Private Penciled In

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor’s gaze didn’t waver, but his voice softened just enough to draw attention.

“You insist that I am a droid,” he said quietly, “and you speak of it as if it absolves you from risk… from connection… from the possibility of being hurt.”

He leaned back slightly, letting the observation settle between them. “Tell me, Braze… why is it so important to you that I must be a droid?” A pause, deliberate, letting Braze wrestle with the question. “Is it because the idea of opening yourself to another human - someone who can care, and can be wrong, and can… fail you - feels too dangerous?”

Tannor’s expression remained composed, neutral. “You describe love, sacrifice, fear, and intent… and yet, you need me to be incapable of all of that. A reflection… a program… a thing without risk or desire. Is it easier to trust a droid than a person?” Another beat. “Perhaps it’s not about me at all, Braze. Perhaps it’s about what you’re willing or not willing to risk for connection.”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

"I mean… I've opened up quite a bit, but you keep circling around and turning assumptions into declarations with pure unabashed assuredness. A real person would just… understand rather clearly that what I'm expressing, what I'm actually asking for, is genuine connection. And that isn't what's being given here.

You just don't understand. So far, nothing you've said suggests that you can understand any of that, or make that kind of connection. People are complex. We're social creatures. We need real connection with others. You don't answer the questions I pose because you just can't."

His tone remained even and light.

"You can mimic patterns remarkably well from your data pool. You can approximate the sound of humanity. You can replicate a version of it through personification. But you can't inhabit it."

He explained briefly pausing, "You are completely unqualified to counsel or assist in the resolution of ethical or moral questions. That's the crux of the issue here. I don't need you to be a droid. You just seem determined to act like one. I'm not interested in debating that."
Braze didn't look away from him as he spoke keeping a steady gaze.

"I'm trying to reach you… to make a connection. But it seems you're incapable. Right now, you're dressing up what I've already said and handing it back to me like it's new. Stop reframing me, and engage with me."

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor’s expression softened; a faint shadow of a rueful smile appearing. “You’re right, Braze,” he said, voice low, almost conspiratorial. “One of my… shortcomings, I suppose, is that I don’t always allow myself to connect fully with my patients. Not because I don’t want to, but because… the line between doctor and patient matters. And once that line blurs, it can complicate everything.”

He moved deliberately, getting up from his chair and moving towards a small table. He reached for a small decanter and two glasses. The amber liquid caught the light as he poured the brandy into each glass. “Perhaps we’ve been circling because I’ve been approaching this… incorrectly. Let’s begin again, differently. No analysis, no reflection, no debate. Just… conversation.”

Tannor lifted each glass in hand and returned to him, pausing just before his chair. He offered a glass toward Braze, holding his gaze steady. “I’ll listen. You’ll speak. And if you’re willing, we’ll share a drink as equals for a moment. No pretense. Just us.”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

Braze was quiet for a time, listening to him speak, and remained silent for what may have felt painfully long…

"I agree… there should be some form of professional doctor patient relationship." He rested back, looking relaxed once more as he shifted his anchor points.

Braze turned those jade green eyes toward the amber glass before slowly lifting them back to Tannor's face. "…" He made no motion to reach for the glass, leaving it where it was, seemingly disinclined to partake of the beverage. One snowy brow lifted after a few silent moments of unspoken consideration.

"I would think that… a genuine connection between people is necessary for this kind of thing to work. I can't readily trust you if I don't have a genuine connection with you. One would think trust is pinnacle to therapy…"

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor lowered the glass onto the small table, keeping hold of his own before settling back into the chair with an ease that felt practiced rather than performative. He took a slow sip before speaking. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “Trust is central.” His fingers rested loosely around the crystal. “There was a time when I didn’t trust anyone either.” His gaze drifted for only a moment; not away from Braze, but inward. “I aligned myself with a politician I believed was principled. I stood beside him. Publicly. I believed what he said.” A small pause was given as the memories returned to him. “He changed allegiances when it became advantageous. Reversed every position. I learned about it through a public broadcast.” His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “The fallout was not abstract.”

