House Call
As promised, Squishy and Sylvia returned the following day with the ever-chill Steezy in tow. It made for a swell talkative afternoon, some of which was spent out in the sunshine around the hill. It was the most Angelus and Caim have "spoken" to anyone in a purely relaxed capacity since coming to Naboo, and Nowe was immensely thrilled at getting to ride on the red dinosaurs. Alas the visit inevitably came to an end, and the Jaa-Ruuk clan had to leave the system for business matters.
The day after, Angelus made true on her word and finally went out to visit the neighbors… alongside Caim, of course. The first stop was Dyllander Quyns, the head of the welcoming committee and biggest producer of wheat and barley in the county. He also dabbled in breeding exotic guarlaras, which are a necessity for any dapper country gent/madam. An accomplished bloke for sure, though not nearly as interesting as a space-faring sand scrounger and his saurian squeeze if you ask me.
Next on the docket was the vintner couple Hervonis and Melina Cerschwin, he of the fastidious timetable and she of the prim and proper forbearance. They were more relaxed in the element of their estate, and the wine on offer had a tart summer-y taste, if slightly too sweet and light for Caim's liking. Angelus saw no worth in the stuff, having never been intoxicated once in her ludicrously long lifespan and seeing what fools it makes of an already foolhardy race. But Herv was more than eager and willing to provide however much stock was needed to give the dragoness the proper lush experience … at a discount. (Meli admonished him his callous pitch, but when you're making fifteen-hundred credits and have nothing better to do with it, a sale could very well happen)
Then there was dear portly Prissy, or more formally Priscilla Dewdry: founder of Dewdry Farms Tea, one of the galaxy's most lucrative lowkey tea exporters. Her days were spent idling away at her quaint lakeside villa, participating in community functions and being a bundle of helpfulness whenever possible. The life of a magnate wasn't really for her, she explained, and thus served more as a consultant than a CEO. That way she could curate her product and make the most of semi-retirement at the same time. Clever old bird, this one.
The dread that plagued Angelus over being in the company of the rich dissipated with these visitations and chats. Looking past the extra capital and holdings, they were genuinely decent if mildly-insular folks. And although she would never call any of them "friends", they had the promise of being tolerable acquaintances. Certainly more so than the crew she and Caim rolled with. Bunch of craven, psychotic, perverted doomsayers, Angelus would reflect. Thank the gods there were multiple dimensions keeping them apart. But, no matter what reality you dwelled in, unwanted company would inevitably rear its unwanted head.
And that time came around the one month mark of the newcomers' residency. On a fine sunny day, Caim was tilling and making furrows in a patch of soil by the cottage. Dyllander (or just Dylan) suggested he put his land to use during their last visit and handed him some wheat and tomato seeds with a set of instructions. The idea of being a farmer never once crossed Caim's mind during his military career, but there was an undeniable appeal to growing one's own food, now that his energies weren't committed to protecting himself or wrecking unholy wrath on those who stood in his way. Plus who wouldn't want another extra physical activity to burn through one's excess free time?
Angelus sat slightly hunched nearby, looking upon her husband while her son babbled and rocked by a talon in the adorable onesie Prissy had gifted them.
The sight of you toiling in dirt is an image I will never not find amusing, even in another ten thousand years. And the fact you're doing it voluntarily only makes it funnier.
Caim looked up from his digging to shoot her a quick retort.
Yes, I would be very impressed by the paltry human-sized crop you raise. Even more so if you can grow an entire herd of cows along with it.
The farming novice only shook his head and refocused on readying his garden with a grin. But he got disrupted again, this time by the approaching whine of hover jets. Both he and Angelus looked up and immediately spotted the compact aircar gliding over their home, looking like a cross between a sedan and a Mini. The unnatural speediness of these flying metal toys at first unnerved Angelus when she first saw them, but that changed to scorn when she figured it was to compensate for their fragility and overall ugliness. And this one was the ugliest by far.
Who could that be?
The craft hovered, lowered and touched down a few yards down slope from the couple. As the engines cut off and it settled into silence, the driver's door flipped open to let out a sole occupant. A man in his late 20's of average height and build, with clothes that were anything but: a trendy black windbreaker, egg robin blue polo shirt, skintight black capris to match his jacket, and square-toed shoes as sharp as his pale bespectacled face. His short black hair was pressed to his scalp by the weight of excess gel, giving it a greasy sheen and imperviousness to the breezes of the hilltop.
Giving himself a theatrical dusting-off, he made several sharp strides around his aircar to the open space of the front yard. "Couldn't have timed it any better; saved myself the trouble of knocking," he thought aloud in a somewhat nasally, effeminate voice. He stopped some paces from the family, paying no mind to the draconic glare being sent his way. "Hello y'all, good weather and stuff. Doing some gardening? General hoeing? You might want to be mindful of your clothes if you're gonna go at it."
Just who are you? One of our neighbors?
"Okay that's freaky weird how I can just 'hear' you like that. But no, I'm not one of your neighbors; does this look country to you? I'm from the Theed Psychiatric Board." The snippy man drew out a little card from his jacket. "The name's Craig Howitzer, yes haha 'his family must be military' just get that out of your system. And if I bear a striking resemblance to a certain 'entertainer', it's no coincidence. Struggling college girls aren't the only ones using their natural assets to make ends meet."
