Cid Kramer

-!- Cid Kramer -!- -!- Indie -!- Semi-selective -!- -!-Tracking headmasterkramer -!-

[headmasterkramer]

Afterward, she's adrift, lost, scooped out hollow and left wanting, wanting.

Edea stands at the banister, looking down into Balamb Garden's main concourse, and can pick Rinoa Heartilly and her own magic out of the crowd from high up, far away.

She has no idea how she got here, only that escaping, abandoning where she has been hidden in the headmaster's apartment like a ghost, had seemed monumental, vital.

One slender, bare foot raises, toes curling around the iron bar that mounts the banister to the walkway, and her grip goes white-knuckles, and it is only Cid's voice next to her ear that breaks her pursuit of her magic (and a headlong crash onto the tile three floors below).

Edea blinks, releasing her hold. Rinoa disappears down a corridor. The tether snaps.

"What did you just say?" -veneficious

  He had watched her unraveling, thread by thread. It was not the first time he'd watched this — he'd seen it before, the slow changing like a season from his wife into a woman he did not know. Like a coward he ran from the shift, buried his mind into anything and everything that he could distract himself with. Told himself it was what she would want; it was for the good of the children, but he knew now his cowardice had just as much lead to this as anything.

  Now he watched her, this woman he barely knew, bit by bit trying to shed this foreign skin and return to who she once was, but there was something of a madness clinging to her that she could not shake, and Cid could not help but to blame himself for his wife's suffering.

  So finding her here like this, poised for Hyne only knows what end, he could not help but to curse himself internally — stupid, stupid cowardly man!

  He made his way to her side, briskly but not so quick as to startle her, reaching a hand out for her shoulder gently lest she lurch forward off the railing amid her harried thoughts.

  "It's a lovely day out. I thought we might take a walk?" he reiterated with a tilt of his head, his gaze drifting between her own, seeking answers likely enshrouded in thought. He hoped it was not too late to calm the storm in her; he needed to be more careful when leaving her on her own.

[headmasterkramer]

[ wave ] for your muse to gesture to mine to come closer

Nonverbal Memes | status: open

  Holiday festivities seemed to have gone off without a hitch, all thanks to a certain someone who poured her all into her work. Scaffolding was coming down in the Quad and he was careful not to get in the way as he meandered through the piles of decorations in search of that very someone who it appeared found him first, judging by the animated wave and bounce on the balls of her toes.

  He would chuckle softly to himself, lifting a hand to acknowledge her, picking his way across the staging area to meet her. 

  “Miss Tilmitt, you’ve done it again,” he congratulated her, reaching up to straighten his glasses. “All I’ve been hearing since Friday evening is how much people enjoyed themselves — and that band! Very catchy. Can’t get the tunes out of my head,” he laughed.

[headmasterkramer]

timecompress‌:

      ❝ have i told you lately how thankful i am that you’re with me? ❞  gentle hands cradle rough ones,  caressing edges of fingers with each loving word.  ❝ you knew everything and you refused to run away,  you were..  the very first person  i— we– had met,  who didn’t turn away. ❞  head bows,  no shame in it  – there’s no guilt-hiding or reason to avoid eye contact,  edea just doesn’t want him to see her eyes well up.

❝ you love me, flaws and all.  you love every part of me and i still can’t quite process that. ❞

@headmasterkramer​

  Cid held her hands in his own, so delicate and soft even after all the years they spent apart — she still fit within his grasp as if her hands had been carved from the cradle of his palms, leaving his worn and rough like discarded scrap that still bore the faint ruts of where her fingers had been. 

  He gazed at their hands together, the wedding bands weathered but steadfast — had she worn it all along? A tether to the man she’d loved; to the woman she’d been?

  His thumb grazed along the band on her finger, turning it gently as a small, distant smile toyed with his lips. Her words kind beyond his deserving, and yet it joyed a small, greedy part within him to hear them. 

  “I thought once I gave you this there would be no more doubt...” he spoke softly, his gaze falling upon her, even as her eyes cast downward. After a moment he drew in a quick breath, shaking his head “at least that’s how it should have been. I suppose I undermined my own efforts a bit,” he admitted guiltily, wearing that guilt openly as he had from the moment she’d returned to him.

  “After all we’ve been through, Edea, I think it is I who should be thanking you,” he glanced down at their hands once more, giving them a gentle squeeze, “for loving a man who let love frighten him away from the one who needed him most.” 