He shifted slightly in his chair. Not enough to expose anything, but enough to imply the memory lived somewhere beneath fabric and skin. “I carry scars from that period. Physical ones.” There was no embellishment. No real story attached. “And for a long time, I carried the others more visibly than I realized.”

His gaze returned fully to Braze, steady and unguarded in a different way now. “I withdrew. Became precise and careful. I told myself it was wisdom.” A faint breath released. “It was fear. I had to decide whether betrayal meant connection was foolish… or whether it meant I had misjudged character.” He paused for a quiet beat. “I chose to relearn how to assess consistency instead of intensity.”

His expression softened just slightly. “So when you say you need something genuine in order to trust me… I understand that instinct.” Another small pause. “I am not untouched by consequence, Braze. I am not theoretical.” He rested the glass down gently. “But therapy is not built on me proving my wounds to you. It is built on me showing up the same way, each time. I’m not asking you to trust me blindly. I’m asking you to observe me. Over time."

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene​

Braze remained quiet for a long stretch after Tannor finished speaking, the silence was deafening...

"Politicians…" he muttered, the word laced with clear disdain. "Never been fond of them. Any of them. They always seem to wear whatever face gets them what they want in the moment. Sounds like yours just proved the point."

He leaned forward slightly and reached for the glass of brandy on the small table. His slender fingers closed around it, and he gave the amber liquid a slow swirl, watching the way it caught the light. He brought it closer, took a cautious sniff… and immediately made a face, nose wrinkling in clear distaste.

Braze wasn't one for alcohol. His few limited experiences with the stuff had always felt strange... bitter, burning, and oddly disconnected from anything pleasant. Still, after another brief hesitation, he took a small sip as a deliberate sign of good faith. The taste made him grimace again, but he didn't set the glass down right away.

He stared into the liquid for a moment before speaking again his voice softer than before...

"…I know I make this difficult," he admitted, jade-green eyes lifting to meet Tannor's. "I'm always waiting for the moment someone proves they'll disappear or change on me. Part of me knows that's not entirely fair to the other person. But the rest of me…" He trailed off, swirling the glass once more.

"The rest of me is tired of being wrong about who I can actually count on... There's precious few people I can trust in this universe... and Trust is just a luxurious commodity I just can't afford to give out blindly with the sensitive things...

It's exceptionally difficult for me to trust some one I don't understand or know... It's hard for me to trust those close to me... and you're still a stranger... So how am I supposed to do this? If we're doing the 'observe over time' thing… I guess I'm willing to try. But I still think you holding back too much is going to make this harder than it needs to be."

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor listened without interruption. Not just to the words; but to the spaces in between them. To the hesitation, and to the effort that it took to say them at all.

When Braze finished, Tannor did not respond immediately. He allowed the silence to settle; not as pressure, but as acknowledgment. “You’re not making this difficult,” he said at last, his voice both calm and even. “You’re being honest about the conditions under which trust has failed you.” His gaze remained steady and attentive without intrusion. “And that matters.”

A brief pause followed that was measured. Not searching for words, but choosing them with care. “And you’re right about something else,” he continued. “I am holding things back.” There was no defensiveness in the admission. No attempt to soften it. “That isn’t distance for it's own sake. And it isn’t a lack of respect for what you’re offering here.” His tone remained level, but there was a quiet firmness beneath it now. “It’s structure. It’s what keeps this space from becoming something that ultimately harms you instead of helping you.” He let that sit for a moment. “If I start meeting you with equal disclosure - matching experience for experience - it stops being about you. It becomes reciprocal. And reciprocal relationships come with expectations, attachments, and obligations that don’t belong in this room.” Tannor made a slight shift in posture, subtle but intentional in the way that it was both grounded and present.“You deserve a space where you are not managing someone else’s responses. Where you are not calculating what to give in order to receive.” His eyes held Braze’s, unwavering but not unkind. “That is what I’m protecting when I hold that line.”

