RPer: [Flisky]

Character name: Zenric "Zen" Galastacia

Character setting: The Land of Belatona, world of magic and magical races, castles and dragons.

Age: 578 (Looks in his late twenties)

Race: Elf

Appearance: Zen stands at 5'6", 168 cm. He has long, raven black hair and bright green eyes. Like others of his race, he is very thin with fine features. He tends to wear somber colors such as blacks and grays. His normal attire is a pair of black trousers and a white tunic with a gray, cloth over coat. Zenric is never seen without his medical supplies, stored in a belt case that rests over the backside of his left hip. Hidden by the sleeves of his coat are twin scars that run the length of his forearms. He also wears a small silver stone on a leather cord around his neck at all times.

History: Not much of Zenric's history is known, by him or anyone else. He woke up one day in the middle of a field, no memory of who he was or where he was apart from a letter from the high priest of Finsrieal. He walked until he found a small village and an elderly human female tended to the wounds on his forearms. From there he went to the monastery where he found the high priest who told him his name, but could not tell him anymore.

This didn't stop Zenric from moving on, however. He traveled and as he did so quickly learned that he had an aptitude for healing and herbalism. He also learned that he somehow had instincts in battle and could defend himself and others easily. He continued to travel until he found himself wishing for something more than just casual acquaintances. So now he seeks out someone to share his life with, however is not forthcoming with this information. He also doesn't tell people he is attracted to men, something that not even his closest friends know, though may suspect.

The only clues Zenric has as to his identity are flashes he gets while he's asleep or meditating. He'll see images of himself raping, torturing, and killing. He knows he used to be a soldier of some standing, though for who or what remains a mystery. These images frighten him, and when he sees himself doing anything that might be construed as evil or bad, he will pull further into himself as punishment.

Personality:Zenric doesn't like crowds, though when stuck in one, he will step forward if needed. He prefers to stay in the background and only speak when requested.

Since he lost most of his early memories, he only relies on what he knows now. He doesn't believe he can depend on others, so he often sticks to himself and likes others to stay out of his way. He is loyal to himself and his god, but will ally himself with others if he sees promise in their ultimate goal.

Occupation: Healer, Speaker for the Gods

Abilities: Zenric is a master healer and speaks for his god, Finsrieal, the god of healing. He is a skilled herbalist who can make high quality potions and tinctures for the sick and ailing. Also gifted with the ability to hold a crowd's attention, he is often put into the role of spokesman for whatever group he is traveling with whether he wants to be or not.

Being an elf, he is also skilled with the bow and sword. Though he would prefer to heal than fight, he is as skilled with his weapons as he is his healing.

---

A wizened old lady walked past the door, her pace brisk and steady for one as old as she looked. A few steps after the door, her pace faltered, stopped, and then retreated. She swept some spectacles on a chain around her neck to her face for a moment to read the number on the door, then let them drop again. "Zenric Galastica?" She asked with a smiled as she entered the room. "I'm Agnes," she said, tapping a name badge pinned to her breast with her left hand, and holding out the other to shake, "I'm here to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

Zenric stood from where he had been sitting and gave Agnes a small bow before gesturing for her to enter. "Madam," he said quietly, giving her a smile. "The name is Galastacia. Of course, I will answer any questions you ask to the best of my ability." Zen pulled out another chair, setting it beside the one he had been occupying. He gestured at the tea service on a stand. "Would you care for a drink? The herbs come from my own stock, of course." Never being the one questioned, Zenric was not completely sure of the protocol. He was typically the one asking questions. Zen stood beside his own chair, waiting for her to either enter and sit or ask for tea.

'Any question?" Agnes asked, raising a white eyebrow and giving a bemused but kind smile as she entered the room. "And, thank you, but no thanks." she said in response to the query about drink as she took the seat Zenric had pulled out for her.

