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| No title. |
| (2013-08-06 - Now) |
| No description. |
| Blivon | He hadn't assembled all his credentials yet, but he was already well on his way to being endorsed by Rosemarie, as far as including her name in the 'franchise' that Blivon proposed; a union between a twisted fairy-godmother and a nihilistic fatalist therapist, who both strove to get people back up to speed! The big difference between the two branches was that the druid preferred to accept donations, whereas the dark elf would write up formal contracts with a named price for her services- granted, her products were more objective, since they pertained to elixirs of varied brands, besides magical spells that taxed her mana-pool in a quantifiable way. This isn't to say that Blivon didn't also offer -some- benefits that had physical ramifications on his part, which sometimes meant spending a little magic energy for a healing spell for the bodily wounded, but that was definitely a secondary function, seeing that his central purpose was to provide insights into spiritual realizations, or else into one's own shortcomings in the satisfaction they received from their vocations, and lifestyle in general. Today, he was in his office, which had just been set up a day ago, since he'd managed to rent a property that would temporarily act as a place where he could assist people with their needs. The place wasn't officially debuted, but there was no sign that indicated it was closed, so if somebody decided to walk in, then the shaman would simply have to delay setting up the place, and talk to them; people's psychological needs came before luxurious embellishments, and a professional office would be ideal, yet, they'd have to settle for the shabbiness it currently possessed, since the would-be therapist hadn't had ample time to arrange everything so that it would be 'just so'. |
| Cressida | Cressida must have taken a wrong turn somewhere on her way to Rosemarie's. Of course the store had been closed too which didnt help. Instead she finds herself in front of some non-descript building somewhere nearby, and she knocks softly in the door before pushing it, finding it gives way under her hand. "Hello? Anyone home?" She asks as she glances around. Looks like they haven't quite set up shop yet, as she sees someone moving furniture around..Hmm, interesting little place.. |
| Blivon | When Cress opens the door, the guru twists his head to look over his shoulder at the new arrival, so that he can try to appraise her; not for judging as to whether she was good or bad, but just to see if she was /potentially/ a threat, for example, if she had any weapons on her person. People without knives and guns could still be dangerous, because there were spell-casters abound in the city, but Blivon would've had enough sense to be able to get a hint of such emanations from those in his proximity. They'd have to really be overflowing with magic for him to feel it, without using some kind of scanning voodoo, nonetheless, Cress didn't seem to have ill intent, whether or not she was capable of dishing out a bit of havoc; with the lobby already being as disorderly as possible, having just 'moved in', there wasn't a lot she could really do to the property.... Blivon would've been the only thing of value that could truly be rearranged in a horrible manner. "I wouldn't say this is my home. So, the answer would be no, but despite that, hello to you as well!" He says to Cress, in a friendly way. |
| Cressida | Cressida notices Blivon as he moves furniture around, and nods curtly to him. "Hmm. So you must be the owner of this establishment. And what exactly is this place?" She seems more curious than anything else, and yes she carries a weapon - a large spear across her back, but she does not seem to have come here with ill intent as it remains strapped to her back as hse peers about. "I was actually searching for Rosemarie's Magic shop, but I got lost. Perhaps you know where I can find it?" |
| Blivon | The fact that her pike is holstered is already one reassurance, but that didn't mean his guard would go down completely; some people liked to lull their opponents into a false sense of security, and Blivon would have none of that! He doesn't suspect her, by contrast, but it was always good to be wary of everything one could possibly take into account.... but most importantly was the fact that the newcomer was interested in finding out the nature of the building- it wasn't empty, so it had to have some kind of purpose. "This is a small house. I'm hoping in the near future that I can convert it into an office where I'll be able to help folks see their world in a different light, if the world they might see during their present moment of time, would happen to be a dismal one." When she asks about Rosemarie's store, Blivon's expression brightens a tad, "I do know where you can find it. I've been there a few times, myself. Do you want me to give you directions?" |
| Cressida | Cressida peers intently at his tattoos, noting his massive height. Hmm, strange. He sure doesn't look like a therapist. Probably some sort of new agey type of therapist at best. STill, who is she to judge, being something of a psycho killer underneath this facade, although not exactly of her own free will. "Hmm..." She walks around the lobby, peering at this and that. Probably not much to see yet, as he's only just moved in - quite recently by the looks of things. "I see. Then, you are some sort of therapist of the mind, I take it?" Incidently, mention of Rosemarie's store, and his knowledge of it takes a back burner for now. "Later. Later.." she waves a dismissive hand. "For now, I'd like to hear more about what you do here. Do you need a hand to set up?" Not an overly friendly or polite individual, she is nonetheless practical, and knows she'll get more information out of him if she helps him when he seems to be quite busy. |