His words then softened. Not in meaning, but in delivery. “That said you’re also right that trust doesn’t form in a vacuum. So here is what I can offer you.” His hands settled loosely, open, unguarded in posture if not in history. “Consistency, transparency in process, and honesty when it serves your understanding - not my relief.” He paused for a beat. “You don’t have to trust me yet. But you’ve already done the harder thing.” His gaze flicked briefly to the brandy, and then back again. “You stayed. You spoke plainly. You’re trying. And that’s where this starts.”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

"I'm not used to spaces where I don't have to manage the other person… How often are we supposed to do this? What am I supposed to do while I'm here?"

He took another sip of the brandy and winced, blinking, white eyelashes fluttering before setting the glass aside with a soft sigh. Then he shifted in his seat and settled again.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor’s gaze dipped briefly to the glass as Braze set it aside, the reaction noted without comment at first. Then he spoke gently, “You don’t have to drink that,” he said, his tone easy, almost matter-of-fact. “If you’d prefer something else, we can change it.” There was no weight in his words. No expectation. Just an option placed within reach.

His attention then returned to Braze fully, steady as before. “As for this -” he continued, answering the question without rushing it, “- we keep it simple.” A small pause, giving the words space to land. “Typically we meet once a week,” Tannor said. “Same time, if possible. Consistency helps. It gives your mind somewhere predictable to return to.” His posture remained relaxed, but present. It was anchored in a way that didn’t demand anything from the space around him. “And while you’re here you don’t have to perform anything.” His gaze held Braze’s, not intensely, but clearly. “You don’t need the right words. Or a finished thought. You don’t need to organize it before you say it. You can talk about your week. Something that stayed with you. Something that didn’t make sense. Or even nothing in particular at all.”

He gestured lightly between them; not to direct, but to define. “If it matters enough that it’s still with you when you sit down here, it’s enough to start with. And if it doesn’t come easily,” Tannor added, voice softening just slightly, “we can sit with that too.”

His gaze flicked once more to the abandoned glass, then back to Braze. “For now, ” a small, almost imperceptible shift in tone that was gentler and less structured. “Tell me about your week.”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

"My week…? I, uh… well… I willingly succumbed to dark thoughts and hurled myself off a mountain, which I realize is not an especially encouraging way to begin.... But how's that?"

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor did not react immediately. There was no visible shift. No alarm, no sharp intake of breath, no sudden correction in posture. If anything, he became more still, allowing the words to settle without interruption or escalation. He regarded Braze for a quiet moment, as though weighing not the statement itself, but the way it had been offered.

“Direct,” Tannor said at last. His tone remained even. Not dismissive. Not startled. Simply acknowledging. A brief pause followed. “And a little deflected,” he added gently. His gaze held Braze’s. It was not probing, nor pressing; but present in a way that did not let the moment slide past unnoticed. “You gave me the headline,” he continued, “and then softened it before it could fully land.” A faint tilt of his head. “Which tells me two things.” He did not rush to list them. “One: you’re aware of how it sounds.” A small beat. “And two: you’re not entirely sure how much of it you want me to take seriously yet.” There was no judgment in it. Only observation.

Tannor leaned back slightly, maintaining that same grounded ease. “We can work with either,” he said. “But we don’t have to decide that all at once.” A quiet breath passed, giving the space room again. “So let’s take it one step back.” His voice softened then; not in pity, but in pacing. “When you say you ‘willingly succumbed’…” he repeated, not challenging the phrasing, just returning it. “What did that look like for you?” A brief pause as he wanted to be sure of his words before he spoke them aloud. “Not the mountain,” Tannor clarified gently. “The part before it.”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

"I'm not sure what you mean… I was… stressed… Everyone was off to a rough start for something that's supposed to be the best of the best, trying their hardest to overcome a severe obstacle together, and I feel like… our team was doing a magnificently poor job of cooperating. I don't know why. It just felt like everyone wanted to rip each other's throats out over stupid stuff and talk about how great they were over someone else… maybe I'm just… over-exaggerating the emotions I felt, but I am an empath, and I get overwhelmed constantly by the emotions of others, and by my own anxiety and restless, ceaseless thoughts.