Zen nodded and took his seat after she had sat down. "Yes, of course. My answers may be colored by the fact that I, myself, may not know the answers." His expression hinted at something more in the sentence, but Zenric did not elaborate. He just smiled politely at Agnes and folded his hands in his lap. Being thrust front and center was not his idea of a good time. He simply sat there and waited for Agnes to start the questions. Internally, he was cringing, though externally, his expression was pleasant.

"So if I asked you how many times you'd had sex, who with, where, and in what positions... or who you thought of when you masturbated...?" said Agnes, with surprisingly frankness for an old lady. She leaned to one side so she could rest an elbow on the arm of the chair and rest her head on her hand as she studied Zenric with merrily twinkling eyes. her bemused smile grew a little bigger, and a little more bemused. 

"I would be honest," Zen said. A physician to the core, he held no shame about his body. "I would tell you that the answer to the first part is never. The answer to the second is a captain in my country's army." Zenric gave Agnes another smile. She may seem old, yet his experience told him that the more aged a person was, the more blunt they seemed sometimes. And Agnes seemed to get right to the point. "However, I doubt that questioning my sexual experiences is why you are here." Despite the fact that Zen was not shy about his body, he really did want to get to the real questions.

"No..." she said, in a slow, thoughtful voice, gaze wandering and smile fading into a more neutral expression. "I've just got enough experience to be highly skeptical when people say they're prepared to answer any question honestly. There's usually something or other that actually, they'd rather not tell me. Sex is a popular topic for causing blushes." She refocussed her gaze on Zenric, "And I'd say that's perfectly natural, wouldn't you? Would you not think someone a little odd for being prepared to share absolutely everything with a stranger?" 

"I see no reason to be straightforward with a person, be them a stranger or not." Zenric gave Agnes a small smile. "After all, I expect strangers to be honest with me when I ask questions, though my expectations might have to do with my primary occupation." He shrugged slightly. In truth, there was only one thing Zenric was not completely honest with, and that was where his affection were. His queen would definitely not approve.

"That is curiously inhuman." Agnes stated, matter-of-factly, rather than rudely. "And it seems rather naive to expect strangers to be honest with you. My daughter is a doctor, and a few days ago she was treating a baby who had been brought in sick. The parents claimed to have no knowledge of what was wrong with their child. After spending all day trying to find out what was wrong with the child, she eventually discovered he had been given a rather strong recreational drug. The parents must have known about it. And yet, they lied to protect themselves even at the cost of their own child's life. Doctors should know better than anyone not to trust people. But not you. Exactly how much interaction with people have you had?" There was a sparkle of amusement in Agnes' eye as she finished her speech, though previously her tone had been rather disheartened.

"Not nearly as much as seems to be required," Zenric stated. He folded his arms across his chest, and though the movement might have seemed a protective gesture, for him, it was merely to shift his weight back into his seat. "And it may have very much been the truth that the parents spoke of. It may have been some other guardian of the child who used this drug you speak of to quiet the youngling." Zenric tried very hard in his life not to judge people. It would open him up to knowing how others may judge him. He took a long breath, settling in for this conversation and readying himself to speak at length, something he was not practiced at.

"It was the parents." the interviewer replied simply, "And whoever said it was done to "quiet the child" as you put it? This was not the kind of drug you give anyone to try and "quiet" them. But this is not an isolated incident of human insanity. Do you expect the husband who beats his wife to tell you how she broke her arm - or let her tell you?" She shook her head. "No. People lie, even to doctors. Perhaps especially to doctors. Do you not think you have a duty to be a little more skeptical? People lie about how they got ill, how long it's been going on for, and all sorts of other bits of information that will effect how you treat them. You may end up giving them the wrong medicine. Does this possibility not bother you?"

