8427/A Visit from a Friend

A Visit from a Friend
Date of Scene:	25 October 2021
Location:	Mairin's Office
Synopsis:	Mairin and Jon both got to vent about their respective crushes.
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Mairin Moran

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Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon happens to be on the Columbia University campus anyhow, returning books to the library and grabbing new ones to put in the messenger bag, picking up a coffee from his favorite stand on campus in a sudden fit of nostalgia. And then, on a whim, grabbing a second coffee to take to the engineering building--a place he's never actually been, as he was a med student and then in psychiatry. Nonetheless, he finds his way to said office and knocks at the door politely.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Desk covered in an organized chaos of books, papers, and notebooks, Mairin is sitting in her office squinting at a laptop as she pecks at the keyboard when Jon knocks. The door's open. It almost always is. And when she looks up, he can clearly see the weariness sitting on her. It's more than the obvious lack of sleep. It's something deeper. In the set of her shoulders or that look on her face, that clearly tells anyone with the skill to see it, that this is a woman who is beat down, but trying her best to make the best of it.

    "Oh! Hello." She greets him, with a small smile. "Come in! To what do I owe the pleasure..." she tries to remember the name... "Jon, right?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon smiles. "Yes. Jonathan Sims." He comes into the room and offers out one of the coffees. "I was dropping by campus to make use of those sweet alumni perks like 'access to the library' and 'knowing where the best coffee on campus can be found.'" Hence the coffee that he offers. "Which... it looks as though you could use it." He's looking worn himself, tired in a bone-deep way, but he puts on a smile as if that's no matter.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin smiles a little more as she takes the coffee, placing it down on her desk before motioning to the opposite chair. "Won't you have a seat? I didn't realize you were a Columbia grad as well. What degree?"

    She closes the computer and straightens a few of the papers on her desk. A few she takes and slips down into a drawer. Not hurridly, but deliberately.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Psychiatry," Jon says as he sits down. "Well, I did med school here, and then my internship and residency between Gotham and Metropolis. But my degree says Columbia, so." He shrugs.

    A glance around at the office, and he adds, "No offense intended, but I think I'm glad I went into practice for myself. They don't give adjunct staff much elbow room, do they?"

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin laughs a little. "No, no they don't. But I'm not even that anymore. Just a resident researcher. I dropped my classes a few weeks ago to make time for a personal project." She looks at the coffee, then takes a sip of it with pretty obvious hesitence. She just manages to supress a grimace as she puts it back down. "What kind of work did you do in Gotham?" she asks, leaning forward a bit.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon... hesitates. Then, softly, "I was working with survivors of No Man's Land. That's... my particular specialty. Trauma-related disorders, and specfically trauma arising from, ahh... well. Superheroes, magic, the like."

    After a moment, he adds, "That reminds me... the real reason I dropped by. You weren't at the warding of the Curio last night. Well, not everyone was, but I had thought, given how much you seemed to be helping John with certain projects..."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    There's a deffinite cloud that passes over Mairin's face at the mention of the darkest time in Gotham's bleak history. "That's admirable work to do," she says with a wry smile. "I was one of those survivors myself." She shifts a paper in front of her. "But as for the Curio warding..." She takes a deep breath, letting it out slow. "Well I don't have a room there... And I wasn't quite feeling up to a crowd." She looks up at him, pausing for a long moment, then glances to the open door just briefly. "I guess I've had a hard couple weeks."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon glances at the open door for a moment, commenting idly, "I understand the feeling. Do you want to talk about it?" He looks back. "The past couple of weeks, I mean. Whatever, ahh... well." He shrugs. "I'm good at listening."

    And he can get up and close the door, if need be.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin thinks about the offer seriously for a minute, then nods. She folds her hands on her desk as JOn closes the door, waiting for a bit or privacy before starting.

    "You know that I'm Nettie's apprentice." Its a statement more than a question. "Well..." She takes a deep breath. "I don't know if you also know that I have... feelings for her." She pauses to gauge his reaction.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I, ahh..." Jon clears his throat as he sits back down from closing the door. "I am a telepath. I can't seem to help picking up on... surface emotions, thoughts. I am /trying/ to learn to control that, but..." He rubs at his temple.

    "I was aware," he says. And then, "...Admittedly, it was rather obvious just from normal people-observing skills. You're quite smitten, I take it?" He's already done some of the mental math; there's sympathy in his tone.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She considers this for a long moment... then just shrugs. "I've never been very good at keeping my emotions in check. It's something Ive been working on. But... Yes. I guess you could say that. But," she gives a wry smile, "You apparently can't say the same of Nettie." She pauses.. "About me," she adds for clarification. "I... asked her on a date." She blushes a little, saying it out loud sounds very high school girl to her. "She made it quite clear that I was too young for her. And that she was perfectly happy being alone." She spreads her hands a little. "So that is that."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's expression is sympathetic as he says, "But that is... painful. Understandably so. Rejection is never easy, particularly when it's direct." Is there a little bit of pain in his own tone? Just a little, yes.

    He's doing his best to sound /friendly/ and not professional, but he can't quite help it. At least 'professional' is meant to be comforting, coming from him. "I would guess that you're the sort of person who throws yourself into your work after such a disappointment?" He doesn't need to glance around the room; Mairin's /clearly/ a workaholic in the best of times.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin actually laughs a little at this and nods. "That would be my usual habit, yes. But I've been trying to keep it reasonable. A.... friend," and theres that familiar peek of emotion again, "made me promise I would take care of myself. Eight hours of sleep and all that." She sighs and rubs a hand over her face and through her hair. "Not that I've been getting that either." She shakes her head, "And then of course there's the Griffin..." She actually freezes for a second, obviously not having intended to mention that and a surge of equal parts embaressment and almost primal desire run through her.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon quirks a brow. "The Griffin? Do you mean... an actual griffin, body of a lion and head of an eagle?" That's a reasonable assumption, these days; everything is turning out to be real. "Or is that a... euphemism...?"

    He stops, frowns, flips through what he knows; it might be odd to watch, as his face goes blank for a moment. But, no, he can't come up with 'Griffin' as a name for a street drug or anything.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin eyes Jon carefully, and he doesn't need telepathy to see her embaressment. But eventually she does start talking about it. Slowly at first, but gaining speed as it starts to come out. It's obvious this is something she's never told anyone else.

    "No. The Griffin is a place... A house. Thomas Blake's house. He's a.... Well he's an actor, and a former criminal. And a scoundrel." There's a fondness in her tone, but nothing resembling attraction. "He got me a job at the Gotham Cable Company repairing and maintaining a... Large prop. Regardless... He lives with... Well two very unusual women. A mage of considerable and likely demonic ability... and a kitsune. The messenger of a god.

    "I've... been there. It's..." She looks for the right words... "Intoxicating. And I truly do feel as though I can relax... and be myself there. But it's... Dangerous. I cant go back. The last time I was there I..." and that feeling of embaressment spikes through the roof.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon blinks at Mairin for a long moment. "Ah. I... would assume you did something... carnal in nature?" He lifts a brow. "Something you're now ashamed to admit even to yourself that you've done." /Naturally/ the telepath who wears sweaters and cardigans and has the posh English accent is a little weird and stiff talking about sex. Or maybe it's just the second-hand embarassment.

    He hesitates, and then says, "How long have you known Nettie?" He's clearly thinking through something, gathering information.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin only nods to the first question. She can't really bring herself to talk about it in detail and Jon probably doesn't want the details anyway. "It was just after I asked Nettie..." is the only exposition she gives on it.

    "I haven't known her that long really," she says with a shrug. "And I know that everyone says it'll pass. But everyone keeps assuming that I'm head over heels in love with her, or something." She takes a deep breath. "But that isn't it at all. I care about her. I really do. And I just want to get to know her better. To see if there could be anything. I mean, I know we come from totally different worlds, and she's experianced so much more... But that doesn't mean we couldn't be happy together, does it?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon just keeps the brow lifted. Then he asks, "Have you ever had a relationship before? Serious or otherwise?" No judgement; he's gathering information.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin gives a deep sigh. "I have," she says. "I had a girlfriend in college, when I was young," as if she isn't still. "She broke up with me after about a year. I wasn't paying enough attention to her. I was too absorbed in my work... studies... school..." She shrugs helplessly, but the guilt is obvious.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon snorts softly. "Better than 'because you got into one too many bar fights over utterly ridiculous points of trivia.'" He sighs, peers down at his coffee for a moment, expression thoughtful.

    When he finally looks up, he says, "I'm going to guess that what has you working too much and carrying all that pain, and... spending time at intoxicating houses isn't about Nettie at all. Nettie's a... stand-in. The promise of everything you could have, if only you had /someone/. I would guess that you're just... lonely."

    He smiles a bit wryly. "Stunning observation, I know. Worth all the cost of my student loans."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She actually smiles a little. A genuine one. "Well yes... I can't argue with that." she chuckles and leans forward a bit. "You know I've never had so many friends as I do now? In the Night Brigade, I mean. I've never..." She shrugs slightly, "Belonged... anywhere. But it's as if everyone I meet there is someone else who... doesn't belong." She smiles a bit... "I'd wager even you. But all of us belong to each other now. And that's been a very..." She tries to think of the word... "Comforting, thing."

    She rests her head in her hands for a second, before looking up over her fingers. "But Nettie is... Different."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "You didn't come to the warding," Jon says softly. "It wasn't just for those who have a room. It was... John used the magic of our shared connections to provide the energy for the wards. There's a magic, in friendship, in bonds. But you have to... /cultivate/ those relationships. Put in the effort."

    He takes a sip of his coffee. Then he says, "Nettie may be different. Special. Unique in all the world. You could regale me with every glittering detail of limerence thrumming through your bones. But that... is not what makes a relationship /work/. If Nettie doesn't want you, then it doesn't matter how special she is. Whatever you /could/ be, will never come to pass."

    He hesitates, then says, "...Do you mind if I tell you a story?"

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin flinches almost as if struck, though there's no anger or resentment there. Just... a little guilt. She even starts to protest, to defend herself, but then stops. Because she knows what he means. It's exactly what Nancy meant. And what Demona meant. No one is saying she can't work hard. They're just saying she can't ignore the people around her.

    So she just listens. And nods slowly.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sits back a bit. "So. Once upon a time, in a seaside town in the south of England, there was a little orphan boy. I'm sure you've read how badly little orphan boys in England are treated. His grandmothers loved him, but one of them was never around, and the other was never quite able to understand him. The other boys teased him, his grandmother's handyman bullied him and shoved him around." A pause. "In their defense, he was a /deeply/ annoying child, always wandering off and talking back to people. It doesn't quite excuse the abuse, however."

    It's clearly easier for him to speak about this in third person, but by the look in his eyes... well. He's clearly talking about himself. "The boy grew into a teenager who was a mouthy know-it-all and had no friends to speak of. /He/ would have said otherwise. He would have said he had friends--the kids who paid him in cigarettes for doing their homework. They were friends because they never hit him, never shoved him around and called him 'Paki' or 'four-eyes' or nastier slurs that don't bear repeating. That was friendship, he thought. /Tolerance/ was friendship."

    He takes a deep breath, lets it out. "He got into Oxford on scholarship, and met a girl who was bright and charming and wonderful, and he met her friends, and he discovered that friendship isn't tolerance--friends are the ones that will protect you from the bullies, the ones who will listen to you ramble for hours about inconsequential things, the ones who are always there when you need to cry. He fell in love with that girl, and she was different and unique and glittering and special. Perfect in all the world." He still loves her, by his tone. Whoever she was, she made an impression.

    He sighs. "But... it didn't work. The boy was too brash, too bold, too arrogant. She couldn't watch him destroying himself asking piercing questions, and she wouldn't ask him to change. So they broke up, and he was devastated."

    There's more, but we'll let Mairin get a reaction in edgewise.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin sits and listens, her attention laser focussed. By the pause, she is smiling sadly. "He sounds pretty familiar," she admits softly.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon just smiles, and goes on, "There was another man studying medicine at Oxford, a man who was late to half his classes and always had to borrow notes. A self-proclaimed poet whose poetry was never any better than mediocre. Self-effacing, irritating, called our hero a 'posh twat' to his face more than once. A few weeks after the breakup, our hero got put in a group with the poet in class, and one can imagine them both complaining to their friends, at the same time, about how much they /could not stand each other/." His expression, despite the words, is a mixture of fond nostalgia and deep pain.

    "But they grew to know one another, and over time they fell in love. And this was the thing that /truly/ made the poet special and unique in all the world: he loved our hero exactly as he was. Flaws and imperfections, long working hours, acerbic personality, panic attacks, nightmares--none of that mattered. Or maybe it's better to say that they loved each other in part for their flaws. And they built something together that was more than the sum of their parts."

    He sighs. "That... is not to say their relationship was perfect. They had moments where they fought and bickered and one awful time when they very nearly parted forever. But they worked at it, together, and--"

    He stops a moment. Swallows. "And then he died. And then our hero was alone in the world, /completely/ alone, because his other friends had died, too, and he'd never bothered to make new ones."

    He sighs. "I suppose the moral of the story is that however wonderful a person may be, a good relationship is not merely about /them/ being wonderful. Love is about people thinking /you/ are wonderful. Love, and friendship, is about people wanting to be around you for who you are." There's a pained edge there; this might be more immediately relevant than it otherwise seems.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    It takes a few moments for Mairin to answer. She just sits there, eyes glistening with tears as she thinks over what Jon has told her.

    "I just want to be her friend," she finally says, her voice cracking. "I just want to be there for her. I don't care *what* she thinks of me." She wipes her eyes. "You think I should just let her go? Forget about her and move on to find someone who *does* think I'm wonderful?" The question is genuine. A sincere request for advice from someone she obvously respects."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I think that there's nothing wrong with being her friend," Jon says softly. "But I think that holding on to the concept of more than that, if she's turned you down, does you both a disservice. Nettie is old enough to know what she wants, what she needs."

    He hesitates a moment, then sits forward. "The people who deserve you... they're going to look at you and see that you work long hours because you're passionate and driven. How else would you figure out how to get a robot to cast a spell?" He smiles. "Really, that was... amazing, what you did in the bar the other day."

    He worries at his lip, then says, "I am not saying Nettie /doesn't/ deserve you. I doubt she'd have agreed to teach you if she didn't see potential in you. I just mean that you should not focus everything on one person, particularly if you /aren't/ head over heels in love with her."

    He smiles a bit ruefully. "...Trust me, I've had to learn /that/ lesson myself, these last couple of weeks."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    :chuckles a bit, which turns into a cough as she also has to sniff too. She turns to pluck a couple tissues and hands one to Jon before using hers.

    "I understand what you're saying. And I *am* trying. I promise. I just..." She sighs and rolls her chair out from around her desk so there's nothing between them, then leans on her knees. "I just thought there was something. And... sometimes it just fdeels like there's just something wrong with *me*. Like I need to change things... to be someone else... Because obviously, I'm not doing something right."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Trust me," Jon says, taking the tissues, "I know the feeling. What is it about /me/? What am /I/ doing wrong?" He sighs. "And... it's good to improve ourselves, to try to be a better friend, a better partner. Some things, though... they're deep and innate. I'm never going to /not/ be talkative, and anyone who cannot handle that is... probably not a good friend for me." He grins.

    He sobers, after a moment. "I've... I really have been dealing with that myself, the past couple of weeks. John came raging into the Laughing Magician the other night, threw his coat at me, accused me of trying to steal the team from him. The team, the bar, his best mate..." He looks utterly baffled as he describes the encounter. "I still don't know... /why/, except that Chas had been projecting some insecurities onto me and... oh, lord, I don't even know what all went on there. But I... I've had my moments, more than once, of... considering giving John my amulet back. I mean... do you all really need /me/? I still... I don't know."

    He sighs, and looks down at his coffee cup. "What I do know is that whatever was going on there, it wasn't about /me/. I was a convenient stand-in, I think, for whatever trouble was going on between them. Which I realized once I stopped being so damn furious about the whole thing." He smirks. "I actually got the drop on Chas. I'm a bit proud of that."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    "John did that?" She straightens a bit, confusion on her face. "Well that makes what he said to me make a little more sense I guess," she mutters. "He was going on about how he's not a leader or a teacher... And I had to remind him just how *much* of a leader he is to all of us." She shakes her head. "I don't know what was going on there, Jon. But I can tell you we *do* need you. All of us. We're all broken and fucked up. We need someone around we can really talk to." She shuckles, "Do you think I could have gone to John with all of this? Chas? He's nice and he tries, but you're a professional, Jon. We NEED you."

    She reaches out to touch his knee. "Please don't leave us."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon looks up and smiles, a little ruefully. "I'm not leaving," he says. "I was there for the warding, after all. Getting to know people, fueling the wards. I'm coming to the meeting. I'm staying."

    He sighs. "I just... don't know how to help John, particularly, and I wish I did. It's... frustrating, watching him... be himself and not knowing how to help. I don't know that I ever did, all those years back." He sits back and takes a swig of his coffee. "They're fascinating and bright, people like John and Nettie... but we can't let ourselves be sucked into their orbit. A relationship should be a binary system, not a planet 'round a star, you know?"

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin sighs ruefully. "I think I could easily orbit her star. I just... I just don't feel like I need much, you know." Or is it that she feels she doesn't *deserve* much. "But I can see what you mean. John is... He has a pull about him. People trust him. Even as much as he pushes them away. Even as much as he tries to destroy himself, we all know he's doing it for everyone else." She shakes her head a bit. "At least John will open up to you. Getting anything from Nettie is like pulling teeth. She's like... A vault."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon snorts. "John doesn't 'open up' to me. What I know about him, I know by accident. As he's pointed out more than once... I don't understand him in the slightest."

    He sighs. "At any rate. You cannot force people to open up, or to let you in. You have to earn that trust, and you shouldn't do it in pursuit of something you've been told won't happen. Be her student, and her friend if she'll let you. But for the rest? I think you should probably give up on that, yes."

    He tilts his head a bit. "I've decided to get out of John's orbit, myself, at least in the sense of... emotional dependency. I like the man, and I know where the... abrasiveness comes from. The difficulty opening up, letting people in. But I could very easily spend my whole life pouring energy into him, desperate for scraps of attention, and wind up with nothing to show for it--and that wouldn't even be his /fault/. I'm just... like that." He shrugs. "Which is not to say I won't be his friend. I will be, and I will be there for him, but I cannot..." He sighs, rolls the cup around in his hands. "Trust goes both ways, I suppose," he murmurs. "And for whatever reason, /he/ doesn't trust /me/." He shrugs again.

    Then, "Nettie trusts you, however, or she wouldn't be teaching you. Perhaps focus on that relationship. Mentor and student. Take it for what it is, what she has offered."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She considers this, playing with the tissue in her hands as she looks down at it in thought.

    "Nettie is like that too." She scoffs. "She actually told me I didn't know anything about her. WHich is funny considering she refuses to let me in."

    She sighs... "But, you're right. I should focus on the relationship I *do* have with her, instead of trying to make something else happen." She looks up. "You like John a lot, don't you? How can you pull away?" It's not an accusation. Just a genuine call for advice on doing the same.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I have feelings for him, yes," Jon says softly. "Gods only know why. But... he doesn't return those feelings, not in the quality I feel. I'm not even certain he considers me a friend, really, not after..." He frowns. "I /really/ don't understand what I did, aside from that one fight..."

    He stops, and shakes his head. Then, quite seriously, he says, "How can I pull away? Beyond the fact that even /if/ he felt the same way I did, I just lost my husband not even a month ago? Because he doesn't trust me. Because he won't let me in. Because I have /work/ to do, with the Brigade and without. Because I just feel so..."

    He hesitates. Looks down at his coffee cup. Shakes his head. "It doesn't matter," he says after a moment. "I messed something up, somewhere, and hopefully things will mend themselves with time." He hunches his shoulders a bit, guilt flickering across his face.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She gives another sigh and looks over at all the papers on her desk. "I do have work to do. But all the work I *want* to do is with her. God, I've never been this distracted. And I know I could bury myself in work. I've done it before. So I just don't have time to think about anything else. Least of all her, or Demona. Just like I buried myself in--" she stops abruptly and blushes glancing back at Jon beofre shrugging. "But That wouldn't really help. It'd all be right there when I came back."

    "So... I guess I just have to focus on being the best friend to her I can be. Without expecting anything back. Without pushing, or asking for more?"

    "But... What could you have messed up so bad in such a short time? I mean.... if you don't mind saying." She chuckles. "I'm the queen of messing things up. I got the two people I care about most in the world to hate each other."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I would also suggest," Jon adds, "making and focusing on /other/ friends. It's easier to pull away if she's not your only source of emotional connection."

    Then he runs his hands through his own hair. "I don't know! I really don't. I have a perfect memory and I keep going back over it all and... all I can think of is that he resents what I know of him, or that I yelled at him one night. I... I don't... I don't /know/. One minute he's fine with me and even saying 'thank you' and the next he's acting like I'm deliberately trying to take over the team. One minute he's... dancing or smiling and giving me his Stories and the next he's yelling about how I cannot possibly understand /anything/. I don't /get/ it." He rubs at his face.

    "Maybe it's just that I'm not my grandmother. /I'm/ certainly feeling upset at myself for not being able to live up to Gertrude Robinson's legacy."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin actually rolls forward a little to rest her hand on Jon's knee. A purely friendly, comforting gesture. "I don't know. John is... Well you, know, he's like that. Him and Nettie both. I think that's why they get along so well. They both have that same... insanity." Its the only word she can think of but it's obviously not the one she was looking for. "I've had that with both of them. A perfectly pleasent conversation... and then they just flip on a dime. The other night? When I said John was complaining about not being a leader? One minute he's helping me, telling me what I need to make my wards... How he'll even check them over for me to make sure they're right. And the Very. Next. Thing from his mouth, is to go find someone else to do it because he's not a teacher." She sighs and shrugs. "It's gotten to where I just ignore it."

    She shrugs... "Some people... I think they live through so much, or go through so much, that they... I don't know... develop this arrogance. That no one else could possibly understand them."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "And that no one else could possibly have ever gone through anything, themselves," Jon mutters. He sighs. "I know all of that. I do. It's easier, when I'm dealing with it all professionally and not... dealing with things I don't feel like I can tell my friends about."

    He smiles, a little sadly. "It's hard to be new in this world, when you've worked so hard to get where you are." He gestures about. "I remember, the day we first met, you wanted their respect... and I think that just comes with time, the same way it does here in academia. So... I'd say give it all time. Things will work out, in the end."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    "The same for you, Jon," she says with a smile as she stands and pushes her chair back around. "Thank you very much for stopping by." She reaches out a hand. "Please feel free to do so any time at all. And please feel free to count me as a friend you can tell anything to. I may not be good at advice, but I can at least listen. That's something."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon stands, and smile a bit wanly. "It's hard for me to... talk to people," he admits. "I'll get there, in time. But thank you. And you're welcome, too."

    Before he goes, he adds, "You should drop by the Curio some time. Just get to know people. It's a nice place, even if John did somehow portal it in from Liverpool." He shakes his head.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She laughs and shakes her head to. "Of course he did. And I will. I promise."