08.20.3013: Sterile Visit
Summary: Lady Viannea Peake has visitors after her ordeal, they include Squires Michael and Chiron as well as geologist Demos
Date: 20th August 2013
Related: None
Viannea Chiron Michael Demos 

Hospital of Khar-Mordune
A sterile hospital room fit for a noble.

It has been boring to say the least. Hospital visits are not supposed to be fun, of course, but for someone as active as Viannea it is torture having to stay relatively still and do very little. A few walks have been made around the hospital but they have been fairly short, the patient still entirely too easily drained to do more than a lap or two of the floor. She's just gotten back from one of those brief constitutionals, the lithe figure looking even more thin in a set of sweats someone brought from home, a recently-brought tray of food sitting on a table.

Hospital stays have always bothered Michael, Viannea should remember this rather well from his leg injury, then from his more serious stay at Willowtree. To have heard that she's now stuck in one, and after reading the report on what happened. He doesn't wait for a reply letter saying it's alright if they're friends. He makes the decision, clears it with Avalyn, and then heads to Khar-Mordune for the first time ever to find her. He stops in Obsidia to pick up a memChip and load it with some holovid shows for her, granted she never did tell him what types of shows she likes, he picks ones that have zilch sad in them. When Michael arrives at the hospital under the mountain, he has to fight for clearance to go and see Viannea, primarily because he's not family and he's not noble. He lies, saying he's her companion, and is finally led to her room. After the nurse leaves, Michael knocks gently on the door frame, "Mind some company?"

Not his first time to Khar-Mordune, Demos also seems to be of the mindset that hospitals aren't all bad. Then again, hospital isn't far off from a laboratory, other than less sick people - same sterile though. He's come in with a small wooden box himself, heading for the same injured person as the noble who is arriving just before him. Demos has taken another lift bank up the back way most likely. He is coming around the corner about the time Lord Michael is greeting Lady Viannea. Slowly he walks down the hall, not wanting to either interrupt their greeting, nor disturb other sick persons. Quietly he walks down the hall, holding the reddish box, most likely a stained cedar with a cherry-wood inlay. Despite the circumstance of him being here, a smile is on his face, as if its hard to remove it.

Viannea is fairly unfamiliar with hospital policy which keeps her from questioning Michael as to how he got past the watchful nurses. What is done instead is a bit of a shake of her head, that being what'll suffice for invite for now while she pours herself a cup of juice. Lunch is some clear soup and a small sandwich, a light meal that should nourish her body without being too heavy on her stomach. "I needed time to think…" is stated blandly as she looks at her food, Vi really not hungry for it, "… which is why I didn't write…" And then Yolanda was killed and she was injured. Letter writing became the last thing on her list of things to do.

"I didn't expect a letter, to be honest, I was an ass… of the royal kingly kind." Michael moves out of the doorway, sets the chip on a counter, then takes up standing near the wall. There's more than physical distance between the two. "I heard… about your sister. I, saw the reports on it. How are you feeling? Not the, fake sympathetic are you okay kind… what do you feel right now?" she knows about Roan, he knows about this sort of pain. He shifts, his light tunic betraying the heavy bandages underneath. He watches her eyes, to see the responses… to judge the thoughts behind them. "I can't offer you anything, Viannea, there's nothing to offer you. I'm here, if you'd like me to be, but sympathy never feels genuine does it?"

Not having heard what they've discussed so far, Demos finishes the hall. His heels echoing on the floor, no protective cover like in the lab, the hard soles free to ring out in the synthetic environment. Waiting a moment, he'll give a knock to the door. "Sorry," he calls out, "Not to interrupt … just, about the neighborhood, luck would have it I have time for a quick hello." The scholar remains at the door however, so he isn't fully interrupting, but he doesn't want to pass up the opportunity to visit with the Lady Viannea if she is accepting visitors. Most likely if the door remained open, he'll see the gentleman there, and offer a bow of his head. Having seen him maybe once before, "Lord Michael." Shifting a little, disallowing even his toes to cross the thresshold for the moment.

It still hasn't sunk in, yet, the grief that Viannea knows she's supposed to feel but can't due to all the medication she's being kept on. It is probably by design of the doctors who just might be afraid that grief might hinder the body's healing process. "Yes, you were…" Her eyes narrow then but it's hard to tell why. She might say more but then Demos enters, causing her to stop whatever it was she had in mind to speak. "Ah. Demos. I do hope you're well… oh, wait. Did I know you two know each other?"