| Blivon | Not as massive as some, and not as small as others, Blivon probably ranged in the realm of 'large' by the standards of most humans, but if he were a basketball player, or some kind of ectomorph, then the odds were that he'd be just about average, give or take an inch, thereabouts. Whether he was new age or not wasn't exactly specified as part of his getup, but some of his roots came from ancient Ivalice, aside from ancient China, since he'd been reading up on Confucianism, which meant that 'new age' would have probably been the polar opposite of the term needed to describe his approach! Nevertheless, whatever his methods were, here he was, eager to pass on whatever he could to help others, provided it did little to hinder in the process..... even alleged 'psychopaths' like Cressida. The guru would've commended her on one thing that she abstained from inwardly, if he'd known about it- she chose to try not to judge, which Blivon felt was the key to healthy living. Pausing for a moment, he stopped pushing a sofa, and grabbed a ceramic mug from a cupboard, then filled it with some water from out of his aqua-cooler; the filtered hydrogen wasn't actually cold, but room temperature-- again, as a naturalist, the druid yoked as little electricity as possible! How's that for being 'new age'? When Cressida asks him what he is, he responds, "I am many things, but my profession is that of rehabilitation, in a mental, and emotional sense." He grins, "I do attempt to help others with dietary advice, but I cannot say I specialize in physiology as well as I do in the everlasting truths of existence." Blivon gives a thumbs up, and takes a sip of his beverage, wondering why the wolfen woman has suddenly abandoned her quest to find out about Rosemarie's consultation center, but pays it little mind; if Cressida wants to discuss it later, then he has no need to rush her to it. When she asks if the holy-man needs a hand, he shakes his head in negation, "I need very little. If that was an offer, I do appreciate it, but I never mistake wants for needs." He shoots a glance towards the jug of water, "On the other hand.... do -you- need some water, at this moment, or some way of easing your mind, presuming that your quality of life is leading you down the path of ruination? I can certainly provide the former, and depending on how open you are to hearing alternate ideologies to your own, then I may be able to help with the latter, too....." |
| Cressida | She does seem to be a bit impatient, not one for long soliliquies, although she DID want to find out more about this Rosemarie. But for now at least, she might as well learn what she can about this Blivon fellow. However, it seems her assumptions were correct. "So..A therapist, then. How..Interesting." Surprising, more like. He certainly does not look like a therapist, but more like some sort of body builder. But who is she to judge people by their appearances? Afterall, Cressida is pretty...Unusual herself. Still, she's not ready to trust him just yet. "I see..And I presume you are just starting out in your practice? Or have you some experience under your belt? I wonder...If you've had much success with your patients.." Her cold gaze continues to wander around the room, even though she stays standing where she is, in front of Blivon, eyes finally returning to take him in. She nods as he offers her some water. "Certainly, I would appreciate a glass of water. Perhaps a little chat. Tell me, if you will, what is your definition of 'wants' versus 'needs?'. I am..Curious, to learn more about what you do here..How you help others.." Of course, she never considered a therapist before. This might be...Interesting.. |
| Blivon | The guru shook his head when Cressida mused over his admissions, as far as his particular trade, despite his peculiar appearance, which had its roots in his druidic background. While sitting and drinking his water, Cressida asks him a very good, and valid question pertaining to his credibility, to which he has a very good response, which is every bit sincere, "I've had informal sessions with people in the past. However, I am certain that I have had success with my patients, for what they put in is exactly what they get out of their endeavors." His head bobbles side to side a bit, as he considers, "Those who think the world will come to them are people who in their heart, doubt they have the power to make changes.... and thus, they do not change, but since I only accept donations, and do not charge folks, they, therefore, get exactly what they pay for." When she asks for a glass of water, Blivon meanders over towards the cupboard to fill a glass for her-- it's actually the size of a cup, but since it's not made of clay or paper, it qualifies as a 'glass'. If there is one thing that is true of the shaman, he is nothing but precise in his deeds, contrasted against his speech. Traversing the room to Cress, he extends the beverage to her, after filling it with hydriant nutrition, and remarks, "Wants.... versus needs." He smirks, and raises a finger, as though philosophizing, "Well.... there are certain truths whose spans encompass every sapient creature in existence." From there Blivon lowers his hands, "Myself.... The Shadow Lords..... gods, demons, humans, lycanthropes, vampires, werewolves..... All of us have one problem in common that makes us equal." He shrugs, and chuckles, "Arrogance begot by materialistic powers would lead some to perceive that they are somehow superior in design to others capable of thought, but they are deluded in that respect. The strongest deity is no stronger than the weakest gnome." He winks, "If you can figure out why this is an incontrovertible reality, then you surely do not need /MY/ help." He turns away from her and strolls back to the couch, "....But, wants are things that assist in the temporary intermission of anguish on behalf of individuals.... whereas needs are necessities that apply to all forms of life, or undead, no matter who they be...." |
