Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => St. Mungo's => London => First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries => Topic started by: Griffon Manley on September 02, 2011, 01:33:26 PM
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Griffon had been meaning to check in with Healer Bombay since she had come in to register herself as a werewolf. But he knew that it was likely not an easy thing to adjust to, and didn't want to make her even more uncomfortable than she had been the day she came by to fill out the paper work. That had been an incredibly awkward meeting, and no doubt Griffon had lacked the proper finesse to handle the situation with the proper delicacy. But Griffon had never been one for style or grace. He was a man that said what he thought and didn't hide behind politics or a false sense of reality.
But he decided that if he was going to drop by and check on Hannah, he should at least come with a peace offering in hand (in case he had truly offended her) and as such had stopped by a florist and purchased a simple bouquet of wildflowers. Nothing fancy- but they were pretty and natural, and Griffon preferred wild flowers to the ostentatious arrangements that most men purchased for ladies. Besides, this wasn't a romantic outing, so there was no need for such a display.
He came into Mungo's and found his way to the department that dealt with creature induced injuries. He was no stranger to the staff (his job put him at danger from creatures every day) and after asking a couple of young healers, they pointed him in the direction of where they had least seen Hannah Bombay.
Griffon saw her standing near a desk and approached with a casual smile. He gave her a gentle tap on the shoulder, then held out the flowers for her. (As an offering and as a miniature shield.) "Good morning, Healer Bombay!" he greeted jovially. "Thought I would come by and see how you've been, maybe chat a little."
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The hot coffee slipped down Hannah’s throat smoothly and worked to alleviate the tiredness and stress that had built up since late the night before when she had arrived at the hospital to commence her shift. Now it was the following morning and things finally were settling and calming to allow her a small amount of breathing time to recuperate with caffeine and some parchment to fill out.
The quill tip was dipped into the inkpot on the desk she stood at. Several drops of ink dribbled from the tip and fell onto the wooden surface as Hannah brought the tip to her parchment and continued to elaborately scribe upon the sheet of Madam Happerkarpie’s patient notes.
A healer who should have been covering the proceeding night had been taken ill. Hannah had agreed to come in and prove to her boss she was capable of doing a good job. She’d done the meetings he’d requested and been left further confused and concerned with her patient dealings. The detached young healer still refused to ‘chat’ to werewolves and still remained distant from patients requiring emotional comfort.
Just as Hannah scribbled her signature besides a potion request on the parchment, the strong scent of flowers reached her nose. Her soft features screwed up as she placed the smell before the bearer tapped her shoulder. The witch placed her coffee mug upon the wooden surface and twisted on her heel to face the wizard requesting her attention.
A bouquet of wild flowers was the first thing her set of light brown eyes fell upon. Then her gaze lifted and pale lips pressed together in mild displeasure.
“Chat about what?” The healer asked plainly as she deposited the quill in the pocket of her lime green robes that hung losely over her dress (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=36660156).
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Griffon was less than surprised when she turned, giving him a thin lipped stare. She didn't take the flowers- but instead responded with his request for time to talk with a question instead of an answer. Griffon had thought that Healer Bombay was a nice woman- and yes, also a pretty woman. She had handled Knox with a firm tone and hand, and even though it had been an unpleasant experience had come to register herself... And still she was at work, going about her business, instead of moping about her misfortune. It was quite admirable.
Even so- he was slightly offended that she didn't take the flowers from him and at least pretend to be flattered and amicable. Which was what prompted his response. "Darling, darling, darling! Chat about what? Don't play games with me!" he winked at the witch behind the counter as he leaned on it, smiling brightly at Hannah. "About our magnificent evening! That's what. Though I certainly do think there are some conversations best had in private, don't you?"
"Do you have an office?" Griffon asked. "Or perhaps an empty examining room? They're both suitable," he said with a wink. He knew that he was likely pushing his luck with the nonsense, but was feeling jovial and hoped the jokes wouldn't be totally lost- even if they definitely didn't match Bombay's sense of humor.
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The over the top vivacity of the older jovial wizard before her perplexed Hannah to the point that she stared wide eyed over her glasses at him. She had questioned him calmly which had resulted in a jovial burst to life and the ejaculation of the word ‘darling’ which was suddenly very overused for Bombay’s liking. He accused her of playing games and in a shocked confusion; her lips had parted ever so slightly and Hannah was wondering why on earth it was she that this gigantic whirlwind ball of life has decided to visit.
The only encounters the couple ever had had been thoroughly pleasant. And all the unpleasantness had stemmed from the March full moon. First had been Greyfriar locked in a cell and furious. Hannah had felt physically ill having to deal with her former headmaster in such a thoroughly unpleasant manner. The next had been having to register with Manley and forfeit both freedom and dignity in order to keep her job and prevent being caught illegally transforming and thrown into a cell next to Greyfriar.
And now this. Now the energetic Griffon Manley was once more in Hannah’s company furthering her discomfort.
