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[inflictwounds]

Hieke
UN: Hieke

STATUS: School Nurse, Professor Of Healing

ACCOLADES: Keeps everyone alive. Usually.

BIO: Always ready and willing to help in an emergency! Please don’t break yourselves too badly.

© TESSISAMESS

Comments

[Action; Days after Karaoke]

[unpocoloco]

[He's lost time. A lot of time. He knew he would in all this but now that it's all crept up, it's become heavy. Not that he can do anything about it. The important thing is handling it all as soon as he can.

Which is why, that night, he goes around to Hieke's office, after class. He takes a breath and rap the back of his hand off the door.]

Señor Hieke, are you in?

[inflictwounds]

[It's probably a good thing Hieke is a workaholic - finding him in his office isn't a difficult task.

He blinks up once Héctor calls for him, before motioning for him to step inside.]

Of course I am. [Where else would he be!!] Is something the matter?

[unpocoloco]

[Why were so many in this place either over-achieving workaholics or general hopeless slackers? A question for another time. ]

Ah, yes. There's something important I wanted to speak to you about. It's regarding one of the students here. Can I shut the door? It's kind of a private matter.

[inflictwounds]

[Because sometimes it just be that way.]

Of course, yeah, that's perfectly fine. [He wonders, briefly, which student it is. There's so many of them that seem to excel at getting into trouble.]

[unpocoloco]

[The door clicks. He takes a breath, needing a moment before he begins.]

I don't know if you recall, but about a month ago, there was a boy in the infirmary. He goes by Peter Parker. I was told you tried to fix a scar for him.

[deuteranope]

fucking frequent flyer of yours ditched when we tried to make him go to the infirmary

Toki tried to dig his own eye out

something about a daemon

I did my part he's your fucking responsibility now

[inflictwounds]

Well, thank you for the heads up. I'll go look for him.

[deuteranope]

yep

[...............]

would you be able to tell if I fucked it up somehow?

[inflictwounds]

Probably not? Not unless your magic is the kind to leave marks.

[deuteranope]

fucking fantastic

7/17 - Action, Infirmary

[caduceusoncall]

[Angela hovers outside of the door to the infirmary. They haven't spoken since...well. They haven't spoken in a bit. But she's been struggling with this for days. It's becoming a distraction, on top of eating her alive inside.

When she musters up the courage to open the door, she lingers there in the doorway a long moment before she starts.]

Hieke.

[It's the first thing she's said to him in three days.]

[inflictwounds]

[He's not expecting this. Truly, he's expecting Angela to never speak to him again. That would be the easier thing to do.

He presses his lips together, looking up at her from his desk.]

Dr. Ziegler.

[It's easier when you have a title, he supposes. Less familiarity.]

[caduceusoncall]

[Sometimes the easier thing to do is also the worst. Because they can't keep doing this. Not forever.]

I am sorry.

[She shifts uncomfortably. It's hard to own up to your own mistakes, even or perhaps especially as an adult.]

I acted unprofessionally, for one, but much worse than that, I acted on an unfair bias. I had no right to...

[She clears her throat instead of continuing that sentence. This is, in some ways, more than an apology. Because despite her best efforts she's not just talking to Hieke right now. She's talking to a whole slew of thoughts and feelings she's ignored for years.]

[inflictwounds]

[He's...extra not expecting that. Out of everything he expected out of this conversation, an apology wasn't one of them.

But he...doesn't believe it. Not completely. Why would she apologize to him? What does she have to gain out of this? It's not like she could possibly care about his feelings.

But he doesn't voice any of that, instead slowly nodding his head.]

I don't know that I would call that unfair.

[caduceusoncall]

No, it was.

["It isn't." she thinks, in the back of her mind. But no, it is unfair, and she will explain why. To herself or to him is debatable. As per usual with her apologies, the words come out as professional and the sentences wind on past their welcome. It's the only way for her to do it without collapsing in on herself out of shame.]

You were not responsible. To dismiss you and all of the good you have done in your lifetime as one and the same with the parties responsible for their deaths is unfair at best. Cruel, at worst.

[Swallowing her pride tastes remarkably like bitter bile in her throat. Funny, that.]

I attributed to you all the suffering inflicted upon me that day and days thereafter. For that, I am sorry. I will not pretend the fear in me is gone. It will take time for me to process that. But I can't in good faith go on passing by you in silence, knowing that I did something immature and foolish, and knowing that you had to carry the weight of my words because of it.

October 10th

[hattersgonnahat]

hieke?

since youre a daemon an all.....do you know how to make mist?

[You are her only hope at this. She needed to make something for a gift, as well as finish that project...]

[inflictwounds]

What kind of mist do you need?