[headmasterkramer]

❝ cid, oh.. cid. look at you, so kind and sweet. look at what you've done for these kids, for us. all of it to stop me. yet, you couldn't. they failed in deling and they'll fail next time, it is time for you to accept your fate. ❞ her spirit is callous and cold, unlike the woman he had spent so many years of his life with. the vision of raven anger before him spits out vile words, her bitterness spilling over. ❝ you could never stop me. you're too weak. ❞ / possessed edea time!

  He stood among the rubble of the old Centran building — a building they would have had fond memories of together, children bustling and tumbling over the threshold with muddy shoes and fist-fulls of wildflowers. He could almost hear their giggling now, despite the fact that he’d been gone for the end of it… gone for the end of her; his wife as he’d known her. The woman he’d come to love.

  “You’re right,” he admitted quietly, hands tucked in his pockets, the air about him of a man who had long since accepted this fate of his; the fate to be a failure at the one thing he should have succeeded at above all else: to be her Knight.

  “I failed you Edea. I shouldn’t have left your side,” he continued, gazing into eyes foreign to him yet knowing somewhere behind them she still resided. “I was a frightened, cowardly man who couldn’t stand the thought of watching his wife become someone he didn’t know, and so I threw myself headlong into Garden — convincing myself it’s what you wanted, and not simply my escape.”

  He withdrew his hand from his pocket and gestured to the spot he stood. “I should have stayed right here and protected your soul, just as I vowed to do all those years ago. For that I would accept a thousand times my fate, dear wife.”

  He tucked his hand back into his pockets, shaking his head, something in his expression darkening in the faintest of ways. 

  “But these children will not fail. They will stop at nothing — not even their own shortcomings. You of all people should know that. You taught them how.”

[headmasterkramer]

Has Cid been a bad boy?

  The worst boy. Someone should really do something about this terrible terrible boy and all of his failures. Quick, before he mucks something else up.  

[headmasterkramer]

How do you feel when people tell you that you look like Robin Williams?

  Cid glanced up from his morning paper, blinking at the curious anon with a cant of his head to one side. 

  “Hmm what now? I resemble someone?” A small, bewildered smile found its way across his lips. “I’m afraid I have no idea who this fine man is, but I do hope it’s a compliment. I’ve been told I look a good deal like the gentleman in Dunes of Kashkabald — the old archaeologist— but I have my doubts that it was intended as flattery” he chuckled and returned to his paper, that bemused expression lingering on his face. 

[headmasterkramer]

“Baby, come closer.” (From Mcthersheart. I can’t send this on anon xD )

Ultimate Sinday Meme | status: open

  It had been some weeks since the young Lieutenant Colonel and the dark-haired woman had begun seeing one another on a more official basis. They’d been introduced by a mutual friend, Martine, at a dinner party hosted by some big-time movers and shakers in Deling city; relations between Galbadia and Dollet were rocky at best, but that did not mean all correspondence had to be hostile — not when there were mutual interests at stake.

  He’d found her uncommonly beautiful, even in a room full of powerful and influential women, and though he had been a bit of a bumbling idiot at the time she’d found him charming enough to entertain his inquisitive presence. 

  Acquaintance had turned to tentative friendship, and from there blossomed slowly into dinners turned dates, turned drinks and long nights talking in hotel bars. Then hotel rooms. At some point the talking had stopped, and the rest was… well… history he supposed.

  It was because of this seemingly natural progression that he found himself in bed on one of the many mornings they found themselves in one another’s company, that boyish smile that never seemed to leave him even after everything about her had long since become familiar toying with his sleep-addled features. 

  “These Galbadians and their massive beds,” he scooted his way toward her, swimming through the blankets until he felt her warmth pulling him close, the glimmer in his eyes mimicking the joy that had its way with the rest of him. “You’d think they’d want to be as far apart as possible with beds like these… it’s a wonder they ever get anything done,” he murmured against her lips, work-callused fingers diving into the dark silken tides of hair that spilled over her ivory shoulders, so much paler and more delicate than the sun-baked skin of beach-born Dolletian soldiers such as himself. 

@mcthersheart

[headmasterkramer]

misplacedheroics‌:

He wants to hate this man. Wants to hate him for some great injustice done unto Seifer. He played a hand in it, didn’t he? With all the sage advice he so graciously instilled into Seifer. All the teachings, these soft little words of wisdom…

As much as Seifer feels compelled to be combative, he has enough sense in that thick skull of his to know he would be in the wrong. In what could be conveyed as only the rarest of gestures Seifer could ever give to another, pride is swallowed as his eyes fall to the floor, conceding an argument before it could begin.

Cid didn’t linger long, and Seifer would only flash those blue-green eyes for but a flash before he’s off, seemingly directionless until he comes to the far wall across the spacious office, taking in the full view of the Gaulg mountain range from that astonishing floor-to-ceiling view. 

In due time, he surmises. It isn’t like Seifer has anywhere to go. Seifer had followed, seeming directionless now that his agitation had been diffused. He made his way around the room with a slow gait, never one to stand still for too long, notably along the far wall where he had a full floor-to-ceiling view of the mountainside. For a moment, one could forgive Seifer for his sins– seeing that boyish wonder, drenched in sunlight as he took in that breathtaking sight. It never got old, that view… 

But oh, what soft utterance is this–? Be it an accusation or an admission of knowing something about Seifer…? Like a dark cloud looming on the horizon, the setting sun falls into obscurity, and that orange glow Seifer had just been bathed within goes with it. 

Seifer’s arm moves to hold the other from behind his back as he listens intently, quiets– not like that of a guilty man, but that of a wise one; desiring to know the reasoning for Cid to say what he did – but does he really mean what he says?

He won’t dismiss him. The cryptic message was received, but Seifer couldn’t react on it. Not here. Not now. Not with Cid– ever. 

Instead, he offers a humorless chuckle. 

“We’ve been through the proceedings– twice now, they believe that it’s ‘too great a risk to impart me SeeDship’–” Ah, he needs to correct, “Never mind my experiences. It’s just too bad for PR to have their criminal ward out doin’ something besides roaming the countryside smashing up Geezards and collectin’ screws because let us be honest here, Cid, that’s all they’d ever have me doin’ anyway, so what’s the point?”

  Cid watched Seifer for a beat, observing the defeat in his features, the sort of passive acceptance of this bleak notion that the world would never see him as anything other than a criminal. The older man’s lips pressed into a thin, patient smile as his chin took a dip toward his chest, one hand releasing the edge of his desk and scratching idly at the graying hairs of his temple. 

  “Ah, yes... the point,” he redoubled thoughtfully, drawing in a lung-full and releasing it in a wistful sigh as he regarded the blonde once more. “The point I had hoped to make is that it seems truly a pity to let yourself be defined by the damnation of others,” he stated simply, folding his arms over his stout chest. 

  “You’ve always made your own way, one way or another — never much caring about anything I or my subordinates did to steer you to the contrary,” he chuckled. “You’ve had a strong head on you, ever since you were a child. I’ve always admired that about you,” he admitted, no attempt to hide the genuine fondness in his voice, hoping it might impart some sort of noteworthy sincerity to his next appeal. “Would that I had been a stronger man, Seifer... I fear I let NORG’s influence steer this school and the fates of those within it too far off course,” he shook his head, waving a hand dismissively as he quickly added “I still don’t intend to fill the air with my regrets, but I do wish you to understand me a bit better, if you will. To understand that not everyone seeks to punish forward-thinkers and those who do not fit neatly in boxes,” he tucked his hand back into the fold of his arm.

  “When they brought you back after the war, Edea was beside herself with guilt and grief. She could not stand the thought of you in that cell alone for the rest of your life while her marriage to me and her unwitting possession granted her amnesty. She begged me to do anything I could — anything in my power to get you out of there. And she wasn’t alone; I don’t think I’ve ever seen young Mr. Leonhart so convicted about anything in his entire life,” Cid chuckled once more. 

  “But as much respect and adoration as I hold for both of them, there would have been no amount of appeal that would have swayed the Administration had I felt you were guilty — truly guilty. I have many flaws, I’m afraid, but you see I’m a poor, poor liar,” he explained with a not-quite-regrettable shake of his head.

  “Six months later, here you were,” he shrugged with a smile, gesturing to the room around them as if even this small space could represent a victory of freedom, “returned to our care. No lies necessary.” 

  Cid trailed off, his smile fading some as he watched the male’s expression. “I wanted so much more for you than this — day and night I argued more for you than this— but my word does not command the respect and influence it used to, I’m afraid.”

  He pushed himself off the desk and took a few ambling steps toward the younger man, pausing just shy of his shoulder, gazing up at him. “That’s why the responsibility rests on you now to show them that your sentence does not define you, no matter how much they’d like to fit you into their little screws and scraps boxes...” he reached up, resting a hand on Seifer’s shoulder. “Make it impossible for them to cast you aside,” he squeezed the other’s shoulder, leaning in a bit to catch his eye.

  “But be smart about it.” 

[headmasterkramer]

She is chest-deep in the sea before Edea comes to with a start, just in time for a wave to nearly drag her down, swallowing salt water, magic screaming in her veins. The moon hangs full overhead, and back in the orphanage, children sleep in dreamless safety. She screams for her husband. -desorcieres/edea, pre-game

  He’d been awake as he often was late nights, pouring over blueprints and paperwork for Garden’s construction — or rather restoration. He hadn’t been home more than a day from Balamb and there were plans still to travel deep into Galbadia to meet with Martine and converse on yet more specifics, his old comrade possessing far more knowledge of these old Centran buildings than himself; they couldn’t exactly start blowing out walls without knowing what lay beneath, now could they? And now that Balamb’s Garden had located a financial backer, well… things would begin to move quickly, wouldn’t they?

  The ocean breeze through the open window ruffled pages, but he paid them little mind. That is until a particular breeze brought with it a terrified scream in a tone he knew all too well; a scream for him.

  His gaze darted toward the origin of the noise, a sudden panic arresting the breath in his chest before with one swift move he was up out of his seat and bounding toward the back door which had been left wide open and swaying on it’s hinges.

  “Edea?!” He called out over the rushing of waves, his bare feet picking over rocks and grass and loose sand without a thought to the many warnings they gave the children — how they might hide sharp edges or barnacles that could cut him. The slow sweep of the lighthouse lamp cast streams of gold across the dark velvet sea, and he caught sight of her just off the coast, her pale skin and the billow of her nightgown silver in the moonlight. 

  His eyes went wide, staggering down the cliffside with a tumble of rubble behind him, taking off at a run once he hit powdery sand and crashing into the waves, one heavy, sinking step at a time. When his legs became too heavy to walk he dove in, letting the current pull him to her, cutting through the water until he felt the ocean wash her body against his chest and he caught her tight in his arm.

  “I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you,” he sputtered against the lapping waves, hand cupped beneath her chin to keep her head above water, thankful that his years in the Dolletian army had given him plenty of strength and training to make it back to shore safely without much trouble.

  Once his feet gained purchase he helped her far enough off the waterline that they could collapse into the sand and catch their breath, him sinking to his knees beside her.

  “Edea, darling, what happened? I didn’t even hear you get out of bed,” he exhaled, the fear palpable in his tone; it had all happened so quickly — if it had been one of the children, he might not have made it in time. 

[headmasterkramer]

( @misplacedheroics continued from x )

  “-No, no I suspected not,” he replied quickly, seeing it in the young man’s every movement that he was poised to flee; to extricate himself from what couldn’t possibly fail to be an awkward exchange, no matter how anyone spun it.

  Still, an exchange they would have — it was long overdue.

  “No no,” he sighed, clasping his wrist behind his back and rocking on his heels, “I’ve long since given up on easing this old man’s guilt with should-haves and could-haves. Life isn’t about what we wish we would have done,” he leaned forward a little, hoping to catch the other’s gaze with an upward glance and a small smile, “it’s what we choose to do now that sets the tone, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t linger long in the other’s field of vision, not wishing to be any more offensive with his presence than was strictly necessary, skirting around Seifer and taking a perch against the edge of his mahogany desk.

  “I said what I said because I want to make it clear that I don’t intend to regret my silence in the future. Seifer...” he started again, taking a quick breath, his gaze narrowing on the blonde with careful assessment. “Whatever it is you may think you are trying to accomplish with whatever it is you may, or may not be doing, I’m imploring you to consider your options very carefully,” he stated simply. 

  There was no accusation in his gaze, nor even really an intention to fish out information. There was no evidence at all, besides his cryptic words, that he knew anything was afoot, or even intended on doing anything about it if he did. 

  “Mr. Leonhart informs me that you’ve been a great asset to this academy as of late, and have shown exemplary improvement — as is clear by your long-awaited SeeDship. He has appealed to the board, and to myself personally several times for your case to be reviewed with this information in mind,” he trailed off, angling his head in the other’s direction, “you do know he has been your biggest advocate?”

[headmasterkramer]

“I wonder if it’s rigged…” -thesorceressedea

Garden Festival Icebreaker Meme | status: open

Cid chuckled to himself at the soft musings of his wife, casting her a sidelong glance before turning his gaze back to the game, watching the cadet try his hardest to shoot the moving targets. He shrugged a single shoulder, hands tucked into pockets. “You used to love to tell me about them... remember?” He nodded to the bright-eyed brunette eagerly cheering the boy on, “Selphie and her mischievous spirit. Irvine and his earnest heart. Seifer and his brilliant mind. Quistis and her strong leadership. Zell and his endless energy. Squall and his quiet contemplation...” he trailed off for a moment, his gaze going distant.

“They’ve grown. Changed over the years — it’s been fascinating to watch, if a little bittersweet. But they’re still the same in so many ways,” he smiled to himself, shaking his head. “No matter their differences I don’t think a single one of them would punish earnest effort. That’s not to say they’d make it easy, no... but life’s already been so unkind to them... I don’t think they have it in them to make it harder on others — even if it means taking the hardships on themselves.”

He hummed to himself, contemplating his words before nodding in a finite manner, satisfied. “Yes — seeing them all today, donating their time and efforts to such a simple but necessary cause, despite what the world still puts them through, I know this is true.”

[headmasterkramer]

( @corditeheart [Seifer] continued from x )

  “-Then you’ve failed again,” he shrugged his shoulder as if it were such a simple thing; not something to stew over so very deeply.

  “And you’ll start again. And fail again. And start again. And fail again... until you’ve learned whatever lesson you were put here to learn,” he leaned back against his desk, perching on the edge and crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed at the young man that even as a child had such intense, aspiring eyes. Eyes that searched. Eyes that knew pain far beyond their years. He’d seen eyes similar to Seifer’s in every orphan child that passed through his academy, but none quite so invoking as these.

  “This is nothing new, Seifer — your life has been filled with starts and failures, with disappointments; what is it you are afraid of?” he pressed him, meaning nothing harsh by his words. It was simply a fact; the world had been letting Seifer down from day one, and he himself was no exception to this fact.

  But this was a discussion for a later time, once the gap had been bridged. 

[headmasterkramer]

dolletian‌:

@headmasterkramer

♔  ┊   Deeply invested in her work, with her reading glasses slowly sliding down the bridge of her nose as she tilted down her head while she was flipping through the paperwork. Despite being deep in focus, she was not the tiniest bit startled when the intercom rang. Without even turning her head she reached out her hand and put her assistant on speakerphone.

❛  Mhm…what is it, Fern? ❜

❛  Cid Kramer is here to see you, ma’am. ❜

Finally, she lifted her head, removing her reading glasses as she did. Why of course. After informing her assistant that she was ready to see him, she piled up all her work and slid it into her desk drawer while waiting for the headmaster to make his way into her office. When she heard the eventual knock on the door, she welcomed the man into her office. 

Cid looked tired, or so she thought. They had only met a couple of times in person - as they usually remained in contact through letters - and on each meeting, the headmaster looked more tired than in the last. Perhaps it came with age. Then again, considering everything that had happened in the not too distant history, she could not really blame him.

❛  Ah, Mr. Kramer. For what do I owe the pleasure?  ❜

  It had been some time since Cid had set foot in Dollet himself. Always the same excuses — too busy running a school and orchestrating a war — and yet his old military post called to him from time to time, beckoning him to ages before Gardens and orphanages. 

  He’d remembered this office under the Duke’s reign. A distant memory, but still one that rang in his mind as he stood here in front of her, admiring a woman’s touch — subtle, but markedly different from the smoky grit of the offices of generals and men he’d known in his life. The woman behind the desk, the late Duke’s daughter, was one he’d known well enough through the years, the struggles of their waning military presence in this world a prime situation for SeeD intervention, when it came time for it. Their plight was one near to his heart — personal in that he had once served in the Dolletian military himself before his injury and subsequent honorable discharge— so when the Duchess had come to him seeking aid it had been an easy negotiation.

  “Your Grace,” he bowed his head politely, an easy smile on his lips. “The pleasure is mine, as always,” he added before addressing her question properly. “It’s come to my attention of late that we haven’t spoke in quite some time. War has a way of displacing friends with enemies, I’m afraid,” he lamented, taking a few steps toward her, hands clasped behind his back.

  “I trust things are well with you?”

[headmasterkramer]

thesorceressedea‌:

@headmasterkramer | starter call!

“The last time you were this quiet, it was three days after the first graduation ball, and you were still too hungover to speak.” 

Edea isn’t sure what to say, knees drawn up to her chest as the sea laps at the sand not five feet away. She kind of wants to jump in, but what precedent would that set for her future here? It’s already taken so much work to convince her husband that she isn’t insane, and it’s already been three weeks since the ceasefire, a Balamb victory.

“Will you please talk to me?” 

  They sat in silence on the coast of Balamb — a town so nearly ravaged by a war most personal to them both as if they had started it themselves. Had they not, in a way, given birth to both sides of the fight? Had the factions that joined in not merely been pawns amidst a greater scheme that centered on them both; a man too weak to protect his wife from the parasitic power within her?

  Try as it might the waves lapped toward them as if to wash away the years of turmoil, but never seemed to quite reach their feet...

  “What do you want me to say, Edea?” he spoke at last, quietly, a man alone on the battleground of his own mind, trying desperately to piece things back together — it was not meant to be an attack on his part. He had no strength left to fight. The question was genuine, a plea for someone to tell him how to feel, what to say, what to think...

  He was so lost.

  “I spent the last decade raising innocents to murder my own wife... made them believe I did it with conviction. Made them believe it was the right thing to do...” he lifted his gaze to stare off into the horizon, the evening breeze tousling brown hair streaked with grey where she had never seen it. 

  “It should have been me.”

[headmasterkramer]

//I’ve got my work cut out for me with this fellow.

So much history and headcanon to muster up — lots of room for creativity, but also rather daunting.

Please pardon the dust. 

[headmasterkramer]

sunny-explosions‌:

@headmasterkramer | Liked for a starter!

She’s got a clipboard and a pen in hand, absolutely giddy that she’s actually gotten a few signatures for new committee members for the first time in what seems like weeks, and she perks up even further when she notices Cid strolling down the hall in her direction. Just the person she’d been wanting to speak to.

He doesn’t appear to be otherwise preoccupied, and her question should only really take a few moments to be answered, anyhow. It doesn’t hurt to try!

“Oh! Good morning, Headmaster! Are you busy?” She asks, freeing her hand to snap him a salute as he approaches. “I wanted to ask you something about the Festival, if I could! I have lots of ideas up my sleeve, and I think you’d be the perfect person to maybe steer me in the right direction.”

  It wasn’t often that he took his coffee anywhere but his office, but these days he found a strange sort of solace in tucking himself in a secluded corner of the cafeteria where he could read the paper and watch the students for an hour or two of leisure before getting down to business.

  These young people — children and yet old far beyond their years, far too quickly — these young people had taken a stand with him against all odds. He owed a debt of gratitude to them that could not be paid by being a mere voice over a speaker; a suit in a seat far above them when they deserved far more honor than himself.

  He had just set down his cup when that chipper voice piped up over the din of breakfast, finding himself face-to-face with the transfer student from years prior — one of the infamous few, and yet still so passionate about trivial, local niceties. It was humble. Sweet, if a bit bittersweet. 

  The things we hold onto...

  “Miss Tilmitt,” he addressed her, sitting up a bit straighter. “Business before breakfast? My, you are tenacious,” he chuckled. “You’ll have to excuse me — I make it a habit never to discuss school matters before I’ve had my first cup of coffee, but if you’d care to join me, I think I’ve only half a cup left,” he glanced into his mug. 

[headmasterkramer]

"You have a minute?" In her hands, the latest field injury stats, and they're not pleasant. They're not awful, just not pleasant. "Or am I interrupting?" -kadowakimd

  He glanced up from his desk, fingers dry and dusty from years of sifting through ink and paper skimming beneath pages in quiet whispers. All things he had seen before — it was no interruption on her part, at least not an unwelcome one. He could use fresh news to further muddle his mind. 

  “For you, Mary, I think I can spare a few,” he smiled a world-worn smile over his glasses, gesturing to the seat across from him by way of invitation. 

  “Not the results of my yearly physical, I hope?” he eyed the paperwork with a grim sort of jest, knowing the truth of them.