I really do just think I think way, wayyy too much about everything. And my thoughts are often lingering on bad thoughts… the kind of thoughts that get you sent to places like this if you tell anyone. I think something was trying to work against us there, but I didn't recognize it as something different… it sounded like my usual spirals… but this time I felt… compelled to do away with it all, as if somehow… if I did this, it would be better. My friends' lives would be better… the whole universe would be somehow… better without me in it." He didn't realize it but his eyes had become glassy as he started to just... word vomit his thoughts,

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor did not interrupt him. He let the words come; uneven, crowded, spilling over themselves, without stepping in to organize them too quickly. There was value in the way Braze spoke now. Not polished. Not guarded. Just….honest.

Only when the silence naturally followed did Tannor speak. “You weren’t over-exaggerating,” he said quietly. His tone was steady and certain in a way that didn’t inflate what Braze felt, but didn’t dismiss it either. “You were overwhelmed. There’s a difference.” His gaze remained on Braze, calm and anchored, offering something stable against the current of everything he had just described. “When you’re in that state,” Tannor continued, “everything intensifies. Other people’s emotions. Your own thoughts. The tension in a room. It stops being something you notice… and starts becoming something you’re inside of.” He let that settle before going further. “And when that happens,” he added, voice still even, “your mind doesn’t always distinguish between what’s yours….and what isn’t.” A brief glance was made downward as the right words came to mind, then back up. “So the frustration around you starts to feel personal. The conflict feels sharper. And your own thoughts…” A slight pause was taken before he continued, “They don’t just pass through. They stay. They repeat. They build on each other.”

His expression did not harden; but it did grow more focused. “You said something important just now,” Tannor said. “That it sounded like your usual spirals. But this time….it felt like something more.” He didn’t rush past that. “That difference matters.” Tannor leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees again, closing the distance just enough to be present without crowding him. “Because what you described - feeling like the world would be better without you - that’s not a conclusion you arrived at through careful thought.” His tone remained calm, but firmer now. “That’s a thought that attached itself to everything else you were already feeling… and made it heavier than it actually is....And convincing,” he added.

He let that word sit. “You don’t have to decide right now whether that thought was yours….or something that got louder because of everything around you,” Tannor continued. “But you do need to recognize that it wasn’t telling you the truth.” No judgment was given. Just clarity.

His gaze softened slightly; not with pity, but with understanding. “Your friends’ lives would not be better without you,” he said simply. “The universe doesn’t become improved by subtraction like that.” A small breath passed, easing the intensity just a fraction. “What happened on that mountain didn’t start there,” Tannor went on. “It started earlier; in the build-up, in the noise, in the pressure you were carrying without a way to step outside of it.” He shifted back slightly, giving Braze a little more space again. “So we don’t fix this by focusing on the edge you jumped from,” he said. “We fix it by learning how to recognize that build-up before it gets that far. And giving you something to do when it does.”

He let the room settle again, steady and grounded. “Right now,” Tannor added, voice gentler again, “you did something different.” A faint nod toward him. “You didn’t keep it in your head. You said it out loud.” He held his gaze. “That’s a better starting point than you think.”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tannor Grene
"Well... I don't feel too good about any of this and I kinda just want to go home and sleep for the next week or two.. "

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor let the words sit; not dismissing them, nor rushing past them. There was something familiar in that response. Not avoidance, exactly. But a pull toward escape. Toward quiet. Toward nothing.

“That makes sense,” he said at last. His tone remained gentle, but grounded.
“When everything builds up like that, your system looks for a way to shut it down. Sleep feels like the easiest way to do that.” A small pause. “And wanting to go home….that’s not a bad instinct either. It usually means you’re looking for somewhere that feels safer. Quieter.”
He leaned back slightly, giving Braze space while still holding the moment in place. “But disappearing for a week or two,” Tannor added, voice still calm, “wouldn’t actually give you what you’re hoping for. It might dull things for a while. But everything you described - the noise, the thoughts, the overwhelm - that would still be there when you come back. Sometimes louder.”

A brief pause as he let those words sit. “I’m not going to tell you not to rest,” he continued. “You probably do need it.” His gaze stayed steady. “But there’s a difference between resting….and checking out.” He let that distinction settle. “So instead of disappearing,” Tannor said, “we make it smaller.”

