Dish Return Policy ((Tirael))

[Tirael]

Tirael worked silently, listening to Rhyse talk. It was nice to hear someone simply chatting, no hidden disdain, no desire to leave as soon as possible. The relief was temporarily derailed as thoughts of the time he'd spent in the storerooms near the kitchen floated into his thoughts, but he forced himself to focus back on Rhyse. Winter was over, he was here now.

"I'm usually the only one back there, too. Unless of course, somebeast gets in trouble. Even then, they don't have to stay all that long. Its just... quiet, you know? Sort of my own little corner to quietly hide when I need to. Even though I spend much of my time down there, no one would ever think to look for me."

"That's..." He'd begun to say 'that's a shame,' but it occurred to him that it sounded a little odd, and he stopped. It was a shame, though. Whether Rhyse actually wanted to be alone or not, it didn't seem right that he should be by himself all the time, cheerfully doing a thankless job. His assertion that the washroom was his personal hideout sounded a lot like what he would have said about the infirmary; he didn't always choose to be alone. Worrying now that he was projecting his own issues onto Rhyse, the healer again tried to stop thinking.

"That's my excuse. What's yours?"

Putting the finishing touches on one of the trays, Tirael set it aside and paused to think up an answer. Picking up the last tray, he admitted, "You have your hideout. I have mine. At Camp Moss, it was the woods, here, it's--well, in here." The otter fell silent for a few moments, pretending to scrutinize part of the tray. "I guess...it's easier. Easier than dealing with all the talking." He wasn't certain if that would make sense, but he didn't feel like clarifying.

[Maxodis]

"You have your hideout. I have mine. At Camp Moss, it was the woods, here, it's--well, in here. I guess...it's easier. Easier than dealing with all the talking."

Rhyse chuckled softly as he considered referring to the dishroom as a 'hideout'. He wasn't sure that would have been the first word to come to his mind if he was asked to describe it. To the otter, the word 'Hideout' inspired thoughts of a comfortable, dry, snug, small space, filled with pleasant scents and soft lighting. A place where one could read or doze or learn to balance things on their nose if they so wished, because that place belonged to them and it was special. The dishroom... was not any of these things. No amount of romanticizing, no matter how elegant, would ever make it any of these things. If anything, the dishroom was a polar opposite of what Rhyse would have called a hideout. Still, that had been the word Tirael used; the same word he'd used to describe his infirmary.

Rhyse felt the distinct impression that while the Dishroom and the Infirmary were both places to quietly be alone, his and Tirael's use of those places were far different. To be certain, there was more motivation to slipping away to the Dishroom than just a sense of civic duty. There were always those days. The days when everything seemed to go wrong, the days when the otter felt relentlessly plagued by problems far outside the realm of his control. Those days that everybeast has but none would ever admit, where all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and suffer silently for a few hours. But those days were not every day. He did not want to imagine going down to the dishroom and simply staying there. He considered putting voice to his thoughts, but it occurred to him that to do so might sound much harsher than intended.

"That's a shame," he said instead, pausing to gently blow air over the setting resin. "Talking isn't a bad thing! It lets us communicate stuff like 'I'm hungry' or 'I'm bored' or 'There's a spider hanging right next to your ear'. Can you imagine what it would be like trying to tell someone that without talking?" He shook his head in mock remorse. "That poor creature, would never be right again. All it'd take is for them to imagine a spider's crawling on them and they'd fly off their rocker."

[Tirael]

"That's a shame."

It would be foolish not to agree. As much as it was the easy way out for Tirael to sequester himself like this, he felt wasted by himself in a now-unused infirmary. It had never occurred to him during the war that his services would be so infrequently used at Redwall; he was accustomed to creatures regularly being injured in skirmishes and the like. Now, though--

"Talking isn't a bad thing! It lets us communicate stuff like 'I'm hungry' or 'I'm bored' or 'There's a spider hanging right next to your ear'. Can you imagine what it would be like trying to tell someone that without talking?"

