Log - We Need to Talk (Open)

[graveyounglady]

Who: Mercy Graves & OTA
When: Early/mid-November
Where: Around the ADI HQ
Summary: Going to some counseling sessions and offering her own counseling services.
Warnings: Will add as they come up!

A. Attending Counseling
It might be the first time she's here or the third or fourth. Stepping through the doors to the counseling center in ADI never does get much easier. She'd feel better if it were some sort of temple, maybe, knowing there were clerics behind the doors or some other leader. At least she knows that some of the time, there is another cleric. Caduceus when he's in is someone she feels safe with.

And today, she has someone else with her. Maybe an old friend, maybe someone she's only just met. They might be there to meet with Caduceus to talk or it might be someone else working in this department.

"You feeling all right with this?"


B. Mealtime Wisdom
It's not just Mercy who needs help. She knows others do, and some of them don't seem keen to head to the counseling center. That doesn't mean she can't lend an ear for those that might want it. She notices someone sitting alone in the canteen when she steps in during lunch or dinner. Maybe they're new, maybe they've been here a while and just look lonely to her eyes. Either way, she steps close to the table.

"This here seat taken? Don't much like eating by myself. Makes it dull as hemming a skirt."

Comments

B

[myfavoritemurder]

Callisto is used to communal meals with her soldiers, and she'd held herself separate there, too. Whether on the road or in camps, she'd always taken her food at a distance from the group - close enough that she could keep an eye on them, but far enough that none of them could mistake her as being interested in joining in on conversation or dice games.

Here in the ADI canteen, her behavior is much the same, even if her motives are a bit different. These people aren't her army, and so she doesn't need to make sure they're behaving to her standards, but she watches all the same: just out of curiosity, rather than necessity. And in her armor, with a sword strapped to her back, she knows she must cut a curious figure to these people, too. Still, she's a little surprised when one of them approaches her.

"Does it look taken?" she asks, wrinkling her nose as she drags a piece of bread across her plate, scooping up sauce and bits of the spaghetti noodles that she's chopped to near-mush with her knife. "You're a brave one, aren't you. You can have it, I suppose, if you really want it."

[graveyounglady]

"Ain't so brave just talking to a body." Mercy grins at her as she takes a seat. "I'm Sister Mercy Graves of the Order of the Spring Tide. I was wondering what military or whatnot you're with. Ain't seen many folk here who look like proper warriors, and I don't see no symbols I know for the defenders around where I live."

Mercy's dressed in a simple green dress with the white scarf of a novitiate covering her head. If Callisto was paying her much mind, though, she might have noticed the hilt of a dagger poking out from between the folds of Mercy's skirt.

[myfavoritemurder]

"It's brave to talk to my body," Callisto retorts. Mercy's smile and cheery demeanor only serve to sour her further - but catching a glimpse of that dagger sure does draw her interest.

"I'm not part of any military, but I had my own army once. And who do you fight?"

[graveyounglady]

Mercy's brows shoot up, clearly surprised and impressed. "Are you a queen, then, my lady? Or a general? The things I fight these days are disease and wounds. But I've lifted my blade to vanquish a tyrant. That was a few years ago." She glances down at her lap, more aware now of the dagger.

"Here, I've taken up against anyone trying to hurt me or other folk if I'm there to give my steel for an argument. Monsters have come after use more'n once. Those are where the arguments tend to come up more pointed."

A

[forethinking]

As per usual, Ren offers Mercy his arm to hold as they enter the counseling center. He isn't sure how easy or otherwise this is for Mercy, but his last experience with therapists has been... Complicated, to say the least. On top of that, ADI will have access to this information, won't he? Either way, he's here to support a friend, so he'll go with a clear mind and intention.

Ren sits on the couch, leaving the most space for her.

"I am. Are you?"

[graveyounglady]

"Right as I can be. We're seeing Mr. Caduceus for this first time. I want to see what it's supposed to be like with someone I know we can trust. He'll be a good one, trust me." She sits next to Ren and pats his leg gently before withdrawing her hand. "You met him, yet?"

[forethinking]

"Not that I remember."

So, probably not. Ren takes the hand as it hovers away, massaging it as a means to distract himself from his nervousness. He's a fidgeter, and there's nothing to fidget with. Sorry, Mercy.

[thatsreallygreat]

If one happens to meet him on ADI property, Caduceus is a particularly hard person to forget. A door in the waiting room opens and a seven foot tall firbolg steps through, pink-and-white hair hanging off to one side. He smiles when he sees Sister Mercy.

"Hey, little sister." He tips his head when he sees the new person with her. "And hello to you. Come on in, I've got the kettle on."