Viannea doesn't correct Demos as far as Michael's title. That's on the squire to do so.

There's a good chance Michael doesn't really remember the man, but he turns at his name and offers a very light chuckle. "If you're being formal, I'm Young Master Michael. Citizen born and raised, but thank you for the compliment." Viannea's the one to provide the name, "Good to see you, Demos." then he turns back to Viannea, "How are you healing? You take after your aunt, I remember carrying her off the field that one time, she was in bad shape. You're supposed to dodge, you know." his tone attempting to ease their personal tensions with humor. It's rather poorly done though.

"My apologies Young Master," replies Demos, still with a smile, "As I recall the time that we had met before, there was little interest in glossing over those details then." He takes a step inside and holds up the box, suggesting it is a gift, then looking for a place to put it, she can open it when she feels like she has enough energy to do so. Not wishing to further the humor, he returns, "My condolences and my sympathy for you Viannea. I am thankful to see you again though." As much as he can say I'm glad you're alive without further pointing out the loss in the family. "If our outing to the caves some how contributed, then I am humbly sorry to you. If there is anything I could do to help you …" Talk with some old Academ friends, stage a break out from the hospital, sneak something in, or just be a friend. He leaves it open rhetorically.

"I returned to the staging point under my own power," Vi points out with a grin. It is probably a testimony to how stubborn she is for her to do that after having continued to fight. Quit is most definitely not in her vocabulary. The box is eyed and taken from Demos, her brow knitting when it's first inspected and then opened. "Oh. No. Our trip down into the caves had nothing to do with it. This was something we had planned." Planned. Haha. It was planned but did not turn out the way any of them hoped. "Thank you for the gift as well as everything else."

… Inside the box (http://www.minfind.com/mfthumbs/800_600_17636807894fc1d1085be40.jpg), on a small bed of velvet, about the size of a two thumbnails put together.

"I had a feeling you would, you're pretty spectacular on the field and off it." Michael replies softly, he glances between them, before looking straight at Vi. His eyes seeking hers, "I'm truly sorry for how I acted, Viannea. I'm going to go now, I brought some vid shows for you to watch when the walls start to close in, when you feel like talking again… if you feel like talking again. I'll be on a medbed in Obsidia for a few days still, my doc says I'm fine to travel if it isn't too long of a trip." with that, he turns towards the door, looks back once to offer a smile before heading out.

Letting the man pass, Demos does offer, "Good day to you Young Master." A curious look, every time he encounters the young squire, there is some apology to some woman or another it would seem. Then as he passes, "I'm glad … that it wasn't …" He sighs, not wanting to put a foot into his mouth. Turning to a topic he does know, "Its a Grossular, from Detritus. I figure I'd get it off the moon, just in case the walls give and, you know …" It goes the way of 4th World. But a smile, "Not worth much like that, but find a master cutter and it will increase in value a thousand-fold, literally. I was serious though, if you need something. I've a friend here from the Academ, we could try to hook you up."

Viannea leans back on the bed, bracing herself with a hand while her legs are allowed to hang over the bed. Michael's departure gains the squire a politely voiced 'goodbye' from her before he gets out the door, his being gone meaning her drug-idled mind can have an easier time of focusing. "It wasn't like going down there wasn't my idea," is said with a tired quality to Viannea's voice, the noble woman beyond exhausted. "It is very lovely, Demos. Thank you." The stone gets put back on the box and that then set down so she can take a sip of her soup. "I think I'd like to leave it the way it is," is spoken in afterthought. "It might be worth more cut but I like it as it is. Rough and left in its natural form."

