Posted July 10, 2020, 12:55 a.m. by Civilian Aedan Teller (Owner/CEO of OMAP Industries) (Steven Sigle)
Posted by Petty Officer Benjy Yousefi (Operations) in Post-Sim: CNS’s Office - Yousefi Begrudgingly Arrives
Fortunately, in Benjy’s view, he had arrived on the outpost at an inopportune moment for a counselling appointment, having had plenty of duties to attend to right away. Alas, there was only so long he could evade the scrutiny of the counsellor and after running out of excuses he found himself traversing the still unfamiliar corridors, en route to the counsellor’s office. His route of choice was rather circuitous, taking him through spells of well-kempt and modernised habitat and others he found profoundly lacking in their maintenance. It seemed he had his work cut out for him. He was pleased.As the petty officer approached his destination corridor, his movement lacked its usual vitality. Instead, he trudged along the final stretch. It wasn’t that he resented counsellors and the role they fulfilled or even his being required to meet with them. Simply, he did not enjoy breaking out of his forward-looking positivity. Too much of his short life, in his estimation, had been spent wallowing and failing to move ahead in life He didn’t blame himself. He had health issues to contend with then and now, his recognition of which was important to him, but he much preferred looking forward than back.
Before he knew it, he was contending with the flat surface of the office door. A quick sigh later, he sounded the door chime.
Benjy Youseffi - Ops
Music could be heard from the office, a slight reggae upbeat sound could almost faintly be heard as Benjy pressed the chime. As the chime came through the music lowered. Inside the room, Nathan would have been found on the floor as he had been doing pushups with sweat beading down on him. It was clear from the room that much of Nathan’s approach was different. Sterile would not describe his office, which had pictures of family mixed with art and artifacts alike that seemed to adorn his shelves. Behind his desk a baseball jersey with en 18 on the back that had Harland written on the back framed. Under the jersey were two different guitars, one electric and one acoustic as Nathan began to stand up.
“Enter, he said as he looked behind him, grabbing the towel he had placed over the toy chest he kept by his couch for when his children came by to visit. Nathan himself most likely didn’t come off as the image of what anyone would imagine of a counselor. He was sculpted in his workout shorts and tank top as he began to dab the sweat off him. Tattoos could be seen adorned across his arms and hidden under his torso. His hair had an almost purposeful disheveled look, but the most telling feature was always the piercing icy blue eyes that held back much of what he thought in any giving moment.
Looking over at his door he wondered who it might be. This was his open office hours, any of the civilian patients he often sees could be by, like Evie or Sophie. He highly doubts it was his wife or older niece, as they just burst in. Aedan sometimes came by for advice on medical projects, and he seldom knocked either, but he knew him and the Commander had left for a vacation weekender, thus leaving his daughter Cera with Chloe and himself.
As he waited for the person to enter, Nathan walked over at poured a glass of water on his table as he placed the towel over his shoulder and began to take a sip to cool and rehydrate himself.
Nathan Harland, CNS
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