Whether or not anyone else wants tea, he tends to keep hot water ready whenever he's working. The room is eclectic, either because it had been thrown together with leftovers or because different people were adding touches that they thought would make the place more comfortable. Caduceus has to duck to avoid one of the hanging plans. There's a few mugs on a bookshelf, possibly Caduceus's contribution to the room: an owl, a cat, one with plants, and one that someone gave him.

"Have a seat wherever you like."

B

[the_archivist]

Jon certainly has no intention of going to a counselling session. The invitations to attend have been politely ignored. He can't talk to anyone! There's too much risk of letting something slip.

And he doesn't deserve it anyway. No-one could help him.

He's sitting in the canteen having grudgingly decided to take a short break from his research. He looks up when he's approaches, and after a moment, nods. It would probably be churlish to refuse.

"I can't promise to he good company, but if you want to, you're welcome."

[graveyounglady]

"I reckon you ain't giving yourself enough credit. You're better than talking to a log." Mercy grins at him as she sits down. She... vaguely knows this man. She's seen him around ADI, but she has yet to properly introduce herself to him. "I'm Mercy, sir. Sister Mercy Graves of the Spring Tide. You been here at ADI for a while, ain't you?"

A pause. "I think I seen you with Mr. Martin. He's great, ain't he?"

[the_archivist]

"Debateable," Jon replies. He's certainly met people who would have preferred talking to a log before.

He recognises the name. Ah, the woman who worshipped the Buried and thought it was benevolent. He's being uncharitable but it's hard to- to accept something like that, that kind of difference between worlds.

"A few months yes. And, you know Martin?"

[graveyounglady]

Mercy just huffs a little laugh at the man's self-deprecation. It reminds her a little bit of Brother Ainsley. He could be a terribly sour pill sometimes, especially when he felt like he was being bothered in his work with trivial matters.

"Aye. We picked up a package for ADI together a while back, and I got to chatting with him on the network about some sort of door he was worried about turning up at the circus. And we..." She trails off, losing some of her enthusiasm. "We was in those terrible dreams together, too. He-he's a brave man. Wish he hadn't needed to be, though."

She shakes he head slightly before perking up. "Shame he's as old as he is. Reckon if he were a little younger, I could fancy a man like that."

B

[ployboy]

Yeah, he's been sitting at this table for a while. There's litter of a lunch consisting of the baked sunchips flavor of the day, applesauce, and the entree that had reminded him way too much of high school. Tim himself is engrossed in tapping away at his phone, one elbow on the table, cheek to the palm of his hand.

Mercy walks up and Tim... has to smile, if faintly, because damn does this feel too much like high school. He nudges the chair opposite of him with a foot-- effectively offering it to her. He's seen this chick around. Tim straightens, nods, and starts to... tidy up his space. "Sure, go ahead. I'll be here for a while."

Not saying he'll be good company, just-- that he'll be here a while.

[graveyounglady]

Mercy sits herself right down and makes a show of looking at his phone. "Those phone boxes is magic, ain't they. We ain't got nothing like them where I'm from. You want to talk to someone far away, you send a letter and hope it reaches them in a few weeks, maybe a month if they're far enough off. And the information!"

She's leaning forward on one elbow now, fork plunked into her spaghetti and twirling. "It's a whole library and archives and-and everything all rolled up into one little thing. Brother Ainsley would've died to see something like that. He was the Abbey Archivist where I'm from.

"Oh! I'm Mercy. Mercy Graves of the Spring Tide, if you like it full. May the spring bring life to you and yours."

[ployboy]

Mercyme makes herself known fairly regularly on ADI's forum. Tim's eyes light up in recognition: it's always good to put a name to the face, so to speak. His small smile is still there, hardly waning. The enthusiasm for the magic phone boxes? Pretty cute.

Yes, he's aware that's condescending as hell. Let him be.

He turns the screen to her as she snoops, and decides against snapping something about privacy and social etiquette. It's a community forum for events of the city of Gloucester, small invitations for niche days of celebrations, fundraisers, school holiday planning, the pricing for balloon arrangements that no doubt breaks the rules against self-promotion in that BookFace group-- everything a grandma could ever hope for. He's got it tracked. Again: just let him be. "You could even use the phone to look up the entire history of the phone," he adds. "Or 'The History of The Entire World, I Guess', if you really want to go down that rabbit hole. It's hard not to get sucked in sometimes."

Fact: Tim Drake... doesn't love staring at the magic phone box thing all day. But he's not much in the habit of only doing things he wants to, these days.

"Alright, I'm Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. Everyone knows me by Tim." Please call him Tim. "May the spring... yeah, you too."

cw: brief mention of anti-vax rhetoric

[graveyounglady]

"Tim... Oh! You're Ms. Meredith's Tim, aren't you?" That's a new face for a name she's familiar with, which is exciting in its own way. She'd been... wondering about him. She knows Jeff. Sort of. Getting to meet the other half of a potential pairing is good. It lets a body size up the suitability.

