A Snakey and a Heirarch

Asp strolled up to the office where she'd first met Aquinas, the site of his charity. It was an evening, after working hours but before it became unreasonable for the father of two/Heirarch to be home to see his family for the night. It was a good time to meet, and so they had agreed to get their business done quick. The Sentinel figured he probably had things to do. Homework. Telling his daughters to dress appropriately. Making sure they were doing well. That sort of thing. Dad stuff.

She sent him a text message to let him know she was at the front, just in case he was on a call. It never hurt to be considerate. Once she was done, she stuffed her hands and her iPhone into her coat pockets to stay warm against the chill of the December night air.

Star's words rang through her head, about the kind of Sentinel she was going to be. She wasn't pleased that she had to do this, but it was important that Aquinas be apprised of the mental state of his Consilium's greatest warrior and oldest resident.

Casitive

Asp is not wearing sunglasses.

Aquinas | Spells Active | Silver Ladder Status: 1 | Consilium Status 3 (Hierach)

Charities aren't the nine-to-five grind that many other white-collar jobs are. There's always something that needs doing: donors that need talking to, financial compliance that needs approval, a late-coming family that needs counseling. This evening, it's the family. A single mom and her two adolescent boys slip past Asp with Aquinas bringing up the rear.

“Bring the paperwork the City Tax Assessor's office gave you; we'll have the lawyer go over it and see what we can do about the Mortgage you are under,” A hand juts out, shaking the woman's hand firmly – with that assurance that, somehow, everything will be okay. The Mother nods to Asp, offering a closed lipped smile before sweeping her children and herself from view.

It's then, that Aquinas' steely gaze finds the Sentinel. “Come on in,” He tells her, bringing her up the stairs and into the office. “Everyone else has gone home for the day,” he assures, as he moves to a copier and picks up a stack of paper. Another office is slipped into, the stack of papers deposited, and Aquinas keeps moving back to his office. “Did you need anything? Water, Cold Pizza?”

Asp followed Aquinas in with a smile to both him and the family that was on its way out. Her eyes brightened as he offered her that most nectarous food of the Lie, pizza. Cold or hot, pizza was incredible, and she needed calories like what to maintain the sheer amount of muscle and metabolism that the young Sentinel needed. "I'm not gonna lie, water and cold pizza would be great. Been like, two hours since my last meal."

Two whole hours.

"Sorry. I eat like a hobbit. How are you, sir? Business going well?"

The formal stuff could wait until pizza and his office had been acquired.

“Oh, you know,” Aquinas says as he leads Asp through – bypassing his office – to a tiny little kitchenette. The Sink is installed, finally, thank the Oracles. From the Fridge he hands Asp a water-bottle and the rest of a box of cold-pizza. There's half a pizza inside and in the name of hospitality, it's all hers. Besides, Aquinas knows he probably will have dinner waiting for him at home. “Here and there and back again.”

From the kitchenette, he finally enters his office and finds a place to sit. “Well, getting some things done and settling everything in. You?” Aquinas asks turning his attention to the Sentinel, “I doubt you came here simply to get to know me or play chess. What's on your mind?”

Asp chuckled at the Hobbit joke and accepted the pizza box and water bottle, trying not to attack it in transit. "Thanks," she said, shaking the box just slightly to indicate what for. "And I can't complain. Business is getting going at the U," she said vaguely. That wasn't the reason she was here, though. The Sentinel sat down, cracked her bottle and took a sip to wet her palate before she would get to destroying the 'zza. "If only it were that easy, hey? I'd be happy to get destroyed at chess another time, but, umm... I've got some concerns. About Animus."

Here it was.

"I've received some concerns about Animus, and seen some stuff myself that really worries me. It's a pattern of behavior that makes me worry about his ability to do his duty due to his mental state. Like, you know that mission we went on to take out the Scelesti? The one that killed Triquetra. It was..." She looked disturbed. And on Asp, that was a weird look. "We dropped her together, but I killed her. I did it because he's mentally in really bad shape, and I didn't want him to have to wear that. But... when I did, he flew into this torrential rage, turned into a wolf and ripped her to bits with his maw." She shuddered. Having to remember that, remember the way it felt to be covered in Scelesti guts... "Desecrating a corpse, like it was nothing. Threatening Leo Lockheart on the mission, too, and doing nothing about Avalon for years, or Striker's breaches, or Leo threatening Autolycus before Auto poofed. I respect his service, but like... Star called him out recently, when he was visiting our Sanctum. And it was like he was about to attack Star over it."

Asp shook her head, concern written all over her face.

"I'm not really sure what to do about it, sir. But... he's a cop. For the Consilium. You have to know."

Suddenly, she didn't feel so hungry.

Attentive and unerring, Aquinas' gaze settles on Asp as she spills the questions, concerns, and doubts that have bubbled up over Animus. Her description of Animus at his most heinous, stirs the Hierarch to action and his foot pulls a drawer close to the ground – a bottle rolls placidly as it moves. From it, he leans down and draws out a bottle of Johnny Walker, settling it down on the table with a tiny clink along with a pair of glasses.

“I'm glad you've come to me about this,” Aquinas says as he unscrews the top, pouring out a finger and setting it in front of Asp. “It's important that Wisdom take precedence, especially in the office of Sentinel; an office that is a crucible of a person's judgment. Many don't realize how trying the office of Sentinel is as you protect the Consilium from itself and from without.”

“I have my ideas, but let me ask you a question first,” Aquinas says as he takes his glass and looks to Asp. “What would you do?”

Asp's hand drifted over to the glass placed before her, bringing the scotch up to her lips. It burned going down; scotch wasn't her drink of choice at all. She was, like, a screwdriver and tequila sunrise girl, the kind of drinks that a twenty-two year old girl would drink. Still, Asp had a stout constitution, and at this point? Yeah, a bit of a drink would do. "What he needs to do is get connected with Wisdom again. So what I'd do is back seat the duties for a little bit, focus on getting his mental health in order, that sort of thing. So what I'd do is exactly that. Reassignment, so he gets a bit of a break from the kinds of situations that will fray at his conscience. Not for long, even. Just long enough to get his head straight."

She paused, sipping the whisky again.

"From there, I figure it's a matter of finding the right support network to be able to keep his head straight. Every Arrow could use that, really. Battle kinda blurs morality sometimes, but it doesn't have to make you crazy, you know?" Asp shrugged. "I guess I'm not really an expert in psychology and the Mind, right? It'd be too handy if we had one of those lying around, eh?"

Aquinas looks to his glass for a long moment, taking it between his index and pointer fingers as he listens to Asp's thoughts. “I agree,” he says, at last taking a savoring sip from his whiskey. “Battles of the Mind are just as important as Physical Battle,” the Mastigos says.

“The Scars to the Mind are far more insidious than anything done to the flesh,” The Hierarch's advises. “The flesh can heal, but it might take some time for the mind and the spirit to follow suit.” Aquinas sets his drink down on the desk again, “I've heard the local Dreamspeaker has moved on, unfortunately. However, I'm glad Animus has good people in the Arrow to lean back on, who care about him enough to ask for help rather than letting it sit idly by.”

Turning a thought over, he adds, “I've been a Keybearer for quite some-time, though I doubt he'll want to try the paths I would.” Aquinas shrugs lightly, “I'll talk to him, however. If he simply needs time, this Consilium owes him that much.”

It wasn't the first time she'd heard the notion of mental battle being so important, and as Asp glugged some Walker with little social grace and a long blow as she soothed the burn of the unfamiliar scotch, she wondered if she ought to learn Mind one day. Add it to the list, right?

"Sounds good, sir. I think you could probably help him a fair bit, but being perfectly truthful, Aquinas? He's gotta want to help himself, and that's what I've been trying to spark in him. A desire to make his own situation better that he just doesn't have right now. Hopefully you'll see a way home with your knowledge of the Mind that I just don't have?"

Her stomach actually gurgled, and with a look of apology, she made for the pizza to begin its systematic, whole-sale destruction.

“Desire is the root of all action, Asp.” Aquinas replies to the Obrimos. “However, rock-bottom for a man of his stature might be dangerous to everyone else.” Which, honestly looks like it might be the case for Animus. Just how far will the former Hierarch go before he realizes he needs help.

“The Art is only useful and Wise to use, if the other wants it,” the Hierarch states, “and it shouldn't be the only thing that is used to help him. Just like a pill is only a part of the treatment.” Steely eyes look askance as a thought bubbles up and solidifies.

“If he doesn't think he needs help it will fail. If he doesn't think he needs assistance, he'll throw up walls and burn his bridges.” A delicate situation to be sure, “So, he'll be given a chance to step down and take the time he needs. All anyone needs to do is to make sure he knows that you – that we – are there if he needs us.”