Private Good Advice

[Tannor Grene]

The room was quiet in a way that felt intentional. Soft lighting replaced harsh overhead panels. The hum of distant generators and station traffic was muted behind layered sound-dampening walls. Every surface, every detail, had been chosen with care; not for luxury, but for calm. Neutral colors. Subtle textures. Gentle, indirect illumination. Nothing to distract. Nothing to overwhelm. A low table sat between two comfortable chairs, flanked by a small couch along the far wall. A simple tray held warm caf, chilled water, and a selection of mild teas. No datapads were visible. No recording equipment. No obvious security systems. The space felt private, both deliberately and meticulously so.

Behind it all stood the barely perceptible thrum of a Faraday enclosure, shielding the room from outside surveillance, slicing the space cleanly away from the endless observation that dominated much of the galaxy.

Tannor waited inside. He stood near the window panel, which was a simulated skyline slowly cycling through a peaceful day-night pattern. His posture was relaxed, his presence calm and grounded. His clothing was practical, muted, unassuming. Nothing about him demanded attention. And yet, there was a steadiness to him that quietly anchored the room.

This space was not a clinic. It was a sanctuary. When the door chimed, Tannor turned smoothly, offering a gentle nod of greeting. “Come in. You’re safe here.” His voice carried warmth, measured and steady, without pretense. “There’s no formal procedure. No required introductions. No obligation to share anything you aren’t ready to.” He gestured toward the seating. “We go at your pace. Everything spoken here remains here. I keep no digital records, and nothing leaves this room unless you decide it should.” A pause. Not heavy. Just space. “My role isn’t to judge, fix, or direct. I’m here to listen, to help untangle what feels knotted, and to walk beside you while you sort through it.” His gaze remained gentle, steady. “Whenever you’re ready… you can begin.”

Tag: Madalena deWinter

 

[Madalena deWinter]

Her right eyebrow arched at as the therapist finished his introduction and beginning instructions.

Madalena stood perfectly still, feeling the edges of the office before she allowed herself to cross into it. Her moves were sharp and calculated, wasting no time on pretending to be shy. She was not. She was only here because her sister had insisted she speak to someone, and this person seemed to be the least worst that the 'verse had to offer.

That alone should have been warning enough.

Her gaze moved first, slow and precise, cataloguing exits, angles, distances, the placement of furniture. The absence of surveillance did not reassure her, as that never meant it really was absent… it simply meant the surveillance was clever.

She did not acknowledge the invitation to sit, opting instead to remain standing. The dark red dress clung to every curve of the Amazonian woman, almost skin tight, though no weapons bulged from the gentle textile. Her attention lingered on the tray, the chairs, the deliberate softness of the lighting. A manufactured sanctuary. At least his presentation wasn't horrible.

Only then did her glowing green eyes settle fully on Tannor Grene .

Madalena smirked, and said nothing.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor’s posture remained neutral; almost relaxed as he observed her survey of the room. He noted the precision in her movements, the deliberate weighting of angles and distances. A quiet acknowledgment; not judgment, not alarm or passed through him. “Impressive assessment,” he said softly, voice steady. “Most people don’t notice the absence until it’s too late.” He allowed a pause, his eyes meeting hers directly, holding that gaze without pressure. “You may remain standing if it suits you. Comfort is optional in my office. Curiosity, however…” He let the sentence trail slightly, inviting but not demanding. “…curiosity is mandatory.”

A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of his head. “I would like to hear whatever brought you here. But only when you are ready.” Then, almost as if to tease the edges of her scrutiny, he added, voice quiet but deliberate, “I warn you, I’m not so easy to read. But I do listen.”

Tag: Madalena deWinter

 

[Madalena deWinter]

Madalena let the silence stretch, her gaze still focusing on the man before her. Salt and pepper hair, a 5 o'clock shadow, and blue eyes that would make too many women with severe daddy issues melt before he'd say a word. His self-presentation was probably intentional, making himself seem inviting and easy to trust. That just made her trust him less.

At last, she moved, taking a slow step forward towards the window projection, studying the artificial skyline. Her fingers brushed along the back of the chair, but she didn't really commit to it.

"Hmm…" she made the sound before turning around, her glowing eyes looking at him again. He had challenged the curiosity aspect of her visit. Did he believe that was why she was still there? She hadn't even been the one to set the appointment, so she wasn't sure if her sister had taken the liberty of answering questions in her stead when she did.

Now she sat, choosing to make herself comfortable in the chair. One leg crossed the other, and her smirk became more of a smile.

She tilted her head ever so slightly.

Her voice was like good wine, deep and powerful at the edges. "What is the first thing you decided about me before I spoke?"

---

Tannor Grene

 

[Tannor Grene]

He regarded her quietly, letting the silence stretch just long enough for her to wonder what passed behind his calm exterior. His gaze was steady, attentive… but not intrusive.

"The first thing I noticed…" His words came deliberately, each syllable measured, "…was that you observe more than you reveal. Even when still, you are measuring… questioning… considering. It tells me you are accustomed to being seen, yet cautious about what you allow others to know."

He allowed a brief pause, letting the observation settle. Then, in the same steady tone, "Curiosity brought you here, yes… but curiosity tempered with caution. That is the aspect of you I could not help but notice first."

Tag: Madalena deWinter

 

[Madalena deWinter]

Tannor Grene

---

Madalena didn't interrupt him as he spoke, didn't give any indication of a will to break the pauses or silences. Her psyche mirrored her body language; she was comfortable, and there wasn't really much that could change that. And when he finished, she still said nothing at all.

"People respond well to that, I imagine," was all the answer she could give.

It was… Disappointing. In Madalena's mind, someone who came out of a list as least worst would have more tools at his disposal, something one could not easily find in any intro book. A soft breath left her, almost a laugh, though it carried little humour..

"Accurate enough to feel personal," she continued evenly. "And broad enough to remain safe."

One finger traced slowly along the armrest, idle, unhurried.

"I was expecting you to notice something a little more… inconvenient," the faint smile returned, subtle and unreadable, "something that could not have applied to the last person who sat in this chair."

She fell quiet again, watching him, waiting to see whether he would remain within the comfort of practiced answers or risk stepping beyond them.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor did not bristle at the disappointment. If anything, it seemed to settle him further into the back of his chair. “Mm,” he hummed softly. “That is the difficulty of first impressions. If one goes too narrow, one risks arrogance. Too broad, and one risks banality.”

His gaze did not leave her hand as it traced the armrest. Not the movement itself, but the pacing of it. Unhurried. Deliberate. “You were not testing the accuracy of my observation,” he continued calmly. “You were testing my appetite.” A slight tilt of his head. “Whether I would reach for the most obvious irregularity in the room and present it as clever.”

His eyes lifted to hers then; steady, not sharp. “You hold yourself very still when you are evaluating someone. Most people fidget when they feel judged. You do not. You conserve motion. It gives you control.” A pause. Not theatrical. Measured. “And,” he added lightly, “you are accustomed to being the most perceptive person in the room. It is inconvenient when that advantage feels unchallenged.” No triumph in his tone. No smirk. “If you would prefer I begin with something less portable,” he said evenly, “we can.”

He did not lean forward. He simply waited.

Tag: Madalena deWinter