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

[workthroughit]

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?"

Comments

[westfallcorndog]

Doctor Hill's glowing assessment of him bring a humble smile to his face. He rubs his hands together between his legs and focuses on them in an effort to manage his shyness. This guy even compliments him. All of this is exceedingly strange but also deeply gratifying.

And then it's back to Isidor! He looks up now, smiling unevenly, and shrugs one shoulder casually. "It's not deep forever-love yet or nothin', but... She's powerful. She's funny. She laughed at some of my jokes, too! She's witty for sure, and she's pretty, too. She's got some patience for me, and she was gracious when I was in her manor. She even stuck up for me a couple'a times. Those're good reasons, right?"

[workthroughit]

"Yes, but. Ah...You didn't...try to express an interest while in the body you're inhabiting now, did you? Because I can't begin to explain how offputting that would be." Please, Harrowheart. Please say you didn't do that.

[westfallcorndog]

The body he's?... He looks down and – "OH! Sh-shoot, heck. Naw! No, not at all. I did in Steve's, though. But I wouldn't'a let it get physical or anything even if she'd been interested. I don't think Steve's ever kissed a lady. Or a man, for that matter. I wasn't gonna take any of that away from him."

He runs his hand idly over Viatorus's face and once more he's laughing. "Shoot... That's funny stuff. Terrible, but funny. 'Cause sometimes terrible is funny, y'know? Maybe someday we'll all look back at this whole situation and laugh. I hope so."

[workthroughit]

"Terrible is very funny at times, yes, I agree." Of course he would. "Though, not to pry, but...Do you think she'd be receptive to the affections of an undead? Or a werewolf?" These are things he assumes Harrow considers, but then again, the guy's only now learning to be introspective.

[westfallcorndog]

Harrow shrugs. "Likes me, doesn't like me. I'm used to bein' the line people won't cross. Conversations, friendships, romances. I wouldn't be surprised or hurt if she told me I wasn't her type for any reason. She's rich, I'm not. She's classy, I'm not. She's alive, I'm... Soon to be not. If she says no, I gotta roll with it. I ain't the kinda guy to try and turn a lady's 'no' into a 'yes.'"

He raises his eyebrows as he sighs. "I think the harder part would be if she did like me back. For one, she's from a noble family. Those people marry their own. So if I got with her it'd be a world of hurt for her. Either she'd have to leave me for some other guy eventually or she'd have to marry me. And I'm like... I'm a commitment man? When I say I'm gonna be loyal to one person, I mean it, and I don't fuck that up for nothin'. That's one thing I don't fuck up. But marriage? Don't feel right for me. And besides, it's for life."

His nostrils flare and he shifts them side to side to keep out the prickling sensation starting up.

"What if I do learn to love her? And what if it does become forever-love? Humans ain't forever, Doctor. Humans die. And I won't. And I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for that. I don't know that I can convince myself that lovin' a livin' person is worth it when the heartbreak comes."

[workthroughit]

"This is all what-ifs and maybes when it comes to Viatorus' sister in particular, but...Probably relevant if you ever do find yourself proper involved with someone among the living. And navigating your romantic choices based on them being mortal or short-lived or not seems pretty unromantic to me. These things tend to just happen, after all.

"I'm afraid I don't have the answers to a lot of these either. As they'll be things you'll have to determine for yourself if they're worth it or not. If you can endure them or not. But I'm always happy to do what I can to help you work it out." He gives Harrowheart a brief smile.

[westfallcorndog]

Harrow's hands bother with his hair and he frowns at the desk. Suddenly he isn't sure the doctor's advice is what he wants or needs to be hearing. The spontaneity of love is beyond him at a time like this. Since the man has been gracious every time in allowing changes of subject (and, thankfully, emotion,) he attempts to steer the conversation someplace familiar once again.

"Do you think... Do you think I've forgotten something? In my empathy lesson, I mean? Is there somethin' else you'd like to ask me or remind me? 'Cause, no offense to my pals, I think I want my body back. I think that for the first time in... Ever... I just wanna be me. A better me, maybe, but me."

[workthroughit]

Dr. Hill straightens up again with a soft grunt and wanders his way back to the other side of the desk. Rather than taking his seat again, he rests both palms flat on the surface of his desk, leaning on his arms and looking at Harrowheart with a faint smirk. Amused at Harrowheart's question and earnest desire for a return.

"I think you've done well. Very well. Better than expected even! And if you're ready..."

[westfallcorndog]

Harrow sets his palms flat on the desk and spends a few silent seconds considering them. They aren't his hands, not really. Could he ever get used to having them? To seeing them every day? Perhaps. But they belong to someone else. Someone else who earned them through a foreign and difficult life.

"I'm glad we laughed a little before it all ends," he says quietly, more a thought aloud than an opportunity for conversation. Then he looks up at Doctor Hill, and he nods.

Harrowheart takes in one last, slow breath, eyes closed all the while, and waits.

[workthroughit]

"Brace yourself."

That's all the warning Harrowheart gets before things start to darken, the cold creeps up his spine and limbs, the way his vision starts to swim. Home again, home again.