hieke (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inflictwounds) wrote2019-01-13 10:21 pm
inflictwounds) wrote2019-01-13 10:21 pm
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HiekeUN: 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.
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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."
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'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!
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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.
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"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?"
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"Empty, right, because you use all of your magic at once while you heal." He straightens up, running a hand through his hair. He has his human form today, even though it feels uncomfortable and wrong, but... He's hoping it makes Maverick feel just. Slightly more comfortable. "So that's what we're going to practice. Moderation."
He picks up a knife, tapping the flat of the blade against the palm of his hand while he waits for a reaction.
--
She watches him warily, tapping her fingers against her arms. She was really expecting a worse reaction than him just... Babbling nonsense at her.
"I only would've turned it down if I truly couldn't make it," she says after a moment, very decidedly not looking at Maverick. That's a very interesting lamp they've got in there. "But I can't miss something like this, so..."
She gestures vaguely, trailing off. When Maverick sits down on her - well, is it really hers? - bed her gaze turns back to him, and she frowns for a moment before sighing. When she speaks next, she sounds... Incredibly nervous.
"She. Please. I know it's... Different."
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"What are you doing?"
Because he can really think of any good reason why that shit should be out, buddy.
--
"Damn fucking right. Atropos's the shit, you'd have to be a real fucking moron to pass it up." But more to what Hana had actually been alluding to... "All us dispensaries on deck, huh?"
At least it was...something he could do. Him and his bat could only get so far, even with all the runes he'd been teaching himself. Competent healers being a comparative rarity, it was more useful for him to work as a sort of battle medic than full on offense. Hana's probably the same way. Daemons knew all sorts of tricks, and she was sure to be able to do much more than play nurse to a bunch of shitty teens, but...a nurse is what they needed.
Briefly, he scans over her and muses about the odds of there being a uniform fitting to her profession tucked away somewhere. Ridiculous cartoon voices whistle in his head and prompt him to tease when he opens his mouth again.
"No kidding. Nice tits, Teach. I approve." Which, like, it's all good, now that his head isn't shoved so far up his ass he couldn't appreciate the finer points of Hana.
Ah. Hm.
Boy, he could use a cigarette. If only he could smoke on the clock. "Look, I'm not gonna be an asshole about it, so relax. I'm not that kinda piece of shit." Just a regular piece of shit! "Anyway -- good you're fucking here. I wanted a chance to talk to you before we all fucking ate it."