[Therapy] Hornpile Feelings Jam

[Inkwell]

{This is the group therapy session for all Weyrlings, or even graduated riders from the Fairy Tale clutch, that were once prisoners. If your character doesn't fall under that group heading, never fear: there will be a post for current prisoners as well. If your character is not one of those either but you think they need therapy, PM me!}

Isaak wasn't usually one for group therapy. It was more difficult to keep things organized, and the chance of someone in the room annoying him skyrocketed. But with the high number of prisoners who had been able to Impress, there simply wasn't a sensible way to meet with all of them individually, and as part of his job entailed looking after their mental health... well, this was the only logical conclusion.

He knew exactly how many would be coming, but he'd added some extra chairs to the circle in case there were any hangers-on or people who insisted on acting as 'moral support'. This was really just a meet, greet and discuss exercise, however, so he wasn't too worried about them being a problem. The real problem would be deciding which of the people who showed up were in more desperate need of mental redecorating. If he could rank them in order by how much time it would probably take to get them to a point where one could call them 'fixed', it would be easier to organize one on one appointments later, which was where the real work could take place.

"So," he said, making eye contact briefly with everyone in the circle, "some of you are here because you admit that you need this. Some of you are here because the Wardens mandated that you be here. And many of you likely don't think that you need to be here. " He sat back in his chair, adjusting his glasses. "Regardless of why you are here or how enthusiastic you are, you are still here, and I expect at least a lukewarm attempt at cooperation. We'll go around the circle and say our name, our crime or problem and how long we've been at the weyr. For instance, my name is Isaak, I have never committed a crime and I should like to think I have no problems, and I have been here for only a few months." He then turned and looked meaningfully at the person on his left.

[Ferret]

Leevi, however, was completely for group therapy. He firmly believed that it would help other people bond more closely and open up if they knew that other people were also having problems. And admitting that there was a problem was the first step. He watched the older mindhealer with interest, hands on his knees and leaning forward. When Isaak spoke, the younger mindhealer seemed almost disappointed for a second.

But his bright smile returned soon enough. On his shoulder, Kay farted. Leevi had insisted on the gold’s presence. Animals were helpful to therapy; it was amazing how people, who often didn’t like discussing their problems with virtual strangers, would talk to an animal instead. Buuuut he supposed it would be best to make sure that the prisoners didn’t handle her, not until he knew what their crimes were. Plus, looking at their crimes beforehand would be wrong, right? It would color his view of them.

As Isaak gave him a Significant Look----one that fully deserved the capital letters----Leevi nodded and beamed at the gathered weyrlings. Well, he supposed they were weyrlings, technically.

“Hi, I’m Leevi. I’m also a mindhealer and have never been convicted of any crimes. And yes, I do have a problem,” he added with an equally Significant Look at Isaak. “Everyone has problems and that’s nothing to be ashamed over. I’ve been here a few months and this is Kay. Say hello, Kay!”

“Prrrp?” and she farted again. Clearly, the food was not fully agreeing with her here. Or perhaps agreeing with her too much.

[maggie]

K'dan was very keen to begin the therapy. He wanted to be the best Weyrling that he could be. He also knew that there were things about him that were not normal. The crimes that had landed him in prison had been more about bad circumstances than they had been about his issues, but despite this, he knew that he had problems that needed to be fixed. Empirith had been trying to help him a bit and Jessan had tried to help him a bit, but he wanted to get rid of his urge to tidy for good. He had arrived early and had spent a few minutes trying to discreetly rearrange the chairs so that they were equidistant from each other and from the center of the circle. Empirith had finally convinced him to just sit down and was now lurking on the outskirts of the circle, listening to what the mind healer said.

He squirmed uncomfortably when Issak turned to him and it was his turn to present himself. He could hear his little green flitt Moss chirp in encouragement and he could see in his mind's eye the look that Log was probably giving her to shut her up. "Um, my name is Ka... K'dan," he introduced himself, "rider of Empirith," He motioned towards the pink. "And I lived with dusters and so they brought me here, which was good. I like to clean things." He shook his head, blushing in shame "I have to clean things. And tidy things. And I want to not want to always clean everything anymore."

[giftwrapped]

Serdek hated the new wardens with every fiber of her being. The Warden had understood. The Warden had listened to her, and he, along with L'vey, had looked at her files and heard her story and made their own decisions about her, instead of listening to the drivel that the Watch had spewed. The new wardens were different. They were sent by the Watch because the Watch wanted involvement. They were a part of the Watch. They listened to M'onk. They worked with the Overseer, and didn't follow the Warden's work. She had heard through the grapevine - her guard, mostly - that Warden Qu'an thought on no uncertain terms that her being allowed to Stand was a travesty.

So when her guard told her, quietly and apologetically, that the wardens had mandated some sort of meeting with a mindhealer for all prisoner weyrlings, she had gone only reluctantly. She could hear Greboth snarling in the back of her mind the entire time, but Serdek had decided it was in the yellow's best interest that they stay apart, at least for the time being. Greboth was too large to physically restrain if it was necessary, and Serdek didn't trust her own emotions in the face of an exercise like this. Nonetheless, she had to be there. There was no backing out, and Serdek slunk into the room like a kicked dog, taking a seat in what she hoped would be in Isaak's blind spot most of the time.

And then she hunched her back, hugged her arms to herself, and stared at the ground. When Isaak started to talk, her entire body tensed, and she found herself unconsciously chewing her lip. This was terrible already, and she was not going to have anything of it.

I want you out of there.

