houseofcards_rp | [ota] physical therapy for five hundred, please

He had the exercises memorized, not that it made him happier. There was, it seemed, a reluctance to let him work through them alone though. As if he might somehow fall and hurt himself if the twos were out of sight for too long. And it was only with stubborn restraint that Victor held back yelling.

That and the idea that when he was down his own twos would have good news to report to him. New cameras- installed in the early hours of the morning and finally up and running. The monitors in the room across from his office displayed ever face that passed through the great hall- the large servers recording them. Or, at least, they were supposed to be. Technical errors had a habit of popping up on the team- which they simply stammered out excuses for.

But working cameras that he could look at from his office (thanks to closed circuit wires that tapped in to the control room and split a feed to his desk) was enough to please him for now. It was a start, at least.

Just like barely putting much weight on his leg as he did this therapy was a start to walking again. And hopefully sooner than later.

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Maeve can kill two birds with one stone; get in her daily workout and report to her Ten about the security installments. She'll set up her mat not far from him, nodding briefly. "Sir."

Victor glanced at Maeve for a moment, holding his weight on a set of handrails as he attempted to put small amounts of weight on his leg. For a moment, he didn't say anything, focusing on not falling before he glanced at her again....for a moment.

"I don't suppose you've run the gaggle of twos away?" You'd think as a Ten they'd listen more to him when he said leave, than their apparent duty to make sure he didn't hurt himself more.

The corner of her lip twitched, her version of a smile. "They tend to scatter whenever I come around. I don't think they're very comfortable around me."

A habit she'd noticed in some of younger cards, her profession of dealing with death on a day-to-day basis putting a dent in their illusion of youthful immortality. "Out of the cast, I see. Any bumps in your recovery, sir?"

He shrugged a little, before pausing in his movements. "Bumps? None thus far." Or so he hoped. And he hoped it would stay that way. But in his world, there seemed to be little promise to it staying that way.

"Did you ever find the source of that mysterious ailment that plagued out twos?"

"Unfortunately no, sir. By the time I'd gotten to examine the subjects, they were already heading on the mend." A mild annoyance, since it left her with an unanswered question, but the question was put in a file in her mind - ready to be pulled out when and if it was needed again.

"How have you been settling into your new position?"

"Regrettable." He said after a moment, tilting his head slightly. It did leave a curious question, though. It was just, now, a matter of finding the right question to ask- and the right person to ask.

"Being Head of Security isn't so hard," he said after a moment, "I don't believe there have been any issues thus far."

"May I state that I'm pleased I don't rank high enough, nor am the right gender to have incurred my wardrobe being pilfered?"

[ota] physical therapy for five hundred, please

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