His call with Kite over, Miach had started getting busy again. He didn't dare remain idle for too long, it always brought back bad memories. Very bad memories. And so when he looked up from his paperwork, it was already past time he was gone.
Cursing and hurrying, Miach rushed to his desk, grabbed his bag, and left a puzzled cat in his wake. It seemed luck was on his side, because he managed to grab a cab at a moment's notice, and there was no jam in the least. He rushed out of it, leaving a solid fifty, and looked at the building in front of him. It was the place, no doubt about it, but... it seemed different. Worn out, maybe. Or perhaps it was his perception that had changed...
Whatever, when the Acanthus buzzed, no one came, and he guessed he had managed to be early despite his late start. A good omen, perhaps ?
“Miach?” The familiar voice came from some distance behind him.
Back on the street, Kite’s car – a smallish beige Honda Civic which had obviously seen better days - had pulled up against the curb near the gate. “Why don’t you come inside? We’ll go in through the garage and take the elevator up…”
At the sound of his name called, Miach turned back quickly, half-crouching and already ready to duck. It was only then that he noticed it was Kite talking, and he relaxed. A bit. It was someone that looked like Kite, at least.
"Kite... hiya. Coming this moment." he said, taking his bag he had left on the ground while never breaking line of sight, and walking to the Thyrsus.
Upon seeing Miach’s reaction to him calling out, the libertine’s expression immediately became more concerned, his demeanor much more serious. He quickly turned the car off and grabbed his leather briefcase before walking quickly and reassuredly to Miach’s side. “Actually, I can leave the car parked out here a while” he verbally decided in a calm, smooth, even tone. After shooting Miach the most reassuring expression he could muster, he calmly started to walk towards the building, his case in one hand, his cane in the other. “Follow me, I’ll let us in”
It took only a moment to fish out the keys to the door, and after entering in the keycode, the visibly worried libertine let Miach into the Catalyst building and summoned the elevator. Although it was clear that he was somewhat troubled by what he had just witnessed, he purposely remained silent until they had gotten out of the elevator and were walking to the main apartment door. “So,” he started as he fished out the door key, “would you like something to drink? We have soda, juice, and other beverages if you like…”
"Yeah, let's do this." Miach replied, glad that he wouldn't have to enter an unknown car and be in a confined space with someone else without much freedom of movement. He followed the Shaman inside the building, and even though it was less relaxed than the last time - when Miach had passed out from alcohol - it reminded of good time, more carefree ones. Was it what getting old meant ? Becoming less and less carefree, until you couldn't bear it any longer ?
The building seemed well secured, at least. And if the man could enter so easily, it probably meant he was the real Kite. Another reason to relax, then. The offer of beverage was too good to pass, and Miach was glad for the excuse to dally a bit more before... before.
"If you had rum, that would be great. But a beer would be good enough too, of course." he said, his eyes trying to catch the whole room at once.
Kite paused a moment at the request for alcohol, stopping even as he was in the middle of unlocking the door, blinking a few times as he mentally pondered the request. His consideration only lasted a few moments though, and he had unlocked the door and entered the main living area a few mere seconds later. "Actually... let's hold off on the alcoholic beverages for a little while." Kite shot Miach what he hoped was a disarming smile as he walked to the small kitchen in one corner of the expansive main room. "It's still a little early for me, and I would like both of us to be clear-headed for our discussion. Maybe after we talk, I can look and see what we have on hand..."
After putting his things on the partition separating the kitchen from the rest of the living area, Kite fished out two glasses, filling one of them with ice before opening a can of Ginger Ale. "If I may be forward..." he started as he began to fill his own glass, "you seem to be a bit... well... on edge. At least, based on what I saw outside." The libertine psychiatrist tossed away the empty can into the recycling bin before turning again towards his guest. "Would that be related to why you called me?"
"Oh," almost as an afterthought, he offered the filled glass to Miach, "if you don't like Ginger Ale, we have other drinks available..."
The answer to his request that Miach got from the Shaman brought a grunt to his lips, but he otherwise refrained from replying. He was self-aware enough to know why he couldn't help asking. As he followed Kite into the living room, he turned his head left and right, and relaxed a bit. It was large, and that felt better. He was sick of cramped places for the time being.
The Acanthus didn't like the question being asked while Kite poured the the Ginger Ale in a glass, but it hadn't exactly been unexpected. Far from it, actually, much as it pained him. He kept silent for a second, hiding his wincing behind the glass as he drank half of it silently in one drought.
"Yeah..." he admitted to noone in particular. "Could say that..."
He raised his head, and looked straight at the man he hoped to get help from. Was it really a good choice ? Did he really have a choice, in the end ? He had already answered that, otherwise he wouldn't be here.
"Heard about... my circumstances ?" he asked, though he guessed the news had spread around the community already.
“No, I hadn’t.” For a second, the libertine seemed to be caught off guard by the sudden revelation. “You weren’t mentioned by name… I had heard that something happened to you, but I didn’t make the connection. I certainly didn’t hear any details…” The libertine shot Miach a sympathetic glance at the sudden revelation, before turning away to finish fixing his own ginger ale. It took only a moment to finish, and he was no sooner done when he quickly walked over to one of the larger chairs in the room.
“If you like, we could talk in here” he motioned to another nearby sofa, placing his drink on the coffee table that lied between them. “or we can move to my private office if you think you would feel more comfortable there...”
The gaze Miach got after his coming out was one he was getting sick of. And it looked shifty. He closed his eyes, and reminded himself of Esmeralda, and his downside relationship with her. Bracing himself, he let the moment slide.
"I'm not much of a divan-guy..." he said, before sitting down in the sofa in front of Kite, but so as to keep an eye on most of the room. "So... what's next ? I spill my life, and I magically feel better ?" he could hear the aggressiveness in his voice, but even if he knew better, it was hard to keep it from rising up.
“If only it were that simple” Kite grimaced as he sat down with Miach. “First, we need to figure out what’s going on… as a doctor yourself, you should appreciate the need for an accurate diagnosis before determining a proper treatment.”
Leaning to his side, he fished out a pad of paper that was in his leather briefcase. After flipping a few pages and retrieving a pen from his pocket, Kite looked towards Miach, ready to begin. “Let’s start with something reasonably straightforward: What happened recently that prompted you to seek out my help?” The libertine psychiatrist looked towards Miach with curiosity. “I don’t mean the kidnapping… although I suspect we’ll be covering that at some point” he carefully added. “I mean: what happened today – or within the past couple days – that eventually made you dial my phone number?”
Draft this Post