[hattersgonnahat]

the kind that comes from the outlands!

i can make stuff out of it, and theres a big party coming up.

[inflictwounds]

I can probably make something close enough that works, though I don't think I could make a lot of it.

[hattersgonnahat]

theres other kinds?

that might work...

[Thought mist was kind of just a 'one size fits all' sort of deal. Won't know until trying it though!]

[She eventually glanced over at the Time Piece sitting at her table. Thinking for a moment.]

.....i kinda need it to fix something too. [Later adds on.]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[deuteranope]

It's no shocker that it was all healers on deck for the impending battle, though he hadn't expected the Inn of Atropos to be where they were all being put up for time leading up to doomsday. He supposed it was a nice way for his mom to secure an extra chunk of money from the academy, should they all survive this or whatever, but he's not exactly thrilled about the whole being made to sit behind a desk, turn down sheets, and deliver food and drinks to various rooms. He scrolls through the computer’s reservation list, trying to tell himself it's purely out of boredom or to see which rooms he could drag his feet on service for, but the more he scans the names, the harder it becomes to ignore the fact that his frown is one of frustration. What, did that asshole skip out on Mama’s hospitality because of Mav being a dick, back then? Like he couldn't be professional, even if he did feel the same way, now! Tch.

...Whatever. It didn't fucking matter, anyway.

---

Getting himself saddled with a Contract was a hell in and of itself, but there were so many things making it worse. Healing magic was fine. Great, even! Be nicer if he could use it on himself, sure, but he knew enough accident-prone people to be able to take comfort in the fact that he has something he can do to help those he cares about.

The method, however, left much to be desired. As did the teacher.

Maverick raps his knuckles on the classroom door before pushing it open with a sigh. He stops for a moment, almost as if savoring the possibility of freedom, but it isn't long before he's shutting the door behind him and shoving his hands in his pockets. Time to smack his head against the wall trying to pay attention to some demon droning on and on about magic shit he couldn't get a good handle on… Trying to make some connection inside to make it all easier to manage, instead of him blowing his load all in one go at it. He plops his butt on a desk, face a mirror of his unenthusiastic mood.

“Let’s get this the fuck over with.”

---

He has the same feeling now, knocking on the room door and pausing to give someone a chance to process it, should they be inside. It wasn't a name he recognized, so there was no secret pleasure to be held in breezing his way inside without respect for someone’s privacy, or in making them wait an extra half hour (at least) for whatever it was he had to bring them. It was seeming like a mindless rotation of food, drinks -- lots of drinks, almost like people were preparing for the end of the world, or something, ha fucking ha -- and towels or fresh sheets. At least the shift was about to switch over soon… If he measured things right, he might be able to swing this being the last customer he had to see for the night before he got to kick back with his own series of fruity cocktails that would lull him to sleep. It’s a pleasant thought.

“Service,” Mav calls, and if he cared more or it wasn't so automatic, he might be proud of himself for sounding neutral instead of the put-upon, tired son that he unmistakably is. “Coming in.”

[inflictwounds]

Being back in Soleil is stranger than she thought it was going to be... Hana had never meant to leave for so long, but, well. Faith needed her help, and her brother had kindly suggested that for once in her life she stop and find what would make her happy. It's something he's been suggesting for at least decades, but she can't say why this time she listened.

It's... Been nice, though, to finally feel certain of who she is. She's still riding the high of knowing, but that sort of bliss doesn't mean the world isn't ending and that she doesn't have a job to do. There's only so many healers with ability like hers, she knows, so she pops back up to the sigil she left in the infirmary and makes her way to Soleil. (Just because they didn't get rid of the sigil she left doesn't mean she's still a member of staff.)

She's not sure if it's a good or bad thing the inn is run by Maverick's mother. She hasn't seen the redhead yet, but she knows he works there, and things with him have always been... More difficult than they need to be. The boy - man? - is endlessly frustrating, and he had a way of getting underneath her skin few did. It was exhausting, but she couldn't make herself just ignore him...

--

"You could at least try to pretend you care," he mutters, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes narrow in Maverick's direction, before he lets out a sigh.

He... Doesn't hate this part of his job. It's not what he's good at, and he knows it. Everyone else knows it, too, but it's not like there's anyone else on staff who can do this. Ekkehardt is busy, and his healing is more about keeping people from dying than as comprehensive as Hieke's. Still, it would be nice to not have students who hated his guts attending...

"So," he starts, straightening. His tail flicks behind him, and he cocks his head. "What's the worst injury you've ever healed? Successfully."

And, maybe, he'll actually get a straight answer.

--

She startles at the knock on her door, but she doesn't have time to - to hide? Before Mav is walking in, carrying the towels she was going to use as blankets for Stool and Rumpadump. Maybe, she thinks with foolish hope, he won't recognize her. She'll just be a strange daemon woman he's never seen before in his life and she won't have to explain anything.