A quick glanced was spared for the welcome witch on the opposite side of the counter who was doubtlessly delighting in the spectacle before her. The flowers in Griffon’s hand were still ignored and instead Hannah picked up the notes she’d been working on and her half full mug of coffee, turned on her heel and without a word to Manley, set out at a quick pace for an empty room. The majority of the floor was made out of curtained cubicles but there were several rooms for the highly infectious patients or those terminally ill. Hannah chose one of those to enter.
Once the door was closed behind Manley, Hannah decided to speak.
“I’m enough aware that behaviour like that has the ability to start the circulation of rumours. By the end of today I shall either be a known...” Hannah paused. She still had trouble admitting the reality of her condition “be outed as a monster or engaged in inappropriate relations with the head of the department for the regulation and control of magical creatures.” Not that it was the most horrific of ideas but it was certainly unprofessional of them considering her present predicament and now lifelong ailment.
“Whatever do you wish to discuss while I am at work?”
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Griffon couldn't stop the chuckle when she suggested there would be rumors swirling that they were having some sort of affair. He had brought the flowers for just that reason- hoping that the former would never happen. Griffon had no reason to out her publicly as a monster, but as she was required to register rumors got around- if her superiors knew she was a werewolf, so did half of Mungo's by this point.
"I"m disappointed, Miss Bombay!" he said with a smile. "I can't imagine many women would complain if they were rumored to be having an affair with me. Though I think most would know better than to put any stock into it. I'm a self proclaimed life long bachelor. I rather enjoy the company of women, but I have no expectations to tie myself down at any point in time soon. I'm a busy man, and I'm too busy saving the world from rampaging dragons and wayward weres to worry about wooing a lady."
But then she asked why he had come to speak to her- and the always impulsive Manley had not truly considered that stopping by her job to chat would offend her quite so much. But Griffon never was the sort to consider the consequences of his actions. Do first, ask forgiveness later was his usual modus operandi.
"I just wanted to check in," he finally told her, assuming an appropriate tone. "I was worried how you were adjusting, and to be honest I thought a nice bouquet of wild flowers and a friendly word might brighten up your day. I might have been a bit out of line, but I was only teasing. No harm done, right?"
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“Too busy to worry about wooing a wayward were.” Before Bombay could stop them, the worlds flowed from her mouth with no pause for thought. Manley spoke of these wayward weres and ladies as if they were two completely separate entities never to be merged. What seemed to pass his mind was the reality that the witch before him was both. She was a woman, a young woman who granted didn’t explore her own ‘womanliness’ and she was a werewolf. Hannah had tried to phrase it differently in her own mind to aide herself with coming to terms with her new reality. She had become a woman who simply suffered from one of the worst PMTs a woman could suffer. Once every month her own natural cycle turned her into a monster. Literally.
Yet Griffon Manley seemed to either forget this or ignore it while conversing with her and explaining the nature of his visit during her own work hours.
“No harm?” Hannah’s eyes swept over the body of the wizard before her with a quick, well practiced analysing gaze. “So you’re not injured? You don’t need healing attention? An examination?” The mug in the witch’s hand that had been left forgotten for a few moments was now lifted to her lips and she took a long gulp, draining what was left of the now cold bitter liquid.
Hannah placed the mug on a surface besides her and glanced back at the flowers in his hand. “I’ve been awake for over 24 hours, Mr Manley, it’s going to take more than a nice word and a bouquet of flora to enlighten my spirits.” Nevertheless, the healer reached a hand forward and took the flowers from him.
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Griffon arched an eyebrow when she claimed he was too busy to worry about wooing a wayward were. "I wasn't aware you wanted me to be wooing you, Healer Bombay," he said in his usual cheeky tone. "Though on a very serious note, any man who would not be able to look past something out of your control is not worth your attentions. You are a beautiful and brilliant woman, and just because you get furry once a month doesn't mean you're not a human being like the rest of us. It's important not to forget that."
But it wasn't like Griffon to be overly sappy or serious for long, and he laughed when she asked if he was sure he didn't need healing attention or an examination. "If you're trying to get me in a backless, paper gown all you have to do is ask."
Finally she took the flowers from him, stating she'd been awake over twenty-four hours, and no doubt she had a rough night at the hospital and had seen a lot of patients. He knew that being a healer meant many long and arduous days- and obviously it meant his timing was way off. "At least I tried," he offered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I'm sure the only thing that will brighten your day is when you finally get a chance to sleep. Perhaps I should have brought some of those candies that pep people up instead?"
"Either way- you didn't answer my question. Apart from lack of sleep and busy days- how are you?" His tone was serious again, gaze concerned. He knew that this was probably far from easy for her to deal with, and Griffon wanted to be sure that things were okay- he would stand up for her if she needed someone to do it. Griffon hated the way people treated werewolves- most of them didn't ask for the curse, and it was a shame to treat them otherwise.
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Whether Griffon Manley was attempting to have a joke at Hannah Bombay’s expense or seriously trying to cheer her up was unknown to Hannah. Either way she found herself stiffening and feeling extremely uncomfortable in the company of a man that referred to the worst night of each month for her as ‘getting furry once a month’.
