Jun 24 04:00:13 106 PA - The Other Doctor's Visit
From Chronicles
un 24 04:00:13 106 PA - The Other Doctor's Visit
Kingsdale - Magic District
It is late in the evening and dark, but many places in the city do not sleep. Leonard exits the Guild Shop, lacking his normal cloak, or most any of his standard attire. Once upon the street, he begins to walk north towards the remainder of the city, with only a small indication of limp in his right leg.
Ema is on her way home, hands in her pockets as she walks, looking very un-emaish in jeans and a loose t-shirt, her eyes on the ground before her has she walks slowly, as if her mind is a million miles away.
Leonard isn't the most attentive tonight, either. His eyes are not upon the ground, but his thoughts are also elsewhere. He does not immediately notice others out walking, even if they might be few and far between.
Ema does notice Leo at last, her eyes lifting off the pavement as she scans for road markers. Seeing the mage causes her to stop, her hands sliding out of her pockets as she abruptly changes directions as to avoid their paths inersecting. She angles her self towards the sidewalk, hoping to try to loose herself in the crowd as she heads back the way she came.
There really isn't much of a crowd, and perhaps it's the scuff of a sudden stop and reverse that provokes Leonard's absent glance around. He only notes her from the rear, now, but some measure of recognition is triggered. "Ema?" He's not entirely certain of her identity, given the casual wear.
Ema has seconds to make a descion, the options only two that she can see. She stops, shoulders sagging ever so slightly as she turns, eyes lifting from the ground to find Leo's face, "Hello Leonard," she says softly but loud enough to carry. She remains where she is, however, and lets the man decide wether to approach or not.
"What's the matter?" A monster of a question, but it does not prevent Leonard from approaching her, indeed, "You're not too shy to accept my thanks, are you?" There is a dusting of soft humor over words that are casual and friendly.
"I don't deserve thanks, Leonard. I almost killed you, and after you sent a goon after me, his head filled with half-truths, It was the least I could do to try to square the two of us. I want no more trouble, I just want to try to pick up the few pieces left of my life here." Her eyes are intently focused on you, and her face remains calm as she slides her hands back into her pant pockets.
Leonard's pleasantries deform into a scowl. "If you are referring to Sebastien, I didn't send him after you. I didn't send anyone after you, nor did I want anyone to even be involved. Apparently he has no concept of a personal matter." A sigh is vented and he looks away a moment before returning his gaze to hers. "I apologize for whatever he said or did, and I should not have even mentioned anything in his presence. I thought that you came to the hospital of your own accord, and not due to coersion."
"I came because it was the right thing to do, I should not have let you get to me the way you did. It was embrassing for me to let myself lose that much control over you. I owed you the kindness you've never shown me, and I had hoped it would set me on a better path." she holds your eyes still, jaw muscles twitching a bit, "And maybe it did." she shrugs her shoulders.
"I..." Her words start to bring Leonard's smile back to the forefront, then others cause his lips to purse. "I was glad that you came, and not just because of the mending of my wounds. A fight wasn't what I wanted from you, but I thought that it's what you desired from me. I am sorry if I was wrong."
"I wanted to hurt you," she says matter of factly, "I wanted you to hurt like you had hurt me. And I wanted you angry, to maybe lose control." She takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly through her nose, "Everything I said in the ring, about Vixen, it was all to upset you, none of that was real. I just wanted you angry. Neither of you have to worry about me anymore."
Leonard sighs. "I did lose control, Ema, and that is much of how I hurt you. Your threats in the ring did anger me, and you did hurt me, if not entirely in the way you wished to. Unfortunately, not all believe they were empty threats, even though I believed them to be."
Ema's eyes narrow a bit, and she seems to bite back a comment that threatened to leap from her lips, "Who else heard my empty threats, Leo? It was just me and you?" She seems to be giving you the benefit of the doubt, like perhaps she doesn't quite believe what she's inferring, "Surely you didn't mention things spoken in the heat of the ring to her..."
"You wanted me angry," Leonard frowns, "but I was terrified, Ema. I couldn't be certain it was just talk, and wasnn't about to take the chance with Vix. Of course I told her, and she hasn't been outside in anything less than full armor since." He isn't angry in their little conversation in the middle of the dark street, just frustrated.