Oh. THAT'S what he meant. Tirael could only shake his head in amused resignation at what Rhyse was saying; clearly, he was missing the point.

"That poor creature, would never be right again. All it'd take is for them to imagine a spider's crawling on them and they'd fly off their rocker."

Giggling a little, the healer replied, "Okay, maybe that's not quite what I meant, Rhyse." The amusement fading from his face, he sighed as he tried to gather together what he was thinking. "I mean...I know what they say." Looking at one of his paws, which rested on a mended tray, he continued, "I'm not stupid. You know, none of my 'friends' have spoken to me for weeks. My own sister has been avoiding me. And when I tried to..." Tirael tried to continue, but a surge of emotion made it too difficult. Or maybe it was that painful lump forming in his throat; either way, he spent several moments trying in confusion and vain to speak.

"...and when I tried to," he finally managed, "they just...left." A warm drop hit his paw, and when he realized what it was, he shut his eyes hard, ashamed to be doing this in front of Rhyse. This would just drive him away, too. But then again, everybeast left. Why should this one be any different?

[Maxodis]

"Okay, maybe that's not quite what I meant, Rhyse."

The otter in question stuck out his tongue playfully as he inspected his work. He had a way of dancing around potentially sensitive topics. Comforting emotional creatures was not his forte. After all, his own reaction to being overwhelmed by anything was to shut it all out. It was far from the best course of action, but at least it worked for him. Still, he wouldn't want to suggest that another creature do the same. At any rate, it seemed like his attempt to play coy and divert the conversation was successful.

"I mean...I know what they say."

Or maybe not.

Rhyse looked up to Tirael as the healer's eyes fell to his paws, which was a stroke of luck as the healer missed the flash of panic across Rhyse's face. There was more to simply not being good at helping another to feel better, Rhyse didn't know how to act around one either. Sure, it was common sense to be understanding and gentle with an emotional creature, but the exact wrong thing to say had a history of slipping from Rhyse's big mouth and making the situation worse. More than that, it wasn't out of malevolent intent at all, so any guilt the otter felt from not knowing the first thing about helping was only amplified by making it worse. Usually such experiences ended with him volunteering massive amounts of his time to scouring dishes.

"I'm not stupid. You know, none of my 'friends' have spoken to me for weeks. My own sister has been avoiding me. And when I tried to..."

Rhyse held his breath. A pause! The healer had trailed off and paused! Oh this was gonna be ugly.

"...and when I tried to... they just...left."

It was usually at that moment that Rhyse would begin to imagine an endless amount of alarms going off in his head. They all offered suggested courses of action, but none of them were the same. They all carried the same message: DO SOMETHING. This panic system was the usual culprit behind his poor record of not making a miserable creature feel worse. He continued holding his breath, waiting for the alarms to explode in his head. He waited a few seconds... then a minute...

He heard nothing but silence.

Alarm system? Helloooooo? He thought to himself. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. If nothing else, his panicked reaction gave him options on possible responses so he could simply choose one at random. Without it, he was at an even greater loss. Whatever was going on, his mind refused to have anything to do with it. He'd have to improvise.

"Um," He began, and instantly criticized himself for beginning so intelligently. "I can't uh... I don't really know what all this is about but um..." Brilliant, you're so inspiring Rhyse, he thought to himself. Stop trying to think about it and just DO.

"I'll be honest with you... your 'friends' don't sound like very good friends to me. And I don't have a sister, or think I ever want to," He chuckled gently. "But as I understand it most girls are crazy and sisters are even more so, she's probably just... having a crazy moment." He placed his paw on Tir's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I don't see why they would have acted that way, I've only just met you and I can already tell you're great to know. Don't let it get to you, if they wanna act crazy and ignore you... its their loss."

