Private Basket Case

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah blinked. He had thought Tannor Grene had understood this by now. Maybe the man had forgotten, seemed he did have a great deal of clients. Either way, he would explain again. Perhaps a reminder would get the Doctor off this hypnosis suggestion.

"I do know where the fear began." This time Judah would be more clear. Knowing his luck it would just dive into more questioning but it couldn't hurt to try. "Fighter pilot for the Galactic Republic. X-Wing. On assignment and we were attacked by a swarm of nanodroids. Small ones, very small. They took over, a crash followed. I've got the burn scars too if you still want to see them..."

A small pause and he took a sip of water.

"Forced to do some things against Republic command, sabotage and the like. A very hazy situation. Woke up in the hospital. Couldn't stay alone so my ex-wife, then girlfriend, was forced to watch me at her place. I was scared of her idiot astromech, Sparky, and guess who was my babysitter since she had work to do."

A small shrug.

"Started the salvage company shortly after that."

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor nodded once. “I didn’t forget.”He stated with a certain calmness. “I wanted to hear you tell it straight.” He considered the details carefully. “A fighter pilot lives by control. Precision. You trust your craft. You trust your instincts. And then suddenly… the machine stops responding.” He paused for a moment. “You’re still in the cockpit. Still conscious. But you’re no longer the one flying.” His voice lowered slightly. “That kind of helplessness leaves a mark.” He studied Judah, but not in an unkindly manner. “And afterward, you wake up with gaps. Orders violated. Sabotage you don’t fully remember. Your sense of competence… shaken.”

A small pause was given while he took a breath. “Of course a droid unsettled you. It wasn’t about Sparky. It was about what machines had just done to your life.” He leaned back. “And then you start a salvage company.” A faint tilt of his head. “You didn’t run from ships. You surrounded yourself with them. You gave yourself controlled exposure therapy - on your own terms. But that doesn't seem like enough. At least not anymore.”

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Shoulders lifted in a small shrug yet again.

"Maybe. I've never really thought of it in that manner. I still enjoy the hyperlanes. Never had a real issue flying. Hell, we even salvage droid parts....they are a bit more difficult to attack you when they are disassembled is all. Salvage has been good to me though. Fitting."

Taking a sip of water, Judah regarded the last question that it wasn't working. Perhaps it stopped working due to a number of things upside down in his life right now. He had heard before of when a section of life was in chaos, often things he had considered dealt with reared their head. He didn't know the psychology surrounding it, only that it occurred.

"No, it hasn't been enough. Not real interested in hypnosis though. At least not yet."

Tannor Grene ​

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor nodded slightly, letting Judah’s words settle. He observed the subtle shrug; the way that Judah carried both experience and a quiet weariness. There was honesty in the way that he spoke of the hyperlanes, the salvaging work. Each of them were small victories and small routines that kept him steady amid the chaos of his life.

He didn’t push. Tannor understood the weight of disrupted routines; the way that people sometimes needed space to process, rather than to deal with solutions offered to them too quickly. “Salvage has been good to you, then,” he said softly and reflectively; matching the tone of the conversation. “Sometimes the work we do and the paths we take… they bring unexpected steadiness, even when other parts of life feel unsettled.”

He paused for a moment, watching Judah closely but without judgment. “Have you found anything else outside of work, that gives you even a small sense of calm? A brief moment where it’s just… yours?”

Tannor’s eyes softened with the warmth of genuine attentiveness there. It was silent but steady. He would wait until the moment was right, until Judah himself sought the next step.

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah's brows furrowed.

"Outside of work, like a hobby Doc?"

Sometimes it was difficult to read between the lines with Tannor Grene .The man could be referencing a hobby or something as grand as romantic entanglements. Purposefully vague so Judah would talk himself into the perfectly laid trap. Or at least that was how he looked at it from his angle.

"I have a few hobbies yes. I recently picked up birdwatching, that grew from my fishing hobby. Figured I was outside already. I enjoy cooking. Learned as a boy because my Ma thought it prudent her sons knew how to be able to fend for themselves. I've gone beyond the basics though now, creating things for the challenge of it."

He paused, thinking.

"For a hobby that is all my own, woodworking. I've been doing that since Makai was a boy. Not something I do often though but it is something none of my sons have a real interest in, so its often a solo activity."

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor listened without interruption, hands loosely folded in his lap as Judah spoke. When the man finished, a small approving nod followed. “It sounds like you’ve built a life with a good deal of capability in it,” he said evenly. “Fishing that becomes birdwatching. Cooking that grows beyond necessity into craft. Woodworking that shapes something from raw material.” His gaze remained steady but thoughtful while he continued. “Those are not small things. They tell me you are someone who understands patience… and the quiet satisfaction of making something with your own hands.”

A faint pause settled between them as Tannor brought about another point. “But I also notice something else in what you said. Each of those began with purpose: being outdoors already, learning to fend for yourself, raising your sons.” He then tilted his head ever so slightly. “I’m curious about something, Judah. Of those things… which one do you do purely because it brings you peace?” Another small pause. “And when you’re standing there with a chisel in your hand, shaping a piece of wood… do you allow yourself to simply enjoy the moment?”