Angelus leaned forward, letting the man's babble roll over her head as she read the card, her son burbling softly without a care. Relaying the card's close-up to Caim she pulled back.
Caim wants to know why you're here, and as do I.
"Straight to business, that's fine by me." Pocketing his card, he explained, "His Immortal Immaculate Divine Grace Our Lord Contractor thought it necessary to have you two undergo monthly psych evaluations for the foreseeable future, conducted by a licensed professional as opposed to someone with total (supposed) omniscience. And from what I read in your profiles, I can definitely say it's beyond necessary for your likes."
What in ruination is a "psych evaluation"?
Caim only shrugged.
"Right, mental health wasn't a thing in the Middle Ages or whatever timeline you're from." Craig adjusted his specs. "Basically it's a check-up to determine how mentally sound you are. As in, are you all-together, or straight coo-coo bananas."
Are you accusing us of being deranged?
"No, ma'am; if you were listening, you'd know this is simply checking to see if you're, as you put it, deranged."
Why should that be of concern to you? Have we not proven ourselves sane enough by how we live?
"In this line of work, as well as my own personal philosophy, you never want to assume things, because to 'assume' is to make an a** out of you and me. Remember that for future reference; it's super useful, not to mention courteous."
Contractor has not spoken to us for weeks, yet some slimy oddly-dressed worm comes in his stead to check on the manner of our sanity?
"Wow, that's super complimentary of you to say."
Does he consider us a danger now?
Another shrug from Caim, only this one was tinged with concern.
"I can't speak on his behalf, but given what you two are and what's happened around here recently, it's a safe bet just to make sure you don't wind up snapping and going on a rampage. I'd been in the middle of one and it was not fun, let me tell you. And it would be extra not fun if the tyke got caught up in it as well."
Wait, do you speak of Nowe? Are you saying we're a danger to him?
Angelus lowered her front and raised her haunches, snarling at the twig before her.
Are you here to take him away?
"You're really good at not paying attention. I'm not interested in taking your baby, lady. I'm here because of a little thing called prudence: to make sure the big fire-breathing dragon is doing fine and not about to blow up or anything. By the way, jumping to wild conclusions like that is a great way of making you look crazy."
It is you that's afflicted with madness to barge into our domain and dare suggest we're endangering our child. I can readily relieve your suffering by burning you to ash!
"Well go ahead if you have to, but just know they'll send out someone else right away, and keep sending them if necessary. It's a divine mandate so it has to be done. Plus, I guarantee no other shrink can deal with you like I can," Craig said flippantly, sounding annoyed rather than frightened.
You? Deal with me?
"You dragons only recognize people who are as rude and bossy as you are, and that's precisely what I got on offer. I take nobody's shiznit, and I'm not gonna waste your time trying to be all buddy-buddy to get on your good side, if you even have one. I'm here to do a job—quickly, preferably—so the least you can do is calm down, act like a client and answer some questions so we all can get on with our day."
You have no sense of self-preservation coming here insulting me, telling me what to do! It's as if you want to die!
The dragoness snapped a roar, which still did nothing to the irksome social worker, though it caught Nowe's wandering attention.
"You think that scares me? You ain't exactly gnawing at my leg with all that head growling of yours."
And you lack an appreciation for a dragon's restraint as well!
Angelus stomped one massive rear talon forward, however it happened to be the one Nowe had been leaning against, so the baby took a tumble onto the grass, crying out from the sudden inversion.
His son's bawling pushed Caim to finally act, as he stepped forward and sent a hard, murderous look at the disrespectful analyst, one that had given legions of hardened soldiers cause to lose their water. Craig appeared unimpressed, but he got the message and kept his yap shut as Caim went to pick up and comfort his son while also patting his wife to calm her down. Angelus breathed and let out a smoky huff, easing herself back so she could help placate her child with a nuzzle.
Yes, he really isn't worth it. Even if he does have a death wish, I shouldn't let myself be goaded so easily.
"I'm not trying to goad; I'm just laying out facts. The bottomline is that you can't intimidate or bulls*** me away, so you're either gonna bear with the required one hour I need to be here, or roast me and deal with someone else. You're getting evaluated either way, so what will it be? Hopefully the one where you don't make a mess out your lawn with my flammable self."
With Nowe calmed down in his father's arms, the parents consulted in silence some moments before facing the annoyingly persistent head doctor.
Your god shall answer for his indiscretion, but you're merely carrying out his will, so incinerating you would do nothing.
"Precisely, though I'm not some religious errand boy; I'm just doing my job, and I never take 'no' for an answer."
If answering some questions will rid us of you then we shall oblige. But know this, worm: if this "evaluation" is some thinly-veiled ploy to separate me from my child, every city in this world will be razed long before anyone can lay a hand on him.
"I hear you loud and clear; my own mother was just as protective. And I'm not too inconsiderate an a**hole not to admit that I started things off on the wrong foot, so here's a compromise to show you how flexible I can be." From the confines of his tight shirt Craig withdrew a notepad and pen. "I'll just ask you some preliminary questions and save the proper full session for another time, when we're all not so wound up. Sound good?" A click of the pen.
