Will Solace (
sonofacesius) wrote in
hadriel_logs2018-01-20 02:54 pm
Entry tags:
No, I don't trust that you're okay
Who: Will Solace and Lance Sweets
What: Will is checking up on Sweets because he doesn't trust that he's okay.
Where: Lance's apartment, Spire 2, 501.
When: 1/20/18
Warnings: None yet, will update.
Will texted Lance about thirty minutes before he showed up. Enough time for him to get ready if he needed too. Hopefully he wouldn't use the time to run away, but Will trusted Lance a lot more than he trusted, say, someone from the Hermes cabin. He could cross off a bunch of things he knew he at least wasn't walking into. On the other hand, he really did miss their black market stash.
So, hoping Lance was still there, Will knocked on the door. He wasn't going to hope that he was okay. Nothing besides divine intervention was that quick, and he didn't know anything about Lance's problems, if they were built upon something from back home or exclusively Hadriel flavored. And the mind wasn't his specialty. That was Dionysus' realm, but like Artemis and childbirth, somehow he always ended up with things that weren't really Apollo related. Maybe if he lived long enough to make it to med school he could skip his ob/gyn rotation. Delivering one baby satyr while being threatened by a overweight middle aged one with a baseball bat was really more than enough.
"Lance? It's me, Will."
What: Will is checking up on Sweets because he doesn't trust that he's okay.
Where: Lance's apartment, Spire 2, 501.
When: 1/20/18
Warnings: None yet, will update.
Will texted Lance about thirty minutes before he showed up. Enough time for him to get ready if he needed too. Hopefully he wouldn't use the time to run away, but Will trusted Lance a lot more than he trusted, say, someone from the Hermes cabin. He could cross off a bunch of things he knew he at least wasn't walking into. On the other hand, he really did miss their black market stash.
So, hoping Lance was still there, Will knocked on the door. He wasn't going to hope that he was okay. Nothing besides divine intervention was that quick, and he didn't know anything about Lance's problems, if they were built upon something from back home or exclusively Hadriel flavored. And the mind wasn't his specialty. That was Dionysus' realm, but like Artemis and childbirth, somehow he always ended up with things that weren't really Apollo related. Maybe if he lived long enough to make it to med school he could skip his ob/gyn rotation. Delivering one baby satyr while being threatened by a overweight middle aged one with a baseball bat was really more than enough.
"Lance? It's me, Will."

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even if the things that had been are now just sort of stored in his spare room rather than put away.Lance himself still looks tired and pale, the combination of stress and the food shortage having had an effect, but his eyes are bright and intense as they should be when he opens the door. His hair is longer and has gone full curls, and he's dressed in casual clothes that are probably slightly warmer than might seem necessary.
"Hello." He greets Will, purposefully ignoring the awkwardness of how it feels like this is some sort of wellness check--which it is--and stepping aside to let him into the apartment.
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He smiled at him as he walked inside the apartment. It didn't look terrible at first glance. But Lance kind of did. His eyes looked good, bright and focused, but the rest of him, well he didn't look like he'd been taking care of himself. Not surprising with the depression he seemed like he was facing, not to mention the lack of food here.
"How are you doing today?" Will reached out a hand to touch him briefly, malnutrition he couldn't fix, but it was better to be on the safe side and know than not.
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And so Lance narrows his eyes slightly, fixing the demigod with a serious look.
"Will." It's not sharp, but there's still a hint of warning in his tone; he's putting up with being checked in on, but there's a limit to that.
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"Alright, fine, eyes only." But he couldn't help but wonder if Lance simply wanted his space or if there was something he was hiding. Maybe he'd do some more digging after he was done with Lance here. Maybe Rosen knew more.
"Here's what I can tell. You're obviously depressed or not feeling well. You're not putting the effort into your appearance that you normally would, your wearing warmer clothes than I would have thought necessary, especially considering the two suns out there, your skin tone isn't that great and last time your apartment was like this I think Rosen was staying here too. Have him stuffed in a closet?"
