Welcome to the rest of your life
Jan 5, 2014 7:19:08 GMT
Faolan Skye and Lasair Landevier Lupen like this
Post by Roan Everette on Jan 5, 2014 7:19:08 GMT
No stammering. Did Roan stammer? The thought crossed his mind as he bit his bottom lip and revisited the sentences he spoke prior. His nervousness hadn't subsided despite accepting his new place in the world and, with his current emotions not in check, decided his Commander was likely paying closer attention than he himself was and accepted what he said as truth.
"...." no words came as Roan opened his mouth to apologize, but remembered that the lesson was about keeping his mouth quiet and speaking when given permission. As if defeated in some sort of debate or war of words he closed his mouth and clenched tightly at his bag again, choosing to respond with a simple nod.
Something did throw him off though abit, causing him to look up with a furrowed brow. Acting decisively without hesitation? The thought of it unnerved Roan even more than the simple conversation they were having. And to compare it to medicine? Were he born with the backbone to be so bold he would be offended at the claim. One doesn't diagnose illness with such ruthless abandon! You test and prod and pick and question. You think and re-think for fear of making a bad situation worse.
What if your charge is allergic to the medicines you have in stock? What if the medicines needed are too expensive to aquire? What if the patient's injuries are deeper than flesh wounds and require mending of the mind? What then? What if amputation is the only way to save the victim's life, but they are unconscious and thus incapable of giving consent?
Action was required, there was no doubt. But action without full understanding of what consequences were at stake would not be Roan's credo. To act without hesitation, even if that action is the wrong one to make... how good it must feel to live life without owning up to one's mistakes. That was a luxury Roan hoped he'd never get the chance to experience.
After being dismissed Roan nodded again before stating "Yes Commander" in a voice high enough that it wasn't a mutter, but low enough that one could tell he was anything but comfortable. He then backed up to the door, reached behind and opened it before pivoting and turning on his heel to walk out. After the door swung back to it's closed position he let out a long sigh and slumped against the wall before sliding down to his rear.
"What have I gotten myself into..." he asked, face in hand. Before anyone could remark about his unbecoming behavior he pulled himself back up and headed for the desk from before, utility bag still in tow. Roan remembered that he was ordered to recieve a buddy to take him to his room. His room. That certainly had a nice ring to it. A rest was definitely in order.
Roan cleared his throat (as he usually does before speaking, inorder to draw attention to himself without having to speak up in a louder tone than he'd like). "Um... Commander Skye told me to come speak to you about my gear and my room." Roan coughed at the end of his statement, neglecting to mention the buddy his captain told him to find because his shy nature made him wish for a bit of alone time after the previous ordeal.
Hopefully the commander wouldn't find out.
"...." no words came as Roan opened his mouth to apologize, but remembered that the lesson was about keeping his mouth quiet and speaking when given permission. As if defeated in some sort of debate or war of words he closed his mouth and clenched tightly at his bag again, choosing to respond with a simple nod.
Something did throw him off though abit, causing him to look up with a furrowed brow. Acting decisively without hesitation? The thought of it unnerved Roan even more than the simple conversation they were having. And to compare it to medicine? Were he born with the backbone to be so bold he would be offended at the claim. One doesn't diagnose illness with such ruthless abandon! You test and prod and pick and question. You think and re-think for fear of making a bad situation worse.
What if your charge is allergic to the medicines you have in stock? What if the medicines needed are too expensive to aquire? What if the patient's injuries are deeper than flesh wounds and require mending of the mind? What then? What if amputation is the only way to save the victim's life, but they are unconscious and thus incapable of giving consent?
Action was required, there was no doubt. But action without full understanding of what consequences were at stake would not be Roan's credo. To act without hesitation, even if that action is the wrong one to make... how good it must feel to live life without owning up to one's mistakes. That was a luxury Roan hoped he'd never get the chance to experience.
After being dismissed Roan nodded again before stating "Yes Commander" in a voice high enough that it wasn't a mutter, but low enough that one could tell he was anything but comfortable. He then backed up to the door, reached behind and opened it before pivoting and turning on his heel to walk out. After the door swung back to it's closed position he let out a long sigh and slumped against the wall before sliding down to his rear.
"What have I gotten myself into..." he asked, face in hand. Before anyone could remark about his unbecoming behavior he pulled himself back up and headed for the desk from before, utility bag still in tow. Roan remembered that he was ordered to recieve a buddy to take him to his room. His room. That certainly had a nice ring to it. A rest was definitely in order.
Roan cleared his throat (as he usually does before speaking, inorder to draw attention to himself without having to speak up in a louder tone than he'd like). "Um... Commander Skye told me to come speak to you about my gear and my room." Roan coughed at the end of his statement, neglecting to mention the buddy his captain told him to find because his shy nature made him wish for a bit of alone time after the previous ordeal.
Hopefully the commander wouldn't find out.