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Oh, the woodworking. Definitely. Its rarely for anyone or anything but myself. Rarely have time for it though to handle some of the projects I desire to take out but the sentiment is there all the same. I can't say I always get to enjoy the moment. Life tends to interrupt but it is easy to shut the workshop door and zone out."

Judah paused, thinking.

"Don't think you flew all this way to learn about my hobbies. Feel free to join me anytime though, I typically don't mind the company. I'm sure after hearing a million problems on a weekly basis you could use a beer and some time with a fishing pole in hand. Maybe that can be our next session, make it a little dynamic. Get some fresh air."

Doubtful the man would agree but it was worth a shot. Tannor Grene seemed to prefer the quiet settings and thoughtful listening. Still could happen on a boat in his eyes.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor’s expression softened slightly as Judah spoke, the faintest hint of a smile touching the corner of his mouth at the mention of the workshop door closing. “I can picture that,” he said quietly. “A place where the rest of the world stays outside for a while.”

He let the thought breathe for a moment before continuing. “There’s something important in what you just said, even if you brushed past it quickly. When you step into that workshop and everything else fades for a time… that’s not avoidance.” His hands unfolded slowly, resting now on the arms of the chair. “That’s restoration.” Tannor studied Judah with the same patient attentiveness he had maintained throughout their conversation. “Many people move through their lives without ever discovering where that feeling exists for them. The place where their mind quiets and their hands know what to do.” A small pause followed. “But you found yours.”

At the mention of the fishing invitation, Tannor’s brow lifted ever so slightly, the hint of amusement returning. “A boat session,” he repeated thoughtfully. His gaze drifted briefly toward the window, as though considering the image Judah had painted: open water, quiet air, a fishing line disappearing into the surface. “I won’t dismiss the idea outright,” he said after a moment. “Fresh air has been known to improve conversations.” The faintest smile lingered. “But before we relocate my practice to the nearest lake, I’d like to understand something first.” His attention returned fully to Judah. “When you close that workshop door and lose yourself in the work… what usually brings you back out again? Time? Responsibility? Or something else?”

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Not lake Doctor, ocean. Go big or go home. Better fishing too."

Seemed Tannor Grene was open to the idea of relocating. Judah would welcome the change, being under the lights and scrutinized so to speak wasn't appealing to him. Hence why they currently sat in an office and not in the therapy room the Doctor had carefully curated. Judah didn't appreciate the feeling it gave him personally.

"Time. Can't hide out forever. Responsibility as well. Again, I can't hide out forever. I've got the business. Family. Whittling away at wood blocks all day doesn't pay the bills. Besides, doing such a thing screams avoidance, in my limited knowledge of" Judah waved his hand, trying to think of the word. "Everything."

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor let the word settle in the air, a soft weight against the quiet of the room. “Everything,” he echoed, his voice even, measured. “A tempting word, and one that carries more than it often deserves. You’re right that responsibilities call. Time has it's own rhythm, and obligations rarely pause for reflection.”

He leaned back slightly, fingers interlacing with his gaze steady but not pressing. “But I would suggest… not everything is avoidance. Some things are simply breathing, ways of grounding yourself before you return to the demands you cannot ignore. Work, family, craft; all of it can weigh heavily. Yet taking the time to step back does not diminish your commitment to them. It reinforces it.”

A pause, soft but deliberate, as if letting the lesson linger without forcing it. “You’ve discovered a place where your mind quiets, where your hands know what to do. That is not weakness. That is preparation.” He allowed the smallest smile, just enough to soften the words. “And perhaps one day, when the ocean is big enough and the air is clean enough, we’ll see if it improves our conversations.”

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Hm, you need to give the 'not everything is avoidance' speech to someone I know. Can't change a persons mind though."

He was thinking of Danger. The woman was so damned stubborn that Judah doubted she would receive the message. Not to mention it had to do with him so he was positive that would just make her dismiss the advice outright. Yet he couldn't control that aspect. As Tannor Grene had mentioned before, he was only responsible for his own actions. Others made their own choices.

"Consider an ocean faring session on the docket the Doc. I know plenty of large oceans with clean air. Just think if the conversations don't go the way you want, still a lovely day on the water. There's something that can't be beat."

 

[Tannor Grene]

Judah’s words lingered between them, not as something to be solved, but something to be understood. And that distinction mattered. It always had.

A faint breath left him, quieter than a sigh, as his gaze drifted; somewhere past the moment. It was as though tracing the shape of it from a distance. “You’re right,” he said at last, voice even, but not detached. “We are only responsible for what we choose to carry forward. Not what others refuse to set down.” There was no judgment in it. No frustration. Only a simple, steady truth. The silence that followed was not empty, but it was complete.

Tannor’s gaze shifted then, briefly noting the subtle markers of the room; the stillness, the passage of time that had gone unspoken but not unnoticed. The session had reached its natural end. He rose without urgency, movements measured, respectful of the space that was not his own. “I believe that’s our time.” His attention returned to Judah, steady as before. “Thank you for the conversation.” A small pause, just enough to let the sincerity of it settle. “I’ll look forward to the next one.”

Tag: Judah Dashiell