When you do not like to fight, change the rules.

[amberdrake]

Who: Amberdrake and Ilde
What: Ilde's been referred to Amberdrake for therapy, this is a first session.
Where: The old dojo in Howl Barrow
When: Present
Notes: Kestra'chern do kestra'chern things.
Warnings: Talk of suicide, mental illness, etc. It's a therapy session, yo.

Amberdrake rather misses having an assistant. He finishes straightening up one of the twin work-rooms from his last client, who wanted a hot stone and hammer massage and a debate, and takes a moment to re-center himself and relax.

Then he heads for the hallway, and beyond it the walkway, and beyond that, the red gate. He's still wiping faintly lavender-scented massage oil off his hands with a cloth while he waits, humming faintly to himself.

It's hard work, but it's good to be doing his own thing again! He can stop being a glorified spa-worker and get back to being a kestra'chern, and all the things that entails.

Like actually getting to talk to my clients. Even if he has to do it all without an assistant! But I managed fine on my own before Gesten stomped into my life, I can manage again.

Indeed. So here he waits, giving his shoulders an experimental roll as he wipes his hands off. He's in his full kestra'chern garb, complete with the little bells in his hair.

Comments

[rhinemaid]

When Ilde arrives, numerous things are clear - that she's still emotionally young, that she's a little vain, that under the glamour she's wearing she probably isn't human, that she doesn't view pregnancy as a good enough reason to stop wearing high heels - but most obvious is that she desperately doesn't want to be there. So it must mean something, she's reasoning to herself, that she is. That she's made herself come anyway. There isn't anyone to push her into this, just her own two feet, one foot in front of the other, keep going. Make a decision, follow it home.

She wishes she were at home; she wishes she knew more conclusively what she means when she thinks that. Where she means. Not here, anyway, although- it's not like any of the waiting rooms she sat in beside Prisca, kicking her feet while a doctor spoke quietly with her father and her uncle in the next room. It feels different. She hasn't decided what that means, yet, or how she feels about it, but it makes it easier to walk the rest of the way in.

So there's that.