But, she knows, that even if she looks different now, even though she's changed her body to be more comfortable, there are still things about her that are distinct and familiar. The asymmetrical horns, the golden eyes, the spade of her tail... Not to mention there aren't very many daemons who would be running around taking care of myconid children. The only way Maverick won't recognize her is if he's dumber than she thinks he is.

"Uh," she says, frozen in place. "...Hi."

[deuteranope]

"Whatever. I care, I just don't care for the company," he grumbles, ever honest when it comes to his distaste. Nothing new, but somehow, it seemed, never quite established enough.

'Successfully'. The little addition makes him scowl all the more and it's by pure, unusual restraint that he doesn't bite back with a 'fuck you'. It's a test, he thinks unfairly. Something Hieke is using to bait him into putting more effort in, like he hadn't been trying before. The thought simmers angrily even though he's forcing his brain to redirect and think about the question. He doesn't need this shit.

"Mousie's trying to claw his fucking eye out." The first time had been the worst, and he'd be okay with it staying the worst for a long time. Everything else since then... Scrapes and scratches, bruises and burns... All minor. "What a jackass. Didn't even fucking thank me."

That whole mess bothered him, still. Maybe even more than having to learn from a daemon.

--

"Oh, you guys," he greets the mushrooms dully before taking in the actual customer. Then he realizes that you guys meant that --

Maverick looks over to the woman with startled eyes, gaping at her until she speaks, and then he's closing his jaw with a click of teeth. Before his brain has a chance to catch up, he takes one of the towels off his stack and chucks it at her. Not too hard, and his aim is absolute shit, so it's really more just. A tantrum. Embarrassing.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You booked under a fake name, like I wasn't going to figure it out?! I fucking do everything around here, dumbass!

[inflictwounds]

He tries very hard not to sigh - it's not exactly a response that surprises him. Maverick has never been one to hold back from saying what he thinks, and he knows that the boy hates him solely for being a daemon. Which... Is fair, he thinks sometimes, because who would like or trust a daemon? They're not supposed to be trusted.

He purses his lips, and it's not like he doesn't remember that whole mess. But still...

"And how did you feel, after this?" Because if Maverick can't heal without wasting all of his energy, he's a useless healer. Hieke tries to keep his voice soft and even, projecting as much patience and kindness he can. It would be easier, if he wasn't so certain Maverick hated him.

--

Hana watches the towel flutter to the floor several feet to her left - and, really. Maybe she deserved that? But also.

"Changing my name doesn't mean it's fake," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. That's really the only defense she has, but Maverick can't be the only one pitching a fit. "And besides, if you knew it was me, you'd still be pissed off, so what does it matter?"

There's not a single way this could've gone down with Maverick getting mad, she thinks. And, really, she doesn't owe him anything, which is something that's taken her too long to learn.

[deuteranope]

He's convinced it's patronizing, this patient tone, because he's an idiot. That's why he starts out by avoiding the answer he knows his teacher is actually looking for.

"Pissed, duh. Fucker bled all over me and my bed." He'd more been pissed about Toki refusing to go to the infirmary, actually, and had wanted to hit him when he'd zoomed off down the hall and out of sight... But being covered in what had then been a friend's blood and not knowing how his first attempt at healing had really gone had really freaked him out. It wasn't until the adrenaline from that -- and from getting his second ever kiss for what he'd thought were more worthwhile reasons shortly after his first -- that he'd been able to consider his physical state and not just the mess of his emotional one.

"I don't fucking know. Not tired? I don't think so, anyway, it's hard to remember that shit, it was a while ago." After another beat, he offers a more helpful grumble, "Empty, I guess. Figured it was just coming down from that fucking shitshow."

--

At least presently, he has the awareness to feel stupid when he's an idiot, sometimes. For example, he feels plenty stupid for not thinking she was actually using this different name to go along with her brand new look. It was weird, though! He'd have thought a daemon would have figured this sort of thing out before now... Not that he actually knows how old she is, he realizes. Hm. Well, she looked good for her age, at any rate. That thought isn't helpful at all.

"Oh fuck off," Maverick huffs, setting the remaining laundry aside on the dresser and crossing over to pick up and fold his poorly-aimed missile. "You know how much time I wasted trying to find your reservation? Thought you'd fucking turned down Mama's generous offer, which would have been fucking stupid as fuck."

But this here, his rambling, that's absolutely not stupid as fuck. Clearly. The towel, now neat again, gets dropped onto the bed seconds before Mav decides to make himself at home -- and hey, Atropos is his home! -- on the corner.

"So, Hana, right? She? They?"