| Cressida | Cressida nods slowly at bits of information he gives here and there, finding a lot of it to be very well thought-out and deep. However, can she truly trust this stranger? She must learn more! She is quite surprised to hear that he only accepts donations, however. In fact it causes her to frown a bit. "So then..This is just some voluntary side job of yours? How on earth do you manage to support yourself? I doubt that most people would be willing to pay you if it is only optional. Sounds like you would be heavily dependant upon the charity of others..." Charity..Bah! Cressida was not one to rely on the charity of others if she can help it. It is true that the church had shown her some measure of charity and kindness in taking her in, but she did not expect it would last long. They seemed too keen on her...Abilities, and on pushing her to her limits. They also seemed to determined to her using them to further aid their own goals..So far she had received little in the way of therapy, other than encouragement to embrace her true, monstrous self..Which had led to a few grave injuries so far.. "Hmmm..I wonder then, what are your wants and needs?" |
| Blivon | Blivon shakes his head, and retorts, "This is not a side job. This is my career. I should also point out that I am not on Earth, so I'm unsure how I would support myself there-- but I will say that in the worlds where I go, I find ways of surviving that have so far proven reliable." He finally puts his mug down, and grabs a book, which is entitled, 'Do It Yourself Installations', which is no doubt how he's gotten things done so far, given that the lobby is still just shy of being a death-trap. It is up to code, but barely, which meant that he'd either have to get professional help, eventually, or his attempt at making his clinic 'nice' would be an ongoing project. In spite of whatever skills he had at carpentry and electronics, he was content to depend on one person, thus far; himself. Ironically, though.... he accepted charity for his way of life, but then.... the mighty Glabados, a religios institution, also received a high fraction of its funds from donations, since churches were all about donations; this isn't to say that Mullonde, as a theocratic government, didn't also /impose/ some taxes on others. Whatever the case, Blivon is undisturbed by Cressida's frown, showing that he could care less if others love, or hate him- or so it might imply! How deep did this wellspring of self-discipline run? Flipping through some pages, he looks over to her as she asks the question of what his wants and needs were, to which he paused mid-page, twisted his gaze to face her own, and spoke with the same tranquil tone he'd maintained the entire time, "As I said. My needs are the same as everyone else's. My wants..... Are fairly irrelevant, but I give into them, nonetheless, on a consistent basis.... which is precisely what I am doing right now." The holy-man drummed his fingers against his cheek, "Humor me, if you would be so kind, to allow me to direct a query in your direction....." He half-grinned, "If a large oaken tree were to fall in a forest, and no creature with auditory nerves were in range to hear the sound it could make.... would it indeed make a sound?" The age-old conundrum..... but the correct answer was not the one he expected to receive, for none yet who he'd come across had ever replied properly. |
| Cressida | Indeed, she does notice the borderline hazardous layout of this little makeshift office. It is a bit worrisome, and she cant help but wonder if he did indeed refuse to seek professional help in fixing it up properly and safety. "Hmm, you may not get all your answers from that self-help book. If you hope to open up shop here, it would be advisable to get the place up to par. Wouldn't want to scare people away afterall now, would we?" She smirks a little as she says that, finding it almost...Amusing. But no more than that. She's not the type to mock others or judge, unless they be heretics of course. She only seeks to offer helpful suggestions, and learn more about this..Curious person. "As for this being a career, it might be a good idea to charge people enough to keep you afloat. Afterall, even if your goal is to help people and not profit from their misfortunes, as do many therapists out there, it is still a good idea to keep your shop running and in good condition - and to take care of yourself.." She shrugs off-handedly, not overly concerned for his welfare. It'd be a pity to see this place close down however, - if he is in fact talented at his work. She accepts the water with a nod, and takes a seat in one of the nearby chairs, peering now rather curiously at his many druidic tattoos. "I cannot help but notice your..Body art. Is that part of your practice, or just artistic expression?" As for his query, she simply shrugs again. "It does not matter whether or not someone heard it. If a tree falls, it falls. And if it makes a sound, that sound is determined by the tree hitting the ground, not by someone being near enough to hear it. Thousands of processes occur in the world without someone present to witness it. It does not mean that action never occurred, nor that it didn't matter just because someone did not happen to witness it.." |