So do I, Greboth. But the wardens command, and I obey. Otherwise you'll lose your wings, and we'll be trapped here forever.

If anyone there hurts you, I will be there.

Easy, sweet. Easy for now.

[S'yal]

F'ox wasn't about to show up to something so stressful and bad without a gift! Granted, F'ox wasn't good with gifts. He'd never given them to anyone but Semith or Snowth, so he'd just thought of things that either of them would want.

"I'm n-not very good at presents." F'ox told the (terrifying) mindhealer, biting down on his lip. "But... um..." However, Isaak's mere presence was just too scary for the greenrider, and he skittered to a safer seat. He notably sat away from the gold. Crypt, on his shoulder, gave the gold a baffled look.

F'ox smiled at K'dan. A weyrling! F'ox liked weyrlings. Weyrlings were nice, and they had nice dragons. But then it was F'ox's turn to speak. The greenrider jolted a bit, as if he'd been surprised. Crypt rubbed his cheek against F'ox's face, and F'ox mustered up the courage to speak.

"I'm F'ox of green Snowth." F'ox stared at his feet, terrified of the concept of looking up. He'd gotten so much better since Impressing, but he was so frightened of looking up and seeing disgust or disapproval on the others faces. "I stole from the brothel master... a-and I don't like being touched." F'ox bit his lip. "Everyone is scary. I don't want to be scared anymore."

Snowth roused from her sleep, immediately flooding her rider with drowsy love. She knew he could do this, if he just had her to lean on. Crypt sat up, looking over everyone with green eyes. He had to guard F'ox, after all! Because he was a very, very good firelizard and that was what good firelizards did!

"B-but i'm learning to be a dragonhealer!" He thought that was something to be proud of. It was a big step from the skittish, illiterate prisoner who he'd been when he'd arrived.

[nozomi]

L'vey was not a weyrling. In fact, he had not been a weyrling in quite some time, and he had absolutely no interest in going back to that part in his life. While he loved Faeth dearly, a large part of L'vey's life was caring for the smaller, the younger, the more needy. He became a Weyrlingmaster for the very fact that he could assist in the most efficient and wide-spread manner that way.

So when a call to all current and former children of his flock came out for a group therapy session, you bet damn well L'vey would be there, his facial hair perfectly trimmed, expression serene, even if he walked in as Isaak had begun his little speech. He settled down next to Serdek, hands calmly on his knees, eyes on the Mindhealer.

When his turn came, L'vey smiled, his voice soft and calm.

"I am L'vey. I do hope you all recognize me as your Weyrlingmaster. I am here to keep my pesky eye on you all, for we all have problems, including myself. Mindhealer, it's a pleasure." Polite as ever, but no. No, he was not going to leave the mental well beings of his children to a stranger, as much as L'vey desperately wished to believe in the core goodness of human beings. "If any of my weyrlings feel unable to speak freely in my presence, I will understand."

That, he directed to the weyrlings.

[maggie]

K'dan looked over at F'ox, his eyes widening. Empirith glanced over at him as well, his eyes whirling green. Snowth's rider. Snowth was very nice. Snowth? Pardon my intrusion, but my K'dan wanted to tell your rider that he is also scared. All the time he is scared. But that for him scared makes him clean. But he wants your rider to know that he is not the only one who is frightened.[/color] The pink paused. But we protect them, right, Snowth? And make them feel better. My K'dan enjoyed your story a lot. It made him feel safe and good with you. So you must make your rider feel very safe.[/color]

[tuathade]

R'vyn wasn't sure if he was supposed to be here... but here he was anyway. The call had been for weyrlings, and he was a weyrling - even if he wasn't a prisoner, and he wasn't entirely sure that he needed mindhealing, especially from the rather intimidating new arrival to Warden's, but... oh dear. Well. This was just one of those numerous unpleasant duties of weyrlinghood, he supposed, like mucking out the dragon latrines and butchering raw meat.

Placed in the weyrling barracks as it was, there was room enough for dragons to come with their riders. Empirith, the pink, was already here, and it wasn't as if his own white took up that much room... Dexeth was growing well, but he was still tiny - only about nine feet long from nose to tail, which meant at the shoulder he still stood hardly higher than R'vyn's waist. If Ruth and the greys were any indication, Dexeth would eventually become large enough to bear a rider or two, but never much larger than that. For the moment, the little white was coiled gently around the chair where his rider sat, head on his forepaws and eyes watching curiously with a mingled blue-green-yellow swirl. In addition to Dexeth, Comfrey lay curled in R'vyn's lap, a serenely dozing ball of adolescent bronze flit. (His Comfrey in many respects was much more like a very affectionate kitten than a firelizard, a fact which R'vyn regarded with considerable fondness.)

He was sitting next to L'vey, which was frankly a bit of a relief, but... eep. It was his turn now, wasn't it? R'vyn did not precisely meet Isaak's eyes, but chose instead to look towards the other mindhealer as he spoke up in a hesitant voice.

"I... well, I'm R'vyn, and I'm Masterhealer Lanakirene's apprentice. This is Dexeth. I suppose I have a number of problems, but fortunately none of them are terribly serious... and most of them are rather personal, and I'm not entirely sure which particular one you mean?" His hands toyed in his lap until Comfrey nibbled gently at his fingers, coaxing him at last to stop. "But I'd like to be the best rider I can, which means good mental health for both dragon and rider - since one affects the other, and all?" The slightest upwards tilt to the end of that last sentence turned it from a statement to a question, as he realized what he was saying. Silly R'vyn, don't tell the mindhealer his job. Pull your foot out of your mouth.