"You've been here as long as I have, then, haven't you? Time's been flying by. Didn't think to look up histories on there, but I'll give it a try. I got so much I'm researching for my medical work, though. Seems like there's more stuff in there than anyone could read in a dozen lifetimes. And some of it don't seem like it matches up with the others.

"They gave me all these needlesticks when I got here, but there's things I found that said those are bad for you."

A

[aelwyn_aberration]

[No. That's the truthful answer. The idea of counseling is bizarre to her. She's read about it, she knows it works, she knows that Adaine was in desperate need of it, but what she doesn't get is why she would ever be honest like that in the presence of a stranger.

What would the teachers say, if they found out? What would the other students say? She can hear the rumours about the eldest Abernant daughter being just as much of a basketcase as the dropout runt of the bloodline. Even now, as far away from them as she is, she still can't help but be a bit afraid of them.

But she's here to support her dear friend. So she'll shove that down for now. Whether Mercy can tell or not is another matter.]

Certainly. [She offers a hand to hold. Ostensibly for Mercy's benefit, but maybe just as much for her own.] Do you think they'll want us to discuss the dream we had together?

[graveyounglady]

[She takes a firm grip on Aelwyn's proffered hand. It's something to keep her steady as she opens the door to the counseling room and leads the other girl over to the sofa for them to sit down.]

I don't... know? Maybe? If we bring it up. You think we should?

[aelwyn_aberration]

Maybe not on the first session.

[Her voice is a bit hushed, but she's glad for Mercy holding her hand even if the grip is maybe hurting just a tiny bit. It's nice, a constant reminder that she's not alone.]

Let's just let them call the shots. It's Caduceus, right?

For Malcolm

[graveyounglady]

Mercy sits in the canteen, a lunch tray set in front of her as she works her way through a sandwich and some fruit. When she sees Malcolm, she gives him a friendly wave. "Hope you don't mind I grabbed some vittals. Ain't had lunch, yet, and I do my talking better when my stomach ain't think my throats been cut, sir."

[abrightboy]

“No, that’s… fine. I’m just going to…” He gestures towards the counter. “Get a cup of tea.”

He returns with it a couple of minutes later and sits opposite her, fidgeting at the cup with his fingers.

“So. You’ve really taken to their counsellor, then?”

[graveyounglady]

"Mr. Caduceus, at least. I owe him my life, and you get to trusting a body when that happens, don't you?" She does, anyway. "We got a fair few things in common, too. He's a grave cleric, and I'm an undertaker. Was, anyway, growing up. There's magics and gods that's good in his world, too. Not like this one.

"How about you? What were you up to 'fore you were here?"

For Kurapika

[graveyounglady]

Mercy has discovered AnnaJo's Fabrics in town and has been doing most of her shopping there. Weaving herself would take too long and she's yet to actually locate a store that would give her the wool she needs to be able to make something from the start. But no matter, there are good merchants with fabrics she's never even seen before. It's this store that she asks Kurapika to meet her at. Mercy is wearing a new, dark blue dress trimmed with white that she's made for herself, one that's thicker than her spring dress.

"Hey, there, K!" Mercy raises a hand in greeting and grins. She'd been leaning against the store front for the past few minutes, just people-watching. "Thanks much for coming round with me. Want to make sure I get the right fabrics for that picture you sent, and they got bolts that go on for miles here."

[chainreactions]

It's a matter of clan pride. If it weren't for his job, Kurapika wouldn't ever trade his traditional clothing for the suit and tie the mafia has him wear. Being the last one means keeping the tradition alive, and since none of his belongings came with him to this place, he sees no other option but to take Mercy up on her offer. Truth be told, Kurapika is more of a loner, preferring to do things by himself, but considering the fact that he really misses it and definitely, there isn't enough time for him to learn how to sew from scratch-- why not, really?

The blond turns his attention to the lady, smiling however faintly as he approaches.

"Mercy, correct? Kurapika."

And he'll offer his hand to shake.

"Thank you in turn for taking the time to do this for a stranger. Those clothes do mean the world to me."

[graveyounglady]

"That's right, and happy to help with them. I know clothes is a way to show your family pride where I'm from. Mama's got dresses handed down through the generations for formal occasions. Each one of the family embroiders a bit of it through the years. It's part of how we tell our stories." Mercy's... not sure if she's going to get those for herself, anymore. More likely, they'll go to Ida and Colm's children. For just a moment, her heart aches, but... it's fine. This is fine.

"Is that what these clothes are for you?" She moves to hold open the door to the shop for Kurapika to step inside.