Kyril steps from the lift, looking around somewhat hesitantly. Spotting Quinn, he inclines his head and smiles. "Good day," he murmurs. "Could you direct me toward intensive care? There's someone there I'd like to visit, if such is allowed."

Quinn gestures towards the Trauma Center, "In there."

Summoning a smile, Kyril nods. "My thanks," he says. "I do appreciate it." Straightening his shoulders, the Sorter heads toward the trauma center.

You walk from the comparative quiet to the controlled frenzy of the trauma center.

You check with the head nurse and quietly enter intensive care.

Intensive care
A complex array of computers monitor patient condition in the various rooms of the Infirmary. In front of this bank of terminals are two comfortable chairs for the medics on duty. Across the screens streams a constant flow of data. While there is 'monitor help', only fully trained, professional medical personnel are permitted to utilize this facility.
Contents:
Psiosis Obvious exits:
Out

Psiosis counts softly, "350,245..." He stops as he hears someone enter the room. "Hello?"

Rapping lightly on the doorframe, Kyril pokes his head around the door and into the room. "Lawyer Ralashan?" he asks, his voice quiet. "Might I have a word with you?"

Psiosis sounds cheerful, despite the official question. "Lawyer Ralashan? Just call me Psi. And sure, even tho I'm a little tied up at the moment." He lifts his arms against the straps, showing the statement to be literal.

<look Psiosis>
Psiosis is a tower of power. Standing at 6'1", he radiates confidence and intelligence. Although he appears to be in his earlier twenties, his sparkling hazel eyes hold wisdom gained from experiences past. A ready, happy grin compliments his handsome face. Thick curly brown hair covers his head and is pulled back into a ponytail ending just between his shoulders. He has a well-toned gymnast's physique, which is accentuated by his catlike grace. Due to the symbiont, his voice is louder than normal - if he shouted, you temporarily be deafened. He's also infamous for his really bad jokes and puns. Psiosis is wearing a blue hospital gown. It is rather short, ending around just above his knees.
Psiosis appears fairly calm, having his usual humor and smiles. But something nags at the back of his mind. Psiosis has a slightly crazed look to his eyes, yet seems relatively coherent and rational. His skin is healing well and the flesh on his left hand has started to fill out.

Kyril's lips twitch in some amusement as he steps into the room, closer to the bed. "I trust," he says, "you're not in any great discomfort, Psi." After a nervous pause, the Sorter adds, "My name is Kyril Naryshkin, and I'm a Sorter for the Guild." Another pause. "I'm here to talk to you about one of your classmates."

Psiosis says good-naturedly, "Ah, Sorter Kyril, of class 2022 I believe? No, thank you for asking, I'm quite comfortable despite boredom." He frowns a little at the mention of classmates, asking with a note of concern, "Who might that be, Kyril?"

Kyril inclines his head, flashing a raffish grin. "Yes, indeed, I did come down in class 2022. A marvellous class it was too, even including old Wetpants." He chuckles for a moment, then turns serious. "The classmate I came to see you about is one of the Singers. Gyles Lee. I had the very good fortune to sort some black for him the other day. But, frankly, he worried me."

Psiosis's frown deepens, as his friend's name is mentioned, although the mention of crystal lightens it somewhat. "I'm happy he finally found some black, was having a hard time there for awhile I heard. What seems to be the problem with him?"

"Oh," Kyril says, "the blacks were lovely, you know. The most wonderfully cut forms they were, too. First time I've ever actually /sorted/ black, actually." He pauses for a reminiscent smile. "It's what I inadvertantly blurted out to him before I began sorting that has, I think, disturbed him deeply."

Psiosis prods you, saying, "And that would be what, Kyril? Must have been something indeed to distraught Gyles!"

Kyril nods, his expression solemn. "Singer Lee had, apparently, been out in the Ranges for some months. He hadn't heard of the shuttle explosion and the many lives that were lost." He sighs. "And when Singer Lee wanted to know where Tamber was, I told him."

Psiosis hmms, thinking quietly a moment. "Gyles would have to have been in the Ranges for quite a while then, not to have heard of the explosion. And," he adds with a sigh, "I haven't had the opportunity to see him for awhile. What was he acting like?"