| Blivon | When the woman advises him to seek the help of skilled craftsmen to aid in the preparation of his facility, he shakes his head, and smiles at her, "My wants aren't that important, remember?" She did say 'wouldn't /want/ to scare people away, would we?', which was a reasonable statement, but that would only apply to people who viewed the world in a conventional manner. It would seem self-defeating to open up shop and never get business due to an ominous decor, but Blivon seems indifferent to whether his actions will be particularly fruitful, or not, which begs the question of why he'd start a 'business', and invest laborious strain into it, only to stand by and allow it to fail miserably due to a few minor issues that could be very easily remedied? Evidently, this fellow dances to the tune of an alternate drummer, yet, he still seems to have insights that orthodox mindsets might lack. In defiance of the fact that he doesn't agree that his wants are vital, he simultaneously accepts her opinion about the possibility of mandatory taxations being a good idea as.... viable, ".....It might." Is all he says, as he continues to flip through the pages, scratching his head when he gets to a specific page which he squints at, as if trying to comprehend what he's deciphering. When Cressida gives a response regarding the eternally mysterious ponder-inducing riddle, the guru tilts his head at her a little, thinking over her reaction. It's definitely more original than what most people yield, but still not quite on the money, in his view, "I disagree." He says this rather simply, and impassively, as though he were more knowledgeable on the subject than anyone else in the world.... but then, with what was it that she said, that he found incompatibility? Did he oppose every single comment of hers, or just one conclusion? This has to surely be the weirdest challenge Cressida has ever faced, before..... mayhap not the toughest, but undeniably, one of the strangest. |
| Cressida | Cressida arches a brow at the man, as he argues his wants and needs. Indeed, he is an unusual challenge, but Cressida isnt one to push too hard on other peoples' opinions. If he feels like arguing wants versus needs, she wont intrude too much. "Very well.." She shrugs, "Your loss I suppose. At any rate, I only came here seeking a possible session with you. It is up to you whether you feel you require a fee to sustain yourself, or if you believe you can live on thin air.." The lupine smirks a little as she says that, as if she found him mildly amusing. The way he doesn't even seem to know what he is doing. But perhaps he will find out soon enough. Well, whatever. She isn't about to offer help. She hears no response in regard to his tattoos, although this may be something of concern. Afterall, she knows how powerful tattoos can be, or rather, runes as they are more likely to be. Why, she has a rune or two of her own, hidden beneath her attire, branded into her body painfully as they were used to control her and to push her body to its limits in her lupine form. Yess...Runes can be...Dangerous. It causes her to frown a bit, folding her arms as she watches him poring over thos manuals. "Hmph. You still have not answered my question about those runes. As for the tree falling, I am curious to hear your reasons for answering as such." |
| Blivon | Accustomed to sharing his opinion when asked, especially in the confines of his own jurisdiction, otherwise known as his office, Blivon was at ease talking over anything Cressida introduced, which was not to say that he's preemptively suggest certain topics on his own, since he wasn't impulsive, but he always invited any line of thought from anyone else, be they a fiend of hell, or an angel of heaven; to Blivon, nearly all were equal-- a philosophy most preached about when discussing egalitarianism of one's worth, but scarcely practiced! When Cressida implies that the shaman might be of the mindset that he can survive on molecules composed of oxygen, he shrugs his shoulders, "At this moment....." he sets his mug down, "I am not drinking, or eating. I am living on thin air." So, he wasn't arguing, really, but pointing out that his his choice to believe what he desired wasn't incorrect, for the time being! He then raises the beverage and takes a sip, swallowing gently, which proves that only an instant later, he was prospering on something beyond that. Whatever his means of procuring what he needed, evidently he didn't feel the urge to divulge, since he hadn't yet been prodded in such a fashion as to elicit the type of information the wolfish-woman wanted.... but there /was/ information that she did want that she was certainly going to be persistent about obtaining, which revolved around his body-art. "One could say that my tattoos are, at present, dormant seeds that may one day be tapped into, and from them drawn the capacity to carry out what my being wills, if I choose to nurture this facet of my untouched talents." The holy-man smiles a little, and closes his manual, listening to Cressida more carefully, now that she's intrigued at the prospect of having a 'session' with him, in the hopes of.... whatever it was she aspired to actualize, by holding council with him. "Under which pretext was it that deigned the tree plummet? Furthermore, the sound's existence is determined by more than just the fact that it struck another solid object with considerable kinetic energy.... You yourself just proclaimed that many processes occur in the world without someone present to witness them." He finally places the manual down, honing his focus so that he can engage this woman more properly; he felt bad that his attention had been diverted to the effect that he'd overlooked the query about his runes, moments before, when he was engrossed in his research.... if research would be an applicable term. "If three tridents happen to be placed by three soldiers in a circular formation, in which all nine prongs of the instruments interlock, it may be deduced that none of them shall fall." He raises a finger in an exclamatory manner, punctuating his upcoming remark, "If even one, or two, or all three of these weapons is removed, then the remaining pole-arms will clatter upon the ground, thus, it can be said that no one single factor is responsible for another, in exclusion; ergo, you have inter-dependent co-arising.... Yes?" The druid tilts his head to the side, quizzically, posing this as more of a suggestion, than a concrete, and indisputable fact. |