"If they are willing to face the consequences of the lie, then let them make it." Zenric realized that his verdict was a little harsh, however everything he had experianced since waking in that field had steered his beliefs in that direction. "The husband may lie, but the wife is capable of speaking the truth. A person may lie about how long or what happened, but in most cases, those facts do not truly change the diagnosis or how they are treated. I am a healer, not a doctor. I do not give out medicines, as you put it, to cure a person if I am not absolutely certain in my own judgement of their illness." Zen's hand traveled to the stone around his neck and he held it. The stone comforted his mind in a way. "It is a firm belief of mine that people are not to be trusted, however, as it stands, if they are willing to lie, then they must be willing to face whatever comes from that lie."

Agnes arched an eyebrow. "Clearly," she said, "you have no experience of an abusive partner," she said, "that, or you're an incredibly cold-hearted, anti-social individual. Or maybe just incredibly misogynistic. Which is it?" Her tone was ironic, but teasing, rather than rude. Her lips were pursed in a skeptical little smile. 

Zenric let his hand fall back into his lap. "I am not the most social creature," he said with a frown. "I have been called cold on more than one occasion. I have never had a partner, therefore cannot have experianced an abusive relationship." He allowed the confusion to color his expression. "I simply do not understand how anyone, even a female, would allow themselves to live with a lie told to keep them injured or under another's control. As I see it, they allow it by staying quiet." Zen inclined his head slightly at Agnes.. "Of course, I may be mistaken in my judgement of the situation. I have little contact with those who are not soldiers of late."

"Even a Female?" Echoed Agnes. "And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?" Her smile fading and eyes hardening slightly as she started to suspect that the answer to her previous question was just that the man in front of her was in fact rather misogynistic.

"Your example earlier was one of a woman in distress," Zenric said, his pleasantly calm demeanor still present. It seemed that Agnes had brought the example to the arguement and was now insulted by Zenric using that example. "I can only assume that you believe it more likely that a female would be forced into submission by a man than the other way around. Therefore, based on that assumption, that would be the example I would use. It would seem that your belief is that men are brutal, or that your own gender is weak." An image came unbidden in Zenric's mind, one of a dead female, and he closed his eyes for a moment, causing the image to fade into the background again. Zen looked again at Agnes. "Since you take insult to that assumption, I beg forgiveness and ask what you truly believe. For this is no longer a conversation of trust or truth, but merely one of growing arguement."

Agnes shook her head, "A passable use of hollow rhetoric and twisted logic, but zero points for missing the point and bad linguistic skills. It us your use of the word "even" that is questionable, not your use of my example, as I'm sure you are well aware of." she paused to give Zenric a sarcastic glance, before continuing, "And minus points for your assumptions about my opinion and whether I take umbrage or not." She looked at Zenric in a rather disappointed way, "Do you always make quite so many unfounded assumptions about people you barely know?" she asked with her usual ironic lilt.

Zenric gave her a small smile. "I barely made an assumption about you, merely your out of context use of examples. After all, we were discussing my beliefs, not experiances of your offspring." Zen was getting a little frustrated with Agnes talking in circles and taking seeming offence to every word he spoke. "My use of the word 'even' would imply that I do not understand fully the female mindset. If I were a female, would my use of the phrase 'even a male' be under question. My assumptions were not as quick as your own nor as unkind, however, and I have already forgiven those." He thought on what she had said, then raised an eyebrow. "If we are indeed going on a point system, it seems as if I am on unfair grounds. For you have already brought in my sexual experiance, questioned, nay, challenged my beliefs on honesty, and made incredibly rude comments as to my past and my personality. Therefore, if I am not allowed one simple assumption about you, I can hardly have much more to say."

"Yes, it would be" replied Agnes, simply in response to Zenric's question about whether his usage would have been questioned if it had been males under discussion. She smiled inwardly at what she thought of as his rather childish forgiveness of her assumptions and decided that the man in front of her was probably not picking up her sense of humour if he thought she'd been so rude and made a mental note to try and tone it down. "I did ask you if you minded me asking you some questions first," Agnes pointed out with a smile, deciding to ignore what she thought were his more childish comments, "And you were the one who said you'd answer any question." She smiled, "And now you're complaining that I took you seriously?"