"Oh yeah," says Demos, oddly again with no place it would seem at first. He moves in more comfortably himself for the moment with Michael having retired to his own recover at Obsidia. "I mean, the Ring is a buzz with what you did, I'm glad you're recovering. Who else would help me work on my stance." A half chuckle, filling in the rest of what he could add in his own mind but leaving it unspoken. An eye down to the gem, "Rough is beautiful. Its an age old geological philosophy, between natural versus shaped. The struggle of man versus nature. For me, it comes down to the teleology of it. The cut gem is caused by man with an economic based goal. The natural stone is caused by water and mineral deposits after many long years, with the goal of simply being. I figure in comparison, the natural process takes longer to form, its more valuable to me like that." Looking at the untouched food then, he says, "You should consider eating, even a bite …"

Viannea is still finding herself a bit tense over the surprise visit, the fact that her sister has been brought up several times today helping to put a knot right between her shoulder blades. Not that she's blaming Michael or Demos but she'd rather that be something left alone for now. She looks at the remaining visitor from her bed and grins, holding up her bowl as she does. "I'm trying. But I'm not very hungry. They said it might take me a bit longer but as long as I try…"

Not that he's trying to, he's trying to avoid it, but confusing things. Such is how it goes for Demos at times. "One bite at a time, I'm not here to force anything. But I'll take the smile as a good enough sign, food can come later." He is more comfortable in the room as conversation progresses, but then he's still standing. "Long punt season should be starting soon, a few teams are still planning to keep going despite the circumstance. Anyone who can field an oarsmen will most likely compete in the Beacon Tournemant to open things up. I'm putting faith in Regnald, not simply because he's a local," from Detritus, "But he's had coaching from Wilmena during the offseason so he should be in good form." What better way to turn the subject then talk about sports, and one that few people like even.

Chiron knocks on the door lightly, peeking his head in after a few seconds. He gives Viannea a soft smile and just louder then a whisper says, "Hey." He steps inside the fully, now noticing the other visitor and the conversation. He waits by the door for a moment, it doesn't sound like a really personal conversation. He waits by the door to be acknowledged before stepping any farther.

Sports really isn't Viannea's forte and she winds up very confused. There's an attempt to keep it from her face but the longer Demos talks the deeper the furrow that creases her brow gets and by the time he is done she actually tilts her head to the side. "I really have no clue what all you just said," gets confessed amid a quiet laugh, it kept from being too deep to keep from hurting herself. When another voice rings from the doorway she waves, inviting Chiron in. "Come on in… do you know Demos, by chance?"

"No one usually does, I was hoping for more of a smile," grins Demos, fully serious in his appreciation of the gangoozler sports and knowing few else really care about it. "A better image would be, serenity of still water, with lone oarsmen pressing through a morning fog, cutting long ripples with some swans scattering … but then I just sound sentimental." A chuckle himself, he'd rather make it sound serious sporty, maybe an attempt at his masculine side. Then he looks to the other, not thinking he has met the older brother of his intern actually. Shaking his head, "I don't think I've had the honor … I am Demos … Osteros." He supplies the name while making room to allow the other to join the present company, a smile on his face.

Chiron smiles says, "Sir Lady Viannea. I'm glad to see you are alright. I was worried after I had heard…" He stops himself before going any further, best to not bring up her sister right now. He turns his attention briefly to Demos, giving him a smile. "Demos, I've heard quite a lot about you from my brother. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." He says, extending his hand out for a handshake. After, he looks back over to Viannea. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

Viannea wrinkles her nose slightly. It's nice to know Chiron is mindful of titles, a sign that he keeps courtesy in mind, but she's been 'my lady'ed to death since her arrival at the hospital and she wants to be done with it. "Viannea's just fine, Chiron. I'm too hurt and too drugged and too tired to dote on that today." Inwardly she is appreciative of Chiron skipping over the mention of her sister but outwardly she simply mutters 'thank you' at the same time she also nods to Demos. "It sounds lovely. Perhaps I'll go watch a rower someday, Demos."

Having taken the hand of Chiron, Demos grins a little, offering, "Or just skip watching, and enjoy a walk." Well, walks aren't exciting to everyone either. Shaking the hand of Chiron, he finally lets go, having held it meaning to address him as well. "Then, if I'm not mistaken, that would make you the eldest Quellton?" Only one brother he's been working with a lot lately, as he knows the family of others that come and go from his lab. "The pleasure would be mine, young master." He picks up on the title the other squire wanted from moments before, uses that just the same. "Hopefully what you heard is good, not to take attention from Viannea, but perhaps we can talk, later." That is all that is said. Back to the patient, "How about an extra pillow, open a window, close the air circulation …" Offering a feigned stage whisper to her, he continues aloud, "You know, we're both worrisome, if we're not helping we'll feel inadequate." Not that it seems he would mind not doing anything, he is still smiling the same.

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