apocalypsehowcomm | Log - We Need to Talk (Open)

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Log - We Need to Talk (Open)

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."

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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."

"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.

"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?"

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?"

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."

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.

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."

"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?"

"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?"

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."

[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?

"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.

"I suppose you could have called me a general," she says, with a careless shrug. Titles don't hold any interest for her, and neither does power, beyond the power to defeat Xena. Her men had called her by her name: nothing more, and nothing less.

"I'm a warrior. And I give my steel whenever I see fit."

But her tone is a bit more conversational here, now that she's talking to a fellow fighter.

"Are you any good?"

"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?"

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."

He winces at the mention of the dreams. Of course Martin had been there. He should check if Martin had seen him. He doesn't remember seeing martin, but that doesn't mean much. He doesn't always emember things that happen under the influence as it were.

"He is brave," Jon replies, with a soft smile creeping onto his lips. "Very brave."

The mention of his age though has Jon blinking, surprise creeping into his expression, and then amusement and intense awkwardness. "He's only just in his thirties! Hardly old. And he's ah... Well, he's taken."

"Is he really?" Hmm... but then that mention of being taken. It dawns on her after a moment that this man has the look about him of a fellow talking about someone they fancy rather a lot. And there had been that conversation with Meredith about Tim. Mercy gives him an appraising look, then picks up the little brownie on her tray and sets it deliberately in front of Jon.

"Well, if you're the one taking him, sir, you need to eat more 'fore the winter sets in. You haven't got half the meat on your bones a body should. You eat that for a start. Have you already eaten today? I can go and get you another tray..."

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."

Edited 2021-11-19 22:07 (UTC)

"Mmmm," Jon hums in agreement. Of course Martin is taken and he can't help but feel a bit possessive. It's maybe not the best emotion but they haven't exactly had a normal relationship.

He picks up on the look and gives her a wary look when the brownie is placed in front of him.

"I- Oh-." He can feel a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Yes he- Martin's my boyfriend."

And he's so lucky. It's hard to believe that Martin still wants him after everything.

"And I'm fine! Really. I don't need more."

[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?

Mercy wrinkles her nose up in thought. "Could stick a pig at 40 paces, but up close ain't something I'm the best at. I been trying to do a little practice here to make sure I stay sharp. Most people don't got weapons really meant for the sort of dueling I know, though.

"Truth be told, I'd say I'm better at distance and support, but I'm always willing to learn more and train with them that know what they're doing."

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?

"And do they train you here?"

Over the course of the past several days, Callisto has come to realize that she and others have rather different ideas of what fighting the Apocalypse means. No one else seems to think that they'll be facing the Entities on a field of battle, but Callisto isn't so sure. It certainly seems like it would be a simpler, more decisive way of doing things than endless investigations.

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."

Mercy gives Ren's twitchy hand a squeeze and rises to follow Caduceus, holding onto it for the journey. The room is warm, friendly, much like the firbolg, and it eases Mercy's heart considerably to see it. Others had seemed concerned about what this would really be like. But this is about what Mercy had expected so far. Caduceus wouldn't work somewhere stark and cold unless it was a sort of thing that you needed to keep the bad things out of a body.

"Hi, big brother! This is Ren. You... remember I told you about him? He's the fine fellow who keeps coming over and cooking for everyone in our apartment. Ren, this is Caduceus."

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