, but that doesn't make it good, or kind.

"Violence exists for violence. It's not creative or good like magic can be." he folds his arms tight and shakes his head. "I don't like it. I don't understand it. I wish other people wouldn't use it. I know my wishing won't change anything, but that's how I feel." He huffs a sigh. "At this rate all my friends and family will kill each other the moment they step out of the anti-violence field."

"I'm certainly not advocating for mindless harm and slaughter, of course. Needless torment is something I've always found to be repugnant. Or torment caused to ease or thrill a sick mind, more specifically. But all the same, violence is a part of life. Pain is a part of life. None of us were born into this world without pain and blood, after all. Not you, not I.

"And the Nexus has a way of making us face our breaking points. I hope you keep that in mind the longer you stay here. There may be a time where you're forced to take up arms. I hope it's not anytime soon. But that day may come in due time."

As if everything he said was perfectly cheerful and not at all upsetting, Dr. Hill claps and scrubs his hands together. "But enough about that! I'm sure you're ready to return to your rightful body, hm?"

Viatorus' uneasiness doesn't fade with Dr. Hill's words. His first points are ones that the scholar can understand in some distant, abstract way, but not in the way his friends have displayed. As for the thought that he might some day be tested on this... it makes him feel ill just thinking about it. Part of him, reluctantly, knows the doctor is right. It's in the nature of the Nexus to test its inhabitants. Or so he suspects.

He swallows hard to push aside his fears, and nods. "Yes. Quite."

"Then let's get on with it! Well done, Viatorus. You learned so much in this time. I'm proud of you."

There's nothing precise that causes it; no gesture, no spell, no flash of light. Just that familiar chill, the swimming and darkening of vision, the feeling of slipping away...

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Follow-Up Appointment [For Harrowheart, Viatorus, Steve]

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