[Tirael]

Tirael could have killed himself for acting the way he was. This was one of the only truly friendly creatures he'd met for a long time--and one of the most he'd ever met--and within a few minutes of making his acquaintance, he'd turned into a wet rag. No wonder all his other friends weren't sticking around; he was too much baggage. It was hardly their fault. Frankly, Rhyse's silence was almost a confirmation of what he was feeling. What were you supposed to say to a creature that had constant emotional episodes?

"I'll be honest with you... your 'friends' don't sound like very good friends to me. And I don't have a sister, or think I ever want to," He chuckled gently. "But as I understand it most girls are crazy and sisters are even more so, she's probably just... having a crazy moment."

It was almost implausible how disarming Rhyse could be. Despite lingering unhappiness, Tirael had to laugh a little at how the smaller otter described the situation. "Crazy moment" indeed, and while he wasn't really sure how good his friends had been before (he supposed he wasn't a very good judge of that), it was comforting to have someone on his side. Wiping his eyes, he silently relished the warm comfort of the paw on his shoulder. It was such a small, perfect comfort.

"I don't see why they would have acted that way, I've only just met you and I can already tell you're great to know. Don't let it get to you, if they wanna act crazy and ignore you... it's their loss."

Once he was certain his eyes were dried, the healer gratefully glanced back at Rhyse. "Thank you," he muttered, unsure of how else to convey what he was feeling. Suddenly, the infirmary, the stack of now-somewhat-repaired trays, and in fact the entire Abbey felt a little oppressive. "You want to go outside? I think now's a good time for that run you mentioned."

[Maxodis]

Rhyse watched as Tirael wiped his eyes, almost certain that he'd said the wrong words yet again. The little otter really couldn't catch a break, between speaking so fast his words jumbled and managing to find the perfectly wrong thing to say in a sensitive conversation. Even if he did screw this up, he expected to go through the usual pattern of guilt, followed by sequestering himself to the dishroom for the rest of the day and much of the next. It wasn't as if messing up was the end of the world. Still... for some peculiar reason, for this one time Rhyse really wanted to have said the right thing.

"Thank you,"

Wow, breathing was nice. He indulged in the action, with those two words reminding him that he knew how. Funny how such a vital function could hinge on something as simple as a thank you.

"You want to go outside? I think now's a good time for that run you mentioned."

"Er, yeah." Rhyse blinked, shaking his head for a moment as he slowly began to realize it was time for words again. "Yeah, I do... but uh..." He trailed off, feeling overcome by the strong urge to move after sitting still for even that short period, as well as feeling as if he had just stumbled through a very serious, very real ordeal without really knowing it and only beginning to realize the depth after. He struggled with these dense concepts for several moments before he remembered that he hadn't yet finished what he was attempting to say.

"Er... uh, I just uh..." Finally managing to stop himself, he covered his eyes with a paw and glowed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm going in a hundred directions at once. I must look wonderfully stupid." With that, he took a deep breath and clapped his paws together, self-criticism once more hidden behind his usual infectious smile. "What I was trying to say, was why don't I get these down to the kitchens real quick so that no one has to have anything thrown at them. Can I meet you... say... by the gatehouse?"

((I think one more post could wrap this thread up, we could make another for the actual event if you like?))

[Tirael]

"I'm sorry, I'm going in a hundred directions at once. I must look wonderfully stupid."

Again trying to be tactful, Tirael just smiled in response. He had no reason--and certainly no right--to not be understanding of Rhyse's apparent habit of getting ahead of his own thoughts. Besides, the smaller otter always regained his control. That was more than the healer could say for himself; he usually needed someone else, like Rhyse, to help him out of his own tempestuous emotions.

"What I was trying to say, was why don't I get these down to the kitchens real quick so that no one has to have anything thrown at them. Can I meet you... say... by the gatehouse?"

Oh, right...that's why he came here in the first place, Tirael thought. Somehow, between all the conversation and comforting, he had all but forgotten that his new friend had come for more than conversation. He'd gotten that, certainly, though not quite the way either would have expected. Handing over his half of the trays, Tirael replied, "It's a date." One he was looking forward to very much.

[[And that's all I've got.]]]