[OPEN] Septimus June catch-all

[survival_isnt_living]

Characters: Gaius Septimus and YOU!
Date: All of June
Location: Hospital, around Keeliai
Situation: Come chat with Septimus, whether about his organizing stuff or other things. Some threadstarters, do your own or request one!
Warnings/Rating: None yet.

A.: Hospital
After making his announcement--and, to a certain extent, throwing down a gauntlet—Septimus is at the hospital as much as starting to train in earnest allows. He can be found doing any number of tasks: making sure there is a ready supply of clean water, healing (sadly more and more important with the cultists and such—handling whatever administrative tasks he needs to, and frequently holding meetings whether they are actually on hospital business or not.

The very lucky few—and ones who know Septimus better—may be fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to notice when he begins to get stretched a little thin.

All the same, it’s the best place to find him.

B.: Keeliai
When he is not at the hospital, or doing what rest and food is necessary, Septimus is generally around various parts of Keeliai. Whether this is simply on regular-day wandering and exploring, or going out to practice, he is mostly easy to run into after standard work day hours or mid-day on what is supposed to be a lunch or dinner break. And these days he tends to have at least his long-sword on him when he isn’t actively healing.

When he is out practicing, he isn’t just armed but armored, in full Roman Legion-esque gear. Watching him, sometimes it’s just swordwork, but often he isn’t just doing that, he’s working with his furycrafting too. If you watch him practicing, his sword will often be on fire, he may be working with water and air and earth—earth and fire together, sometimes, for extra deadly combination—and even rarely wood.

C.: Other people’s locations
Given that some of the meetings he wants to happen aren’t going to be at the hospital, but at places whoever he’s meeting with feels most comfortable, sometimes you will get him turning up on your doorstep, maybe with paper in hand for notes, maybe not.

Comments

C

[peacefullywreathed]

The message left on the network, while unwise, was alluring. Solomon was certainly feeling restless about his circumstances right now, and without much else to do a collaboration certainly seemed the best avenue to pursue.

The problem was that the man responsible spent most of his time in the hospital. Solomon did not want to approach the hospital in his current frame of mind. The hospital was filled with far too much ... power. The power of those who had died there. The last thing Solomon needed right now was the lure of more souls.

Instead Solomon did a bit of investigative work to find the man's living-area. It was on the man's own ground, but then, the hospital was the man's own ground. Either way Solomon went to Septimus's apartment, spent enough time in the vicinity to know the man was present, and then knocked on the door.

[survival_isnt_living]

As unwise as it might have been to say so openly, Septimus did know it was; it was a highly calculated move (if also somewhat reckless). He might not be devious, but he knows effective measures need a leader, and regardless of the threat to himself he knows how to do it.

And someone unafraid to take a stand is something both Malicant and the people here needed to see, in his (not actually very humble) opinion.

Still, he was not expecting to get the response to that knock on the door to his new shared living space. Given the multiple people now living there, Septimus blinks at Solomon for several moments. "I'm afraid I'm the only one here, if you're looking for either of the others."

[peacefullywreathed]

"I am not," Solomon said, and bowed very slightly with breaking gaze so he could examine the man. "My name is Solomon Wreath. I came to speak with you about some business you advertised recently."

He spoke blandly, but given that they'd never met before there was really only one way to interpret those words.

[survival_isnt_living]

It does indeed lend itself to one interpretation alone, and Septimus nods minutely in acknowledgment of the slight bow, stepping aside so Solomon can enter properly. "How's the leg?" he asks with a nod at limb in question. "I heard about the injury, though I expect Raine took good care of you."

It's a good way to pass the time, that enquiry, as he leads the way to the more secluded office-like room in the common space.

(And quite possibly one of the biggest clues about his actual personality is the way he's utterly un-fazed by the bow, almost as if it's simply a near-expected part of life.)

[peacefullywreathed]

They hadn't met, and yet Septimus knew Solomon by either name or face, and by injury. That spoke a great deal to how much the man observed around his own hospital--or how controlling a personality he was. A leg injury wouldn't usually warrant the personal discretion of a hospital superintendent, surely.

"Quite well," Solomon answered without any indication that he found the question odd. "She is a capable healer."

Solomon entered Septimus's 'office' but chose to remain standing near the door, leaving it unblocked but within access. "You mentioned details in your broadcast," he said without preamble. "What, precisely, are you considering and how do you mean to do so?"

[survival_isnt_living]

The leg by itself might not--but Keeliai is small, the population of foreigners is miniscule, and incidents of purple skeletons in physical altercations with injured new arrivals are difficult to overlook. Then again, while Septimus hardly thinks of himself as closely observing or controlling, he's comparing himself to his father; truthfully, Solomon's not that far off.

As he settles himself behind the desk, Septimus idly flicks a hand toward the door. A light breeze shuts it the rest of the way, and then the air pressure in the room increases slightly. Septimus has a roommate he distrusts.

"Organizing and preparing, primarily," he begins as he leans back. "You were not involved in the attack on the palace, I believe?'

[peacefullywreathed]

"I was not," Solomon confirmed, "though I've heard one or two things about those who managed to infiltrate." Not much, granted, but he knew Bakura had found some sort of writing in the dungeons there. Beyond that, nothing else.

"Preparing for what, precisely?" Resistance, obviously, but that was a very broad description. If Septimus didn't have any concrete ideas then he wasn't much more than a morale officer--speaking pretty words without much in the way of action. That would tell Solomon whether or not he was a man worth listening to.