| Cressida | Cressida seems mildly bemused by Blivon's demonstration that he can live just fine on thin air. "Indeed? I would be interested to see if you can keep that up for more than a few minutes.." cool eyes slide down towards his beverage as he reaches for it. Well, that did not last long at all, did it? "A few hours? A day? Or perhaps a week. No food, no drink, merely..Air. Or perhaps actions speak louder than words, hmm?" She seems to be having fun at his expense, whatever the case. However, she didnt come here to argue that point. He sure is an odd duck, and the lupine woman is still trying to grasp his reasoning. Peering around, Cressida takes a seat, peering only briefly at the manual. Certainly that can wait a bit? "Hmm..So then, I presume, those tatoos must hold some sort of power, like a mystic symbol, to be tapped into at some point as needed. Well, let us just hope that you know how to properly use them, for your own sake." It's not a mocking comment she makes, but merely one of concern. Frankly, she is quite paranoid about magic, especially as it messed her up pretty badly.. "However, back to the other matter about the tree.." She frowns a little at his complex thought processes, trying to separate the extraneous material from the essence. "Hmm as far as I am concerned, it does not matter how or why the tree plummeted, or even that it made a noise or not. Only that it fell." Another pause as he continues with more verbose ponderings. "Well...I suppose you could say that the spears work interdependantly..Although if it takes just one spear to make the rest fall down, then I suppose each spear depends on the other to maintain its erect structure. However, please enlighten me as to what the relevance of these musings are?" |
| Blivon | Blivon swivels his neck a little, getting out some of the tension that was trapped in it, and responds, "When the time comes to live on more than just air, I will remedy the situation as needed." She may think she's having fun at his expense, but since the shaman has lost absolutely nothing but a few moments of his own time-- time which Cressida herself needed to dispense in order to receive Blivon's, in turn, meant that the guru felt he'd lost nothing more than herself.... thus, at whose expense was the discourse? He observes as she visually peruses the confines of his lounge, waiting for her attention to settle on something that might trigger a response, perhaps give her some cause to seek further guidance, or maybe she was simply trying to amass clues. "The powers of these have not yet ripened, and decidedly, I've yet to heed the call of that piques the worldly hoarder...." He smirks a little, as if to point out that 'material power' was less a concern of his than it might've been to most others, even those capable of actually attaining it! "The relevance.... is as follows. I shall assume I have permission to quote us both, in order to explain my antics..... " The therapist wags his finger, "Firstly.... I asked you...." he pauses, for emphasis, "If a large oaken tree were to fall in a forest, and no creature with auditory nerves were in range to hear the sound it could make.... would it indeed make a sound?" He nods his head, "To which you said, "It does not matter whether or not someone heard it. If a tree falls, it falls. And if it makes a sound, that sound is determined by the tree hitting the ground, not by someone being near enough to hear it." He bobs his head bilaterally, "I disagreed with your arguments, and you inquired as to my explanations..... which is as follows." He folds his arms over his chest, and takes in a moderately deep breath, so that he can speak for a time without requiring respite, "For starters, I said that the tree fell, yet, not in which direction-- however, it is possible that the tree was in mid-cascade, and the polarity of gravity reversed in its environment, which has been known to happen in some places, at various junctures, given side-effects of some incantations gone awry. The tree would therefore not hit the ground, if it desisted in its plummet, or if it in fact, fell /up/, and into orbit around its native planet. Yes, it -could- make a sound, but that doesn't necessarily mean it -would-, or that the sound being made would be provoked by percussion against the ground, explicitly. For that matter, who am I, or you, do rightly dub whether someone heard it? Things that sapient beings may hear could inspire many an invention, or idea, or scientific experiment!" The oracle exhales, then grins at her serenely, tilting his head to the side, and comments, "This is why I asked you under which pretexts did the tree fall..... because there were many blanks that left room for rationalization, and interpretation, thus, when I gave my answer, you sought clarification." He gives a thumbs up, then takes a sip of water, "....and hence ends my temporary hiatus from sustaining myself on air in sole....." |