Rasputin walks softly with his cane *clicking* along the street as he does. He moves at a casual pace. His outfit smartly corridnated with his shoes and gloves. At a quick glance, he doesn't seem to be worried about anything really. Just out for a walk, at this odd hour of the day.
"Just wonderful, Leonard. So I can pretty much expect her too..." she stops herself, eyes closing a moment as she squeezes them shut, another calming breath, "Fine, its fine. Just tell her not to mess with me," she looks up at Leo, "please? I don't want my life to be like this anymore. I've found a way, I think, to start over, and it may put me in a place where i'll being seeing more of her, and I don't want to have to worry about her ruining this for me. I really don't know what I'd do then." Her ears twitch, the clicking catching her attention and she looks around, noting another familiar face.
Leonard shakes his head and his tone becomes emphatic. "No. I won't let her do anything. She..." He pauses at the sounds of approaches and he steps closer, volume lowering. "She would be glad to no longer worry, I'm sure. If you've found something you want, I'll do everything I can to help." A hand reaches for her shoulder and a flicker of smile returns. "I willingly took that beating on your behalf. A bit of tongue lashing and butting heads with Vixen to dissuade her from anything vengeful seems almost simple by comparison."
Rasputin continues to walk, *click* *click* his metal tipped cane strikes the stone street, ringing softly over the hard surface of the ground.
Rasputin continues to walk, *click* *click* his metal tipped cane strikes the stone street, ringing softly over the hard surface of the ground. There is a soft hum coming from him, as he walks. Every now and then he pauses and looks in the window of a shop. After a few moments, he continues on his walk. He hasn't acknowledged the fact there is someone he knows on the street with him, but perhaps he hasn't noticed yet.
"Thank you, Leonard. I think you'll find it best for all parties involved if we give each other some space, and act like adults when we're forced together." she looks over her shoulder again at the dwarf, eyes narrowing a bit as she tries to decide what he's up too.
"It is the least I can do, Ema." Leonard's smile is momentarily strained as his hand returns to his side. "This was my doing, afterall. No one will hunt you, but you don't need to be a stranger, either." He finally falls silent as he looks to the approaching tappity tap, if just to attempt some modicum of privacy.
Rasputin contiues to walk, and then, as if drawn by a string, makes his approach towards the two conversing in the wee hours of the morning. His cane telegraphing his arrival, "Dobroe utro to you boths." He says with a smart little nod, and tug of his beard.
Ema once more seems to hold something back, that part of her that craves confrontation being held in check by an impressive, and rare show of willpower. She seems about to comment when the dwarf nears, and she seems happy for the distraction, "Whats up, Rasputin," she says, the formality draining from her momentarily, as she looks back to Leo, "Have you two met?"
A lot whistle, playful, familiar. Seb's got the Ugly covered. Is Emayn Good or Bad? Riding on on his tall armored warhorse, the young knight plies the tune between pursed lips, his pig-nosed helmet shielding his damaged face from the world. He's attached the odd green streamer to weave into Sara's mane, another pair blowing idly from his upper arms. Sara's hoof falls slow to match with the beat, and Sebastien pauses there a dozen paces to stare down at the little Ema. He whistles again, the streamers dancing in the morning light. He's so overdone it's rather comical.
Leonard shifts his attention slightly to Rasputin and nods in acknowledgement and partial agreement. "In passing, I believe, yet not formally..." His words trail off with the new sounds of approaching whistles and hoofbeats. He turns, looks, and promptly rowns.
Rasputin nods as he comes to a stop a respectful distance from the two of you, perhaps meter and a half. "Da, I am pleaseink to be meetinks you." He smiles and nods to Leonard. He looks to Emayn and begins to say, "I was hopinks that, I might be troublink you for instructions in the gyms? I am seeinkink to be learnink, how you say," He pauses and is about to say something, when he too turns and looks over his shoulder towards the person riding a horse. He looks back to Emayn, and tugs on his beard, then back to the person on the horse.
The look on Ema's face does an eloquent job of emoting the groan her vocal cords fail to emit, though one can very easily picture her palm slapping into her face as she watches the scarred man approach on his steed. She does her best to regain her composure, jawline flexing and relaxing and flexing again as she appears to grind her teeth. She tears her eyes away from the mounted man as she looks over at Leonard, then back to Rasputin, "A little boxing? Yeah, I think we might be able to work that out, though a bit of tit for tat might be in order. Perhaps a few lessons in the kitchen?"
The horse comes to a stop with Sebastien's whistle, and the young knight bows from horseback, calling down, "Bonjour madame et messieurs! I hope you are all well rested." He leans forward, brushing up his visor to peer down at the little Ema with a twinkle in his eye. His scarred face is lit by the various displays and readouts of his armor, eyes dancing with the reflections. "And you, my little firecracker, is it that you have slept well?"
It is regretable that the interesting image of Ema cooking is mostly obscured in Leonard's imagination by Sebastien's presence. He remains generally between the knight and Emayn, but says nothing just yet.
Looking at the man on the horse and understanding his words. Rasputin only nods to the individual then looks back to Emayn. He tugs his beard and nods, "Da. That would be doink very goodink. I would be havink no problems teachink you cookink? Da? All types." He smiles, "You be teachink me howink to box, I be teachink you secret family receipt for Borscht. Da?" His smile broadens into something almost impossible, as he tugs his beard again. He makes a small motion to the side, so as not to have Sebastien and his large stead to his back.
"Oh I don't sleep," she offers the mounted man, her neck craned to attempt to meet his eyes "I find it leaves one much to vulnerable. I'd hate to end up with..." and she stops, eyes darting away from the man as the muscles in her neck tense and release, and her hands have vacated her pockets. Looking back over to Rasputin she nods, "We'll figure out some sort of arrangement, I think." her eyes flicker to Leo, and volumes are spoken in that brief instant.
"Really?" Sebastien asks softly, and he tosses a leg over his horse to fall in a dull thud of steel on pavement. "I hear this will drive a person crazy, the lack of REM sleep." His eyebrows raise, laughter in his eyes, as he strides towards her. "Perhaps I could help you, mademoiselle? I could keep watch so that you could sleep, every once in a while?" He flashes a quick grin at Leonard before he suggests, "Keep the bogey-man away?"
"You still lack the decency or understanding to let private matters remain so." Leonard watches Sebastien's dismount and approach with focused interest. "If you're here to threaten, don't. If you're wanting to make your interest in her personal..." He glances sidelong to Ema and can't help but smirk bemusedly as he looks back to Sebastien. "Good luck."
Rasputin rests both of his hands on the top of the cane's promel, and just stays quiet for the moment. His head just moves back and forth watching the conversation between both Emayn and Sebastien.
Ema wants to be anywhere but here, that much is obvious, her willpower keeping her tone somewhat in check, "Am I not already well past crazy?" She takes a deep breath, letting it out quickly through her nose, wildness in her eyes growing and then fading, "Besides, who would protect you from me, Tex?" civility fading a bit as she seems to reconsider politeness.
"I will have to take my chances," Sebastien replies with a wink, and he grins at Emayn. "My name is Sebastien Dubois. I hav never been to this Texas, but I hear it is an interesting place." He rolls his eyes towards Leonard, and points. "You sir, are no longer getting a Christmas card." His chin raises, and he tilts his head to the right. "Well, I thought I would offer. A good night's sleep is a much better solution to our problem than this ... this silliness we have between us. Well. Think it over. I bid all of you adieu!" The young knight turns then, reaching back for Sara, pouring up into his saddle like a waterfall run backwards.
Leonard seems to relax with Sebastien's withdraw, regardless of no further future holiday greetings. He gives Ema a final glance and nod before turning to continue on his way north for the remainder of the city, and home.
Rasputin watches as Leonard strolls away, then looks up to the re-mounted individual. He keeps his hands, both of them, firmly on the top of his cane's promel. He smiles a bit, and says nothing. His eyes scanning side to side just a little bit.
Sebastien clicks his tongue, the armored warhorse plodding dutifully off in a northernly direction. His finger drums faintly on the pommel of his sword, an idle gesture, the flags at his shoulders flapping quietly in the morning breeze. Not a glance is cast back. He's confident to a fault, it seems.
