Private Penciled In

[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: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

Braze stepped into the office with a curious glance around the room, taking in the sight of it. He listened to the faint, subtle sounds and even noted the scent the air carried here. He had chosen to wear one of the many simple black-and-white outfits he typically reserved for more casual settings.

He shut the door behind himself as he entered, finally settling that cold jade-green gaze onto Tannor Grene .

"Well, that's certainly a new kind of introduction," Braze said, a smile gracing his face. He padded closer slowly, keeping his gaze level on the man before stopping a few steps away. "Then it seems I've come to the correct office. You must be Mr. Grene, I take it?"

"I've never done anything like this before…" he mused aloud, gently shifting his weight to one foot. He brought one arm across his chest and perched his elbow there, pressing a few fingertips to the underside of his chin while he cast another brief look around the room.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Braze lowered his hands and shifted his posture once more, settling one at his hip while using the other to vaguely gesture toward the man.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor did not rise immediately when Braze entered. He observed. Not clinically. Not suspiciously. Simply taking in the measured way the man catalogued the room. The sound, scent, exits, angles; all seemed to be observed. It was a habit born somewhere. Training, perhaps. Or survival.

When Braze’s gaze settled on him, Tannor inclined his head slightly. “I am,” he confirmed evenly. “And you may call me Tannor.” His posture remained relaxed, one ankle resting loosely over the opposite knee. Unarmed. Unthreatened. Entirely at ease in his own space.

A faint hint of a smile touched his expression. “It’s not uncommon for first-time clients to want to assess the environment. Or the therapist.” His eyes held Braze’s without challenge. “You’re welcome to ask questions.” A small pause. “But understand that I may answer some with questions of my own.” Not a warning. Not a challenge. A simple truth.

He gestured lightly toward the seating area. “You can stand if that feels more comfortable. Or sit. There’s no performance required here.” His tone softened, just slightly. “You said you’ve never done anything like this before.” A beat. “What made today the day you decided to try?”

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Tannor Grene ​

"That's fine with me… I like playing the question game. And Okay Tannor it is... You can call me Braze." He chirped it lightly, turning in a small circle as his gaze skimmed the room again, collecting corners and quiet details before he dropped into a nearby chair, claiming it with an easy sprawl.

"A few simple questions," he went on, easing back, testing the seat, letting himself settle. "What made you choose this as a profession? Do you have a family? And what's your favorite food… your favorite color?" Curiosity warmed his tone.

 

[Tannor Grene]

Tannor leaned back slightly, letting the questions roll over him like stones in a stream. “I chose this profession… because I’ve always believed people need someone to listen, someone who can help them untangle the parts they can’t face alone.” He gave a faint shrug, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“My family… is small, and we’re… distant. Not much to tell there.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the corner of the room, thoughtful.

“As for favorites… food, I suppose something simple; bread and cheese.” He allowed a short pause, then added, “Color… blue. Dark, like a winter's night.” He watched Braze carefully, curiosity mirrored in his quiet attention. "Do those answers appease your curiosity?"

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tannor Grene


"Well sure, but I'd argue that bread and cheese are kinda basic and boring... now if you'd said grilled cheese or pizza I could understand. I feel that I wonder if you're just deprived of amazing food experiences with an answer like that as one of your favorites... makes me think you might secretly be a droid or humanoid replica in synth skin." Braze offered truthfully.

"But I suppose there's all kinds of fancy breads and cheeses, so there might be some hope to that answer... And blue's a pretty color... I think lots of people enjoy blue hues.... I know it's one I am often drawn to for crafting..." Braze elaborated.

Truthfully be told, Braze could just talk up a storm and go off on tangents and seemingly never get tired of yapping. He was, however, trying to remain toned down, as he was aware his method of conversation was often overwhelming to others, much in the way that his own thoughts could overwhelm him when they started to spiral out of control. Having amplitude on inner trains of thought all racing at breakneck speeds and often breaking off into new directions meant his mind was a very dizzying, hectic place to be.