OOC: The following is merely me cataloguing what I thought was a greatly intriguing Role-play session, one that may seem like a petty arguement over petty things. Yet, I feel it will prove for promising character developement. For the most part, it is designed just for future referencing for those involved. It is detailed in the very same emotes published by both authors, with minimal editing. However, do please note that the wording was not adjusted in any way.
Brigwald hobbles into the infirmary, he looks to have lost ten pounds since Geoffin last saw him. There is a certain gauntness about his gait that suggest he had fallen majorly ill a short time before. "Geoff." He says in his usual gruff voice, the power of that hasn't been diminished. Which means his spirit is still intact.
Stationed in repose atop his stooped divan, wood carved and ornate (perhaps relocated there from the miniscule collection at his shop), Geoffin has the index finger of one hand ringed through the ear of a porcelain tea-cup, his other appendages collected in precaution beneath the fragile grail as a saucer. His legs are crossed, but not in the manner that most men and women take to, instead the ankle of the trespassing limb resting atop the knee of its partner opposite. Stretched open in his lap is a book filled with various letters and writings, evidently a series of missives betwixt two authors due to the easily distinguishable scrawls, and the practitioner seems intently fixated on their contents, his occupied digits occasionally reprieved of their duties so long as to warrant ingress onto the next pair of parchments. Nonetheless, he gives a small startle on the sudden iron voice that lashed out at his senses, begging of him his lesser preferred psuedonym in greeting. In reply, the herbalist's sarcastic speech rushes forth to meet the Chief-Watcher, ere even he has turned around! "Well, isn't this a surprise! Someone's actually come to visit me at my infirmary, rather than simply barging into my shop." Finally, he unfolds his extremities, the soles of his booted feet grinding against the floor as he forces his chair to circumvolve to a degree, canting his head as the two guests enter his sights. Geoffin's favoured smirk lights upon his dimpled countenance. "So, somebody's died, I guess?"
Brigwald shakes his head and hobbles forward. He doesn't return the man's smile but of course that's no surprise, Brigwald never smiles. "No, my doctor disappeared. You're going to find me a new one. I trust your well-connected in the medical field?" Brigwald's question is on the border of being a statement. He stops advancing a few paces away from Geoffin with both his hands folded over the top of his cane. The cane itself is of fairly simple make, it is not ornate by any means. Yet, somehow, there is a certain esthetic appeal to it. It's long, thick and has a polished black finish.
Geoffin simply stares at the tall soldier, for several moments, seemingly passive save for the twinkling in his eyes. His chalice remains poised in its loving retainer of clever appendages, thin plumes of steam rising in tendrils to bear the fragrant scents of a variety of herbal mints upwards into the small room's comforting atmosphere. At last, there is an official sigh bequeathed in burdened vociferation, and Geoffin leans his torso forward to an amount. "Quite obviously I'm connected, Mister Stoneheart, but I'm sure you understand I don't get paid to find people- I'm not the detective here, dearie. So, this is going to have to come out of your own pocket... And that's only if I agree."
Brigwald looks at the man for a moment, he says only nothing. Brigwald's cold pale-blue eyes seeming to cool the entire room down. Though his expression does not change, something about his aura does. "Despite being a Physician, you are a Watcher of Bree. Which means that you are held to the same terms as every other Watcher is. Not only are you a Watcher of Bree, but you are also my lesser in rank. Therefore, as following the document you signed when you were recruited, you will obey the orders of your superior officers. You don't get paid for healing people Geoff, you get paid for doing what you're told." Brigwald speaks calmly but this only adds to the overall cold aura he is emitting as he speaks. His eyes focus more on Geoffin's with every word.
Geoffin forms his lips as an 'o', a smug expression granted passage across the entirety of his image, and he chortles softly. "Oh...really, dearie? Mister Stoneheart, allow me to enlighten you. I don't need this job. You see, I get by quite nicely with just the earnings from my sales. I'm here because I'm a generous and caring man." He pauses, this moment purposed to allow him time to deepen his complacent simper, his thinned lips quirking all the more, as if to place emphasis on the quipping nature of this statement. Proceeding, "And, quite honestly, making deals is easier than healing people. So, shall I leave? Will you be the one to tell Miss Redwood that you drove her only physician away on account of..." He scoffs, "...finding another physician? I'm sure you'd earn another good earful for that, aye? Or...we can barter..." The hand situated underneath his cup swims away, the elbow coming to rest on the arms of his settee, forearm aligned skyward as his wrist gives a histrionic rolling motion, index finger pointed towards Brigwald. "Your cane, that's my price."
Brigwald doesn't look away from Geoffin for a moment of him talking, he doesn't bite at the bait either. "A kind and generous person will not stop caring for others just because they had a disagreement. That would change the fact that they're kind and generous. You're not going to leave, so while you're here, you're going to answer to me. I'm not a shop-keep, I'm your superior officer. The Chief-Watcher of Combe." He frowns inquisitively. "Isn't that where your shop's located?" With that he hobbles out the door, calling behind him, "I want that list when we next speak!"
Geoffin permits a breathy exhale through his nostrils, and then swings his arm to settle the porcelain piece down upon the table, standing swiftly and limping after the Watcher. "Oh, we're not done talking, Mister Stoneheart. I've given you my price, and that's the price you'll pay. That cane, or you'll not be getting your list. It's as simple as that. You see, I am a business man first, and all things come at a price- my help most of all." His finger pushes forth, in attempt to boldly prod at his quarry's chest. "But, like I said, I'm a kind and generous man; you need not even give it to me now. Oh no! You can wait till after you've gotten your list!" The Herbalist's smirk becomes lopsided, and his brows raise in subtle amusement. "So, what do you say? Do we have a deal...or not? I can go pack my supplies. Who knows...I might even joke about how the fool with the feather in his cap lost two physicians in one day." His brows furrow, in feigned confusion, and his lower lip juts outwards in a thoughtful and contemplative frown. "And what's a bit of wood to you, anyways? Is it worth someone in your care, maybe even one of your friends, dying? Think wisely, dear. You've the muscle for the job, obviously, but prove to me you've the wit. Do. We. Have...A deal?" The prompting digit retracts, its kin joining it to be taken in a shaking of truce and agreement.
Brigwald turns back to the doctor, he looks at his hand for a brief moment before looking back at the man's eyes. "If you want to leave because I ordered you to do something, be my guest. We'd be better without you anyway. There's other physicians in town, Geoff. Remember that." With that, Brigwald would turn once more and hobble away.
Geoffin cocks his head as the man turns away, and calls after him, "There may be others, but none of them as good as I am. You'll be back, Mister Stoneheart! I look forward to your visit!" With that he turns and walks back into his infirmary, to read his letters all the more.
Brigwald would not call anything back, instead he just walks out.