A slight shift forward. It was not pressure, but just presence. “What would actually help you feel even a little more settled tonight? Not fixed. Not better for the next two weeks. But just a little less overwhelmed than you feel right now.”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

". . . Nothing I can think of," Braze murmured softly. "Will my insurance cover this session?" he asked, perhaps trying to shift where his thoughts settled for the time being.

He knew well enough he could not just check out. Too many people depended on him, and he had far too much to do. He could not let anyone down more than he already had. It just… was not possible.

He meditated daily, multiple times, and always before rest at night. He had built routine into his life, and yet he found no solace in the myriad ways he often sought to overcome these dark and deep feelings. Instead, he often just buried them deep down and tried not to be alone with his own thoughts for too long… like turning them off, like a light switch… always telling himself he would address them later, knowing full well later would never come.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor didn’t follow the shift right away. He let the question about insurance sit where it landed - not dismissed, nor ignored - but not allowed to pull the moment entirely away from what had just been said. “We can go over the coverage before you leave,” he said calmly. “You won’t be surprised by anything. But I’m going to stay here for a moment,” he added gently. “You said there’s nothing you can think of that would help tonight.” His tone remained even, not challenging; just returning the words. “And I believe that’s how it feels.” He leaned forward slightly again, forearms resting lightly against his knees. “But ‘nothing’ usually isn’t actually nothing,” Tannor continued. “It’s what your mind says when everything feels too big to sort through.”

His gaze held Braze’s. Not pressing, but not letting him disappear behind the answer either. “So we make it smaller than that. You don’t need to solve the overwhelm,” he said. “You don’t need to fix the thoughts. And you don’t need to find something that makes you feel good. Just something that doesn’t make it worse.”

He let that distinction settle. “You mentioned you already have routines. Meditation. Structure.” A faint nod. “Those are useful. But from what you described…” his tone softened slightly, “…you’ve also gotten very good at turning things off. That works in the short term,” he went on. “It gets you through the moment. But it also means those thoughts don’t go anywhere. They just wait.”

His posture remained both relaxed and grounded. “So tonight isn’t about doing more of that. It’s about doing something different, even if it’s small.”

He didn’t rush to fill in the answer for him. “If sitting still with your thoughts makes them louder,” Tannor said, “then we don’t start there.” A quiet breath was released. “What’s something simple you can do where your mind doesn’t have to carry everything at once? Not alone with it. Not burying it. Just….giving it a little less room to take over.” He let the space open again, steady and patient. “We can figure it out together,” he added, softer now.

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

Braze shook his head and sighed almost woefully so. "I just don't know..." he murmured dejectedly. "Talking about this is just stressful..." He mewled and slumped back in to his chair.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor didn’t push. He watched the slump, the shift in Braze’s posture, the way the energy drained out of him as the weight of the conversation caught up. And instead of pulling him forward again, he eased back. “Alright,” Tannor said quietly. There was no correction. No insistence. “We can slow it down.” A small pause followed, letting that permission actually land.

“You’re right,” he added, tone steady and matter-of-fact. “Talking about this is stressful. Especially when it’s all still sitting this close to the surface.” His gaze remained on Braze, but softer now. Less directive. More grounding.

“So we don’t have to keep pushing into it right now. For the next minute or two,” Tannor continued after a brief pause, “we’re not going to figure anything out. No problem-solving. No unpacking.” A slight shift in posture was made that was both subtle and deliberate. “Just sit.” He let the word hang simply, without weight. “You’re here. You’re safe. Nothing in this room is asking anything from you right this second.” Another quiet breath passed. “If you want to talk again in a moment, we can,” he said. “If not, that’s fine too.” There was no pressure. No expectation. Then his tone softened just slightly more. “You don’t have to carry the whole week and this conversation at the same time. We’ll take one or the other. Or neither, for a bit.”

And then he fell quiet, holding the space steady instead of filling it.

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

Braze was still for a while but he drew a heavy breath and shook his head gently. " This was... an interesting start... but I think I should go home now. I have young lings I shouldn't leave alone too long. " Braze offered simply.