"I have given full answers to your questions." Zenric calmed slightly upon seeing her smile. "Well, as much as I am capable. When the words are argumentative, it matters not what tone they are in." He knew that a person could have a dressing-down even while the other has a smile on their face. "I am not complaining, simply stating that if assumptions are to be thrown around, I would rather they be done in a more fitting manner." He stood suddenly, going to his tea and pouring himself a cup. He did not ask her again if she would like one, but stood, giving her time to decide if she wanted one or not. "It might be easier if indeed this was a usual interview. But I never did expect this to be the usual." He smiled to himself as he turned back towards her and took a sip from his cup.

"Of course it matters what tone they're in." said Agnes, with an expression that told her surprise about the comment. "It's the difference between someone saying 'get out of my house!' as a threat or a joke - and that's ignoring all the different sub-types of joke. Tonality is everything. People can say the same words and, by dint of tonality, mean an amazing proliferation of different things. Language depends on tonality," she continued, "some languages more than other, but even sign language has tonality of facial expression. It's incredibly important." She paused, "If you're dismissing tonality then you're running a huge risk of misunderstanding people, who often don't say precisely what they mean. Irony is a prolific disease. it doesn't really seem fair to blame it all on the other person if you're determined to ignore tonality." 

"Not so much ignore it as dismiss it only in some cases." Zenric knew all too well what she was saying. "However, should someone call another a rude name, no matter the tone, would they not still take some offense?" He moved to sit down again with his tea, taking a small sip as he did so. "When a joke of ill taste is told, it does not matter to most if it was told in a jovial manner. And when someone is arguing, it barely matters if they speak quietly or if they shout for the entire realm to here." He rested the cup on his leg as he crossed them towards Agnes. "I believe sarcasm to indeed be one of the worst forms of miscommunication. It leaves the recipient open to hurt, confusion, or misunderstanding."

"No, of course someone wouldn't automatically take offence at a "rude name" if the tone indicated otherwise." Agnes replied, still rather baffled by Zenric's stance, and starting to wonder if he was in some degree autistic. "In fact, some people have a curious habit of seeming to be rudest to those they like best - they can call their friends all sorts of names and said friends will know they're not being serious. It's an in-joke, a greeting meant only for them. The insult becomes almost a term of endearment." she paused for a moment before continuing, "and as for jokes of "ill taste"... well, taste is a subjective matter. What one considers bad taste another does not, and an ill-taste joke will still receive different responses based on tone - is the person telling the joke satirically - ironically, are they being serious, etc. And as for your example of arguing - I would say that matters too, how loud you speak implies different things - but even calling it an argument is jumping the gun - someone may say something and it be argumentative or not dependent on tone of voice." She shook her head, "and the idea that sarcasm is a form of miscommunication is simply naive and an insult to linguistics. But I suppose we shall put that aside for the moment. Tell me, do you often have problems communicating with people? Or problems sympathising or empathising with people?"  

Zen paused before speaking again. He took a sip of his tea to fill the silence. "I do not usually converse with people. The few friends I do have typically leave me to my solitude. I only sympathise with those who are injured by means outside of their own control. I cannot empathise with people, mainly because I have not the experiances with which to compare." He took another sip of tea, not wanting to elaborate on the topic if he did not need to.

"And what do you class as 'means outside their control'?" asked Agnes, "surely you could get that to cover pretty much everything, if you wanted to - a leg broken through falling out of a tree one chose to climb, et cetera. So what exactly do you mean by it - what do you count as inside or outside someone's control?"

Zenric smiled as she narrowed in on a topic he would rather discuss. "Inside one's control could be classified as caused by their own actions. Outside could be caused by someone or something's actions. I would venture to include natural phenomenon in this as well. Falling out of a tree one chose to climb would be inside one's control. Falling out of a tree one was chased into by a crazed animal would be outside, however." Zenric paused and looked upward for a moment. "It would be of course be subjective to an incident by incident basis, however, I am comfortable enough in saying that an a person injured by means they personally had no part in would classify under 'outside their own control'."

And the people who are injured by means not outside their control - how do you feel about them?" pressed Agnes, running through various options in her head as to how to explain Zenric's answers in terms of psychology.

"If they directly caused their own injury, I will heal them, however I cannot say that I would sympathize with them." Zenric thought for a moment and smiled. "Of course, I cannot say that I would not sympathize with them. I suppose...I suppose it would have to be along the lines of exactly how idiotic the action was." He got a sudden grin on his face as if he were remembering something, but shook it off. "I could sympathize with falling from a tree. Being trampled because you decided to climb into the bull ring and slap the bull on the hind quarters, I would probably not sympathize with."

Agnes wondered how Zenric would feel about some of her own past patients who were definitely responsible for their own injuries, but, with a glance at her watch, decided it was probably time to move the conversation in a different direction, "Sorry," she said with an apologetic smile, "we're going to have to leave this tantalising ethical discussion and move on... could you tell me about the scars on your arm?"

"I unfortunately do not have much to say about them." Zen rolled his sleeves up, revealing the twin marks that ran from his elbow to his wrists. "Several years back I woke in a field and had these wounds. I am, as of yet, unsure if they were inflicted by an enemy or myself." Zenric had some ideas of how they had come to be, but was reluctant to share them in case they were false.

"And does it bother you that you don't know? Do you spend much time trying to figure it out?" asked Agnes, shifting her position in her chair for the first time since she sat down and crossing her legs.

"I try not to think about it. I have had more than my fair share of nightmares about it." Zenric gave her a slight shrug. "I came out mostly intact in the end." He of course did not share his nightmares, did not feel they were relevant.

"So this is a case of 'something bad happened, I don't want to know what it was?" Agnes asked, her tone curious and without judgement. Not wanting to know about something bad that had happened when there was nothing you could do about it seemed rather natural to her.

"More or less," Zenric said. He grew quiet for a moment, inwardly contemplating the conversation. It was never that he did not want to know, it was that if the reason he was left in a field injured was his own doing, or he was on the side of wrong, he was so changed now that it was a useless endeavor to want to know about what came before. "I built everything I have now on my skills after that incident. And whether it was bad or good, it has led me here, so how am I to judge it."

"My Granded always used to tell me that 'everything happens for the best'" mused Agnes, eyes losing focus for a moment as she concentrated on her thoughts. "There were instances when that seemed annoyingly true, but I could never agree with it... Anyway. Once again, we must move on." Having finished her thoughts, she looked at Zenric with a smile, "This necklace you wear. Is that something you've always had with you? Does it have any significance?"

"Yes, I have always had it with me." Zenric touched the stone around his neck. "I think it may have been a gift when I was younger, I am unsure. It does feel wrong when I take it off, though. As if..." He shrugged for a moment. "Almost as if it is connected to me." Zen let his hand fall once more, not sure if this was the answer she was looking for.
 
"Connected in what way?" Asked Agnes with a frown, trying without much success to understand what Zenric meant.

"In a spiritual way," Zenric said quietly, knowing how crazy it sounded to this woman. Well, most of what Zenric was and had may sound a bit crazy as well. He touched to stone once more, then shrugged slightly at Agnes.

Agnes nodded and in her head translated 'spiritual' to 'sentimental'. She'd never really understood or felt the spiritual kind of connection that others talked about, but she assumed it was something like sentimentality, and that she could understand. "Well," she said, glancing at a watch on her wrist, "I'm afraid we're out of time. Thank you for your patience." she added, standing to leave.

Zenric jumped up as Agnes stood. He held out his hand, palm up, to her and bowed slightly, inclining his head as well. "You are most welcome. And do come to visit again, I quite enjoyed our conversation, even if it was slightly off topic." He gave her a smile.

Agnes smiled and bowed her head in a return gesture before turning and leaving.

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