And finally the Welsh wizard made a far more sensible remark. That had he wanted to cheer her up, he should have come with something more practical that flowers. Something to give her much needed energy, not the sneezes.
“No worries,” Hannah quickly responded as she indicated the flowers in her grasp, “these will burn beautifully to aide an energy potion.” It took simply a moment to occur to the healer that this friendly, possibly a little inconsiderate visitor would hardly appreciate hearing of his gracious gesture being crushed and thrown into a cauldron with bat’s liver and frogspawn. Yet it was too late, he’d moved on.
Hannah’s lips pursed as she regarded the flowers with thought. “You mean apart from getting furry once a month?” The words came out carefully before her eyes shot up to meet his and Hannah’s expression softened slightly. She lifted her spare hand to her face and pushed the glasses covering her eyes up onto her head, pushing her bushy hair from her face with them.
“I’m fine.” The young witch muttered, lowering the flowers and placing them on the bed before she crossed her arms. “But what I’m not impressed with is the reality that while registering in confidence, anonymity, sounds like a wonderful, much envied concept, it doesn’t exist in actuality. Soon people will become aware and nobody wishes to be healed by a w-...” she paused and shrugged. “Well, no one will wish to be healed by me.”
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Griffon blinked when she claimed the flowers would burn well for an energy potion, but opted not to make a comment on it. If the use of the flowers in an energy potion would help her through the day and possibly give her a smidgen of joy, then he wouldn't begrudge her the use of the flowers he'd brought.
"The reality of things is never what we expect," Griffon told her simply. "And you are a brilliant and marvelous healer I am sure, and if someone chooses to refuse to be seen because of it then that makes them a fool. You did not ask for the affliction, and you've done the responsible thing. The only thing that you can do at this point is try to find peace in knowing that you have done the right thing and that one day things may change. There have been great strides already and hopefully there will be more."
"If it's any consolation, I would let you heal me any day," he added with a wink. "But come now, try to think positively! It's a manageable condition, and taking the proper precautions will prevent you from harming someone accidentally and let you get on with your life as close to normal as it is possible."
Griffon paused for a moment, because he knew that what he was saying sounded like empty, hollow words. He wasn't a were, he was not in her shoes, and couldn't possibly fathom. But he just wanted to help. "If you have any problems you can send me an OWL and I will help take care of it. There are laws in place now to protect people on the wrong end of an such an unfortunate affliction."
"As silly as it may sound to you, the best thing to do is try to stay optimistic and continue performing your duties to the best of your ability. It is not so easy to replace someone with great skill and understanding, and you offer a very particular insight into a world which most do not understand. You could do some good here, Miss Bombay, and nobody should ever pass up the opportunity to do a little good in the world."
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Griffon’s empty, naive words stunned Hannah and she laughed at him. She looked at him and she laughed. It wasn’t a joyous laugh; it was cynical, out of character and harsh. This man’s advice was to sit tight, think positively and wait for things to change. He wanted her to wait for other people to make great strides. Instead of worrying her pretty little head over it, Hannah should stay at work like a good healer and tell other newly changed werewolves the same things he was telling her. That maybe someday things would be better for them; that they just needed to think positively and wait for someone to decide they were a cause worth fighting for.
It was ludicrous.
The laughing didn’t last for long and when it stopped, Hannah scowled across at Manley, arms still folded over her stomach.
“I know how to handle the physicality of my condition, Manley, I’m a healer. And if I ever need help dealing with how people react to me as a monster, I’m certainly not going to owl the wizard that makes an extremely comfortable living locking people like me up in cages.” The witch moved to the entrance of the cubicle and took hold of the edge of the curtain between her fingers.
“Positive thought and sitting around well behaved like a good little wolf would certainly make your life easier. I’m certainly sorry to disappoint.” And with that the curtain was pulled open, a sign she was finished with the conversation, that she wanted him gone.
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"The cages are an unfortunate necessity, Miss Bombay," Griffon said. "I've never been one for inhumane treatment of any person or creature. But the fact of the matter is simple: when you're a werewolf, you're no longer human, and you are a dangerous creature. And if it takes locking a werewolf up a day or two a month to spare innocents, then I'll continue to do it. But putting a human behind bars for no reason is not something I make a habit out of."
She opened the curtain, and Griffon gave her a gruff nod. "My apologies for attempting to cheer you up with a nice gesture. I can see my efforts were wasted. I suppose next time I'll be sure to bring flowers and a smile to someone with enough social graces to understand that good intentions shouldn't be treated so lightly. If you have any questions from here on out, Miss Bombay, be sure to forward them to Mr. Bagnold."
"The two of you have similar temperaments, and I'm certain he can answer any questions with the appropriate level of non-emotion that you require. Have a good day."
Griffon walked out of the small examining room, and then left St. Mungo's. His posture was that of a man with wounded pride- because that was how he had felt. He didn't see the harm or the error in his actions or words. It had come from the heart. Though he certainly was not the most articulate of persons, he had not been cruel, and if she wanted to wallow in misery and self-loathing then let her.