Running a hand through his hair, Kyril sighs quietly. "Well, the man was obviously exhausted. But the news of the shuttle explosion and the casualty list stunned him. And, frankly, I believe depressed him more than he was willing to admit to a Sorter he's never met before." He gives a brief smile. "Perhaps I'm overreacting, but I'm concerned."

Psiosis says, after a moment's thought, "No, I believe your concerns are well-founded. I haven't known Gyles to act the way you're describing, as he's usually fairly level-headed. Is he in the Complex now, do you know?"

Kyril nods. "Yes, to the best of my knowledge, he is." His nose wrinkles. "He was buzzing something crazy. I hope, for his sake, that he's soaking off in a radiant tub someplace. But, Psi," the Sorter adds, "I think that perhaps right now, he needs to see friends."

Psiosis chuckles ironically, despite the gravity of the situation. "You know, I've been trying to see him for ages now, but our schedules never gelled. Now it comes to this. Kyril, perhaps you can do me a favor?"

"Perhaps," Kyril muses, "I should attempt to have a word with some of your other classmates. Have you any suggestions as to who I might approach?" He pauses then, and nods. "Certainly. What can I do for you?"

Psiosis asks, "Perhaps you could ask Gyles, either by com unit or by finding him and asking personally, if he would mind coming down here for a visit with me?

Kyril bows, flashing a grin. "I'd be more than happy to do that. Seems like now would be a wonderful time for the two of you to catch up, no?"

Psiosis chuckles. "Oh, most assuredly, we have much to catch up on. And Kyril," he says, after a pause, and with a touch of authority, "Be general, but if need be, let him know this isn't a question with a 'no' answer."

Kyril's eyes flicker momentarily toward the lawyer's regenerating hand. The smile, however, remains on his face as he nods to Psiosis. "I shall do my best, Psi, to convey your message, and let him know that he must come and visit you."

Psiosis nods the tiny bit he can, and smiles slightly. "My thanks, Kyril. For the conveyance and the information."

Kyril sweeps a courtly bow to Psiosis and flashes a grin. "I am," he says, "only too happy to be of assistance. My thanks, Psi, for hearing me out."

Psiosis chuckles a little at the extravagent politeness. "My pleasure, my dear sir. Now if you would be so kind as to fetch Gyles?"

Kyril chuckles quietly, closing one eye in a wink. "I'll do my best," he says. "Hopefully, he'll be down soon, to visit you." With another raffish grin, he ducks out of the room.

[ The sorter traces his way out of the Medical level and heads up a floor, to the Senior Singer Level on 11. ]

Amethyst Quadrant
A vibrant stripe of glittering amethyst runs down this hallway - the soothing jewel tones echoed by the rich purple carpet that muffles sounds blissfully. The stripe has a reflective quality that reminds you startlingly of sunlight off a crystal face. Several recessed doorways indicate the quarters of some singers. Obvious exits:
Lifts

To see a list of people living in this quadrant, type 'rooms'.

Jeralan's Suite - Jeralan
Vyana's Suite - Vyana
Gyles's Suite - Gyles
Telandra's Suite - Telandra
Callista's Suite - Callista

Outside Gyles's Suite, Kyril raps lightly on the door. "Singer Lee? I'm sorry to disturb you. It's Sorter Kyril Naryshkin. Might I have a moment of your time?".

>From Gyles's Suite, Gyles calls out "Huh? One moment.".

>From Gyles's Suite, Gyles calls out "It's open.".

The door slides open, and you step inside.

Gyles's Suite
The owner of this suite appears to like warm, comfortable colors. A thick carpet covers the floor, deep chestnut brown with a muted black herringbone across it. A wide couch and deep armchair covered in smooth black fabric are grouped around a low table of a gleaming mahogany material, and there are small, warmly glowing lamps on each end. To one side, near the catering unit, is a standard issue table flanked by two neat chairs with black-padded seats. Early moonlight shines through the window holo as the evening advances.
Contents:
Gyles
Obvious exits:
Bed Chamber Out

Kyril steps into the room, his eyes quickly taking in the surroundings and then moving to rest on the suite's occupant. He smiles briefly. "I do apologize for disturbing your rest, Singer Lee, and will be brief. There are two matters I'd like to bring up with you."