Yes, if you will just get on with it.
"Can do." Pressing ballpoint to paper he began, "So the ones I'm addressing are Angelus and Caim, is that correct?"
I am Angelus. That name had once been a closely guarded secret, but apparently everyone in this realm already knows it so why bother treating it as such?
"That's the Digital Age for ya. And you sir are Caim?" Craig said directly to the Caim in question.
He is Caim, and I ask that you direct all your questions toward me. He is incapable of giving a verbal response.
"Oh I'm fully aware of his condition, and I'm gonna address him all the same. It's important to include all your clients in a discussion, regardless of handicaps. Now, what's y'all ages? It's strictly for clerical purposes, so don't go getting all defensive."
Hrmmm… I never kept an exact track of my age. Over ten millennia I can say with certainty. As for Caim, er… How old were you again?
Angelus looked to her human beau, who reminded her with mock hurt.
Hmph. Forty-three.
"Not bad-looking for middle age, though the missing eye kinda spoils it." Notes get jotted. "Now for the actual questions. First: do either of you have a family history of mental illness? Schizophrenia, dementia, Alzheimers, those kinds of things."
As in are we predisposed to madness? I cannot say for Caim, but dragons are cruel and avaricious as a whole. Some might consider that madness, though it's merely instinct.
Caim gave her a quick addendum.
Right. Caim says that as far as he's aware, madness doesn't run in his family. However, he has been prone to the lunacies of battle, like so many of his kind.
"So it's more situational, gotcha. Have either of you experienced a psychotic episode of any kind recently? Been 'touched by madness' as you'd probably put it?"
Angelus rumbled as vague yet terrible memories arose in her mind.
When I served as the Goddess, I was shut away and subjected to indescribable agony for years. My mind was destroyed, consumed by pain and wrath by the time I was freed, and only the touch of death restored my senses. That had been months ago; since being reborn, I have not lost myself in a similar way. However, the nights…
Caim gently touched a wing, sensing the rising unease in her thoughts.
"We don't need to delve into those details just yet. Now, since moving here, have you experienced any major duress?"
Absolutely!
"Aside from me, I mean."
Oh. Then no, not at all. Some minor annoyances, but nothing terribly stressful.
"Mmhm. Finally, at this present point in time, excluding my presence of course, do you consider yourselves secure, adjusted, safe, in a good place?"
Caim and Angelus looked at each other, then gave a simultaneous nod at their interviewer.
Yes. We are quite at ease here. At least compared to how our lives had been originally, this is practically paradise.
"Good to hear." Craig snapped his notepad closed and clicked his pen. "And that will be all I'll need for today," he declared while stuffing his shirt. "I say we did pretty good despite the rough start, and as promised I'm gonna fly out of here. Maybe check out a farmer's market or whatever to fill in the remaining time before reporting back. In the meantime, expect me back this same time next week for the actual session, when everyone's moods are hopefully better."
Pulling out his card, Craig skipped over to Caim and slipped it in the gap between a hand and the baby it was holding. "My contact's on there. I suggest you hurry up and get a phone installed so you can reach me if something comes up, and also for me to ring you a heads-up the day before I show up."
Craig about-faced and sauntered to his ride, but halfway there he stopped and turned right around, focusing squarely on Caim. "One other thing: I recommend you take up sign language or carry around some flash cards, Caim, because I doubt you'll have a mind-reader around to talk on your behalf all the time. Also, I find not getting a direct reply to be," and here he signed out as well as vocalized, "Real-ly a-nnoy-ing. Anyway, that's it for me. Good luck with the gardening and welcome to Naboo and all."
Giving an arbitrary wave he turned around, hopped into his aircar and took off, the dragon and rider watching his westward departure.
Such an irksome and infuriating human, about on par with Verdelet. Only this one has backbone, albeit one formed from sheer arrogance. And we are to face him again next week.
Angelus made a draconic sigh.
I could follow him and set fire to his masters and their dwellings. That would surely catch Contractor's attention; at the very least it would paint a very clear picture for the rest of his followers.
Caim smiled and patted his massive darling's side, sending her discouraging thoughts on that enterprise.
Well certainly: it wouldn't do well for Nowe's development if he were raised by fugitives. I suppose we'll have to wait for "God" to appear like every other pathetic mortal, though the likelihood of that happening is fairly high here from what I've gathered. Until then…
Angelus lowered her large head and playfully nudged her partner's shoulder.
I believe you were in the middle of raising a feast to sustain your family?
The retired rogue smiled and nodded, and planting his son down against the mother's wing he took up the hoe once more. Thus the unpleasantness of the evaluator's visit was pushed aside by the casual toiling and the cuddlings of a precious baby. The knowledge of a follow-up appointment with that slick-headed weasel was a tad bothersome for the adults, but if abrupt resurrection following a decades-long period of separation taught them anything, it's that the present should be enjoyed wholeheartedly. Additional aggravation was a future problem; for now, the day was too fine not to enjoy.