workthroughit | Walk-Ins Welcome [For Viatorus]

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Walk-Ins Welcome [For Viatorus]

An address can be a tricky thing in a place like the Nexus, with the commotion of doors coming and going (quite literally) and physical landmarks not always where you saw them last. The commercial district at least seems to keep a little more concrete than other regions, and that's where the business card said to go. Though it might still take some doing to locate this particular practice. Viatorus likely may find himself walking past a pharmacy and a glassware shop twice or thrice before the next pass reveals the office to be between the two, plain as day but somehow overlooked until this very moment. Almost as if this location didn't care to reveal itself until it chose to.

Inside, there is no foyer or waiting room. It opens immediately into a handsomely furnished office. A record player next to a wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves softly emits classical piano music. Other features include high-back leather chairs, dark-stained wooden filing cabinets and the faint smell of vanilla tea. The place is warmly lit by large picture windows opposite of the entrance door allowing in afternoon sunlight. Regardless of what time it was when Viatorus decided to drop by, and disregