IC Contact Post [Hadriel]

[mismanagement]

This is Maketh Tua. State your business.

Comments

[mismanagement]

Yes.

[It's not as bad as she feared. The things he's suggested are reasonable enough and even if the conversation has gotten frustrating in places, it hasn't hurt in the ways that she feared it might.

Maketh nods carefully.]

Are we done?

[lifetothefullest]

[Okay, good. They set some clear, attainable goals, and now it's up to her to work on them for a bit and see how it goes.

He nods as well, at her question.]

I think it's a good place to stop for now, yes, unless you have any objections or questions.

[mismanagement]

I do not.

[Maketh watches him for a moment.]

Now what?

[lifetothefullest]

Now we're done. You can collect whatever arsenal you left in the other room, and then do whatever it you'd normally do at whatever time it is right now.

[He's not being flippant--there's no dismissive tone to his words--he's just dropped the formality now that the session is over, and he's definitely exhausted. He's not sure he's going to bother getting up, actually; this chair is comfortable and the Clinic is pretty safe, especially since he's much more certain Maketh isn't intending to cause him any sort of harm.]

[mismanagement]

It is not an arsenal. It is an entirely reasonable amount of weaponry.

[Nonetheless, she stands, hands clasped behind her back. Does she salute him? He's technically in charge during this--thing.

She flexes her hands instead. No saluting. She doesn't like him that much.]

Thank you, Doctor Sweets.

[lifetothefullest]

[He's so not going to bother commenting on that first part, watching her stand up; he's confident she's not a danger right now, but that doesn't mean he doesn't watch her carefully anyway just in case he's wrong.

But at her thanks Lance offers a genuine smile in return.]

You're welcome, Maketh.