nexus_sages | Values

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Values

The desk is back in the Nexus again. And the owner of it is once more behind it, hands folded primly in front of him. Set off to the side is a fountain pen and a pad of paper. The banker's light and the metronome rest on the desk as well, though both are turned off. The snow is cleared in a neat three foot circumference around his seat, and though he's in just a dress shirt and sweater vest, the cold doesn't seem to bother the doctor one bit.

"I wonder," Dr. Hill begins in his usual northern European accent, "What do you, as a person, value more? Honesty? Or loyalty?"

A simple question, really.

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Dr. Hill laughs! "Oh ho! At least I can assure you I'm no god. Perhaps the very last thing I could claim to be."

He leans forward on his elbows, squinting slightly in curious scrutiny of the woman at his desk. "Not a fan of second opinions, I take it."

A sly smirk and a shake of her head.

"No, I suppose not."

She liked things her way, at any cost. She was, or used to be, a god (and a demon to some). She was used to things going her way.

"So you don't see the value in an outsider's thoughts at all? Or how another might require it?"

He has his pen in hand now, prepared to write something. Poised over the paper, awaiting her answer.

She watches him pull out the paper.

"Ah a scribe are we? Hmmm... I guess I can not say at all. Without an outsiders thought I guess I would not even be here."

A casual shrug, and a laugh.

"What a funny thought!"

Sorry she seems to be deep in thought on something.

Dr. Hill offers a brief smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm an analyst. I take notes for the sake of your file, Lady Samael. As I do with all my patients." And subjects. What distinguishes the two is to his discretion.

He continues to smile as he begins to write. "Funny indeed! Isn't it interesting how others form us, shape us, simply by matter of their opinions? Their desires and thoughts? It's unavoidable if we are to exist at all."

A smile and a tilt of her head.

"So you know of me?"

A member of the order perhaps? One of the smaller sects? Or maybe someone against her order? Time to pry.

"I suppose that is true."

She stops in deep contemplation.

"But that matters not to me now. Not for my goals."

"Let's just say I'm very good with names," he replies with another insincere smile.

"And where are your goals taking you? New year is a good a time as any to get started on them, after all!"

"Oh?"

She abruptly stops the metronome.

"Well, see I'm not sure If I want to disclose those to any ole person now."

Especially if she doesn't know if they can be trusted.

Just like her starting it, he makes no reaction or comment to her ending the ticking either.

"I'm not just any old person, thankfully. I'm an analyst. A licensed therapist. It's my job to determine these things. To help you navigate parts of yourself you may not readily understand."

She places both hands firmly on his desk and leans in close.

"I do not care about those silly titles. Tell my why I should trust you. What are you to me?"

A brief pause, and a small dark smirk.

"And please, do not waste my time with nonsense."

"To you? Someone who can help you understand the situation you've found yourself in. Perhaps an ally in this trying time? I have a very extensive knowledge of fear in particular. And is that not something in the back of your mind at this turn? Fear?"

"I fear nothing!"

She slams her hands upon his desk.

"GODS FEAR NOTHING!"

Whoops there's that temper of hers.

There's no flinch, no startled expression. Only after the outburst happens does he slowly lean back, folding his hands together, tilting his head to one side. There's the ghost of a smirk hovering on his lips.

"Fear is a natural response to the unknown. To the unexplained. To the unexpected. And fear is vital when you inhabit a body that can easily die. Does this make sense, Lady?"

Inch at could only be described as a full on temper tantrum she violently shoved everything of off his desk.

"I have tasted death many times before! I have always found my way back!"

Though perhaps, deep down, she did fear what death would mean in her current state.

The items scatter as the items are flung, but there is no satisfying crunch or crash of the things hitting the floor. They simply wink out of existence, no trace of them to be found on the ground or desk alike.

"And this time will be no different? Is that what you think? Well, I can't fault you for confidence. And the Nexus is reasonably safe; no violence, after all. But there are worse things than death. Worse things than bodily harm."

She grows still for a moment. Her face slightly red from the outburst, hair a mess.

"I. Fear. Nothing!"

Her nails dug into his desk hard enough to nearly break a few.

He relents, shrugging and folding his hand once more as one leg crosses over the other. "If you say so." Then points out her fingers. "Careful; the violence protection I mentioned doesn't extend to self-harm, I don't think."

She relaxes only slightly.

"And what does it matter to you what happens to me?"

She still doesn't know how to place this man. Is he a friend, or an enemy?

"Why, you're one of my patients! What sort of doctor would I be if I left you to charge off and get yourself into all sorts of trouble and harm?"

"And who exactly decided that I was to be your patient? Because it certainty wasn't me."

He doesn't answer verbally. Instead, he pulls open a drawer and removes a file. A finger taps the tab of it, where the name SAMAEL is printed plainly.

It's thin now, but he'll surely have some things to add to it after this session.

If she takes a peek, that drawer appears to be quite full of files. Maybe he just makes them as soon as new arrivals appear...? But that doesn't explain how he's so 'good with names', as he put it.

"A silly little piece of parchment without of my names on it means nothing to me!"

She catches a quick glimpse of the files. It seemed he had a lot of information. Perhaps that is something she could use to her advantage in the future.

"I'm not your enemy, Lady Samael. I'm offering to help you make sense of what's befallen you."

The file is no longer in his hand. The drawer is also shut. When did that happen? It just seemed to simply be with no clear transition for one to the next.

She allowed herself to calm down fully, and breathed out a heavy sigh. She wasn't sure what to make of the man, but he was offering help. That and it seemed he had information. Perhaps she could take advantage of that.

"And how do you propose to help me? Hmmm?"

"Well, as I said. I'm an analyst. I'm here and willing to be someone you can confide in. Who can help you understand this place. And perhaps your place in it."

He flashes her a smile. "All I ask is a little trust."

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