by SunnyJustice » Sat Mar 05, 2016 2:56 pm
Rowan Adamson had a dilemma. He had to work three jobs, just to pay off the debt he owed Apricot. He should never have made a deal with the devil. The bet was simple; if Rowan could sit through an hour of an Acacia lecture, including 'sneak previews' of her terrifying sights of future Games, he would win. After five minutes, he had run out of the room in tears. He didn't think Apricot would really make him pay for the bet, but it was Apricot. Of course she would take advantage. So now he was stuck, working as a teacher by day, a counselor at night, and a very bad doctor during those in-between periods.
Emphasis on 'very bad'. Rowan was going to cry. Due to his career, he had the healing ability Leah possessed, but he always sobbed uncontrollably when he used it.
"Get up, Rowan," Elm told him impatiently. She was sitting at the desk, writing apology letters to the patients Rowan had cried on. "And no tears this time. Cut the waterworks."
"Liberate me," Rowan pleaded, rising from his seat and wiping his eyes. He was going to die. He was going to die so hard he went back to life just to die again.
"No. Your neck is unworthy," Elm said. "Leave."
Murmuring a soft apology, Rowan shuffled out of the office. He did not look professional. He wore track pants and a baggy t-shirt, emblazoned with an 'I'm with the Idiot Alliance' logo.
"Sorry," he said, walking over to the Caraways and Tybalts. When he finally looked up and made eye contact, he was startled by the interesting state of the boys. Especially Jules, who was covered with crumbs.
"Oh dear," stammered Rowan. "This isn't good. Um, I'll get someone with more experience. I think I'm going to cry. Please don't make me do this-"
Elm opened the office door and gave him a look. "Rowan Adamson, if I hear any more of this ridiculous behavior, I am going to have a word with you in my private office."
Rowan gulped as the door slammed shut, then turned to the District Seven tributes. "I'm really sorry about that," he said uncomfortably. "I really don't like blood, you see, I..." awkwardly, he straightened his collar, then held out a hand. "Gentlemen, please give me your hands. I need, er, contact to make this work. Uh... I'm sorry."