Gyles thumbs the door closed behind his visitor and walks back toward his couch, gesturing at the other half of it in silent invitation. "Take your time, Sorter Kyril, I don't get many visitors down here."

Inclining his head, Kyril takes a seat on the couch. He offers a brief smile. "Well, the first matter is those blues you brought in the other day. They've been retuned, but the market has changed in the mean time. Would you like me to sort them, or put them in storage?"

If you happen to be very close to Gyles, the fine hairs on your arms stand on end, but Gyles doesn't appear to notice anything.

Gyles considers a brief moment, then shrugs. "Go ahead and sort them. The storage fees would erase any benefit I might get by waiting for the market to match the shape again." He leans back against the plush arm at his end of the couch. "What else brought you? This sort of thing doesn't usually rate an in-person appearance."

Absently rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, Kyril nods. "Very well," he says, "I shall sort them for you." He takes a breath, summons a brief smile, and glances downward for a moment. "I was," he says quietly, "visiting an, er, acquaintance in the infirmary on 12. Utterly delightful young woman, with the most enchanting green eyes." He chuckles softly. "Anyway, whilst there, I chatted briefly with one of the patients in intensive care. He asked if I'd ask you to visit."

Gyles gazes at the sorter curiously. Who could he possibly know that would be in Intensive Care? He thinks a moment, ticking off names, and can't think of anyone likely to be there. Anyone still living, anyway. "Who would that be?" he finally asks.

Absently looking around the room, seemingly finding some fascination in the carpet, Kyril looks back to Gyles. "The person to whom I refer," he says, "is one of your classmates. Head Lawyer Psiosis Ralashan is in intensive care," he adds. "And he asked me if, when next I saw you, I would encourage you to visit him."

Gyles blinks. "Psiosis is in Intensive Care? What happened to put him there? Of anyone in our class, he's the last one I'd expect to get severely injured." He rises and strides across the room to his terminal. Tapping out a quick query, he shakes his head at the usual less-than-informative nature of Medical's public data. He snaps off the terminal again and slowly returns to his spot on the couch.

"To be honest," Kyril says, his voice quiet, "I'm not entirely certain. But his hand does seem to be growing skin again." He pauses for a moment. "I can imagine the restraints are a bit tiring for him. He seems quite bored, looking at the ceiling."

Hand regrowing skin? Restraints? Gyles blinks tiredly at the sorter, bearer of such interesting news. "I hope this isn't going to be a habit with you, Kyril."

Kyril smiles wryly. "I certainly hope it isn't," he says. "I'm not overfond of bringing such unwelcome news to people." He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "However, I did give Lawyer Ralashan my word that I'd convey his invitation for you to visit him. Given the man's state, I felt duty-bound to do that."

Gyles smiles wryly. Such a pompous-sounding title for 'Prime' to be wearing. "Well, I'm not going to be leaving immediately, I've the time to go down and see him before we go." The singer runs a hand through his roughly-cut hair. "Intensive care, you said," he murmurs. "That shouldn't be too hard."

Kyril raises his gaze from contemplation of the gold ring on his right hand, and nods, flashing a brief smile. "I believe," he says, "that he would be very glad for your company. And yes, he is in intensive care."

Gyles nods silently and looks up, past the sorter, to the holographic window on the wall behind him, ad the image of the twin moons passing through it. After a moment he turns his gaze back to his visitor. "Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

Kyril is quiet for a time, fingering the gold signet ring. "No," he responds finally, "there's nothing else. I do thank you, Singer Lee, for taking the time to listen. I think your classmate needs a friend right now. He'll be glad for a visit."

Gyles nods thoughtfully. "Thank you for letting me know. I would not have heard, otherwise. We haven't kept in close contact since he started all that offworld travel a few years ago."

Kyril slowly rises to his feet, nodding gravely to Gyles. "I am," he murmurs, "only too happy to be of service." He smiles. "And I understand that friends sometimes lose touch. There're times, however, when friends can meet up again. I think this is one of them." With another smile and a wave, the Sorter departs.

You step out into the hallway.