Will crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd like to help. But I'd also like to make sure that there's nothing medically contributing to your symptoms. Or I'll go find another doctor and send them on in. Your choice. I'm here now."
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So he's quiet, doing his part, while Will talks, even if the assessment makes him immediately feel defensive and he wants to argue every point. But it isn't like Will's wrong, after all, and Lance reminds himself that he's already committed to at least not completely pretending everything is fine, so once Will is done he responds honestly but only to particular points.
"There's nothing physically wrong with me, aside from the effects of the food shortage." And that's pretty much true; he doesn't think he's been physically sick at all, or if he has it's passed, and it's just the effects of a combination of malnutrition and stress right now. At least as far as the physical symptoms go, anyway.
And that answered, he feels like he should add-- "I agreed to let you check on me, Will, with the key word being 'agreed'. Don't make threats, even well-meaning ones."
He really didn't appreciate those last few lines, and drained and trying to cooperate or not he isn't going to allow the impression that he can be intimidated into anything.
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He let Lance think that he was in control here. If he wanted to believe that Will wasn't going to hound him to the ends of the earth, even against his consent, if Will was concerned, well, Will would keep that to himself for now. It made things easier. Idly, he thought if he was his father, he would have probably inserted a well meaning haiku as a diversion. Thank all the gods he didn't inherit that particular trait.
"You know as well as I do that malnutrition and stress can have psychological effects. I can try and help with some of that, if you'll let me. It's only temporary, but it could help. I'd also really appreciate it if you'd tell me a little about how you're feeling. Better, worse." At the moment, he was pretty sure Lance was feeling hostile.
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But for now, he decides to just go along with Will's newest approach, even if he does feel somewhat condescended to.
"I know, but right now it isn't a problem." And that's mostly true too, aside from the exhaustion and feeling cold. The worst of the symptoms were an issue a few weeks ago, but not as much now. "I'm feeling better now, then I was when we spoke last." And that's true also; he talked to Kyna the day before, and it had helped. He knows, of course, that it isn't that simple and the immediate improvement won't last if he doesn't continue doing things to keep it up, but that's a different issue entirely.
And with that, feeling much too scrutinized at the moment, Lance takes the opportunity to lead the way further into the apartment and toward the kitchen. Water is probably a good idea in general, but it'll also give him something to focus on doing for a moment.
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Will was still sure that Lance's nutritional status and the fact that his cortisol was probably through the roof probably wasn't helping him deal with stress, but he wasn't going to push it, at least right now. He watched as Lance went into the kitchen, trying to keep his own demeanor relaxed.
"I'm glad to hear that." He wanted to ask when he was planning on coming back to the clinic, but baby steps. If he couldn't get Lance to let him heal him, he certainly wasn't going to entertain the idea of going back to work with other people.
Talking to Lance was like getting a two year old to share their toy. "Is there anything I can do to help you, right now?" Besides go away. "Want a hair cut?"
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He gathers two water bottles from the fridge, holding on out to Will, though his attention is more on the conversation itself than the motion. The last question is... Unexpected, but in a good way because it's a relatively safe topic.
"Do you know how to cut hair?" It isn't totally incredulous, because it's not like it's a far out-there skill, but he has to ask even though he's not intending to take him up on it. It isn't like he's concerned about letting Will near him with scissors--he thinks he's safe in that respect, unlike with some people here--but it's a very convenient way to get away with enough physical contact to use his ability.
Also, asking about this particular subject gives a great excuse for Lance to ignore the previous question. He doesn't think there's anything Will could really do to help even if Lance wanted the assistance, but he doubts a simple 'thank you, but no' would be the end of it.
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"Do you have any idea how many brothers and sisters I have? If we all got hair cuts at the Aphrodite cabin the lines would be enormous and half of us would probably end up looking ridiculous." Or like movie stars which effect could only be replicated with an insane amount of product, and while some Apollo kids would totally be fine with that, others weren't. Besides, Apollo kids had awesome hair. Just like their dad.
Will watched Lance, taking a sip from the water he offered, gauging how well he'd keep the conversation going when it wasn't something about his health.
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But as it is, he's fine allowing this particular conversation, considering just what kind of ridiculous hairstyles someone who had Aphrodite for a parent might decide to give others. "That makes sense, although are your siblings more concerned with getting a good haircut or just practicality?" It's said lightly, not meant to be a jab or implication that Will isn't skilled, just that practice doesn't necessarily mean much. Besides, Lance's hair is curly anyway, which can be both good and bad but definitely makes for more of a challenge.
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"The Ares cabin would be more concerned with practicality. Clarisse's hair sometimes looks like someone attacked it with safety scissors. Which I guess is actually a possibility. Dad meanwhile gets embarrassed if he has to turn the sun chariot into a school bus instead of the normal Maserati mode. I'm not great, but no one in Cabin Seven's gotten embarrassed because of their hair yet. I admit, I'm better at stitches."
Huh. Interesting. Lance is fine with normal conversation. Okay, that was good at least. He just didn't want to talk about himself. Which was a problem. But at least he seemed like he was getting better, if he had talked to someone.
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But yes, talking about hair is fine, and it's a lot less stressful than the topic of himself while still--hopefully, anyway--showing that he's clearly well enough to be involved in the conversation and stay on track. Surely that's enough, right? Right. That bare minimum of normal is plenty.
"That's probably still pretty good; people can be very sensitive about their hair." So if the Apollo cabin wasn't devoid of vanity but weren't upset with Will's work, then he's probably actually decent. Maybe Lance will take him up on the offer at some point in the future when he isn't expecting it to be used for an ulterior motive.
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"Until you've lived with hundreds of kids and teenagers, you have no idea." Honestly, he missed waking up and seeing Kayla's green and red hair and Austin's DNA helix cornrows. Or would it be summer by now and the summer session group be in by now? He'd been here so long he'd lost track of time.
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But yes, indeed the main issue is that Lance doesn't want to go into any sort of personal issues at the moment; he did talk to Kyna, but he waited so long to do so because trusting someone enough to open up with them is very difficult for him, on top of other issues. No offense meant to Will, especially in that Lance doesn't think he means anything but well, but he's not willing to talk to him about personal problems for several different reasons.
"That sounds like a nightmare." It's without judgment, not a statement that the situation is actually bad, just that Lance wouldn't be able to handle living with ten people, let alone hundreds. But he's hoping that if he just keeps up some normal conversation for a bit, Will will eventually be satisfied that he isn't dying or anything and will leave him alone.
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"It's not that bad. Privacy is a little hard to come by, but finally getting to be with people like you? With similar problems and experiences? Sometimes family you never knew you had? That's nice."
He sighed and changed tactics. "Lance. Obviously you're not completely self destructive. I do hope you were able to find someone to talk to and that it helps. If there is something I can do, you need to let me know. In the meantime....try and hang in there."
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He's quiet while Will switches the subject back to the one they'd been avoiding, subconsciously crossing his arms defensively, but there's nothing particularly wrong with what Will is saying and so Lance's answer is quieter and more understanding. "I do appreciate the concern, Will. You don't need to worry about me being any sort of actual danger to myself; I look so terrible because there's been a food shortage and I'm stressed out, nothing else." And that's pretty much true; now that food is showing up again and he can therefore manage to get something low effort--and therefore easier to handle with the whole stress issue--his health will start to improve. And he did talk to someone, so hopefully things will start looking up on that front as well.
He shifts on his feet for a moment, and then continues. "I'll be fine, but... If not, and you can do something, I'll let you know." He can promise that much, considering those caveats give him enough ways to get out of things if necessary.
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"Alright. Thanks for letting know if there is an issue. I'll try and check by, if you need anything from one of the stores or something too, let me know. I can get it."
Giving Lance a supportive smile, he nodded and let himself out. At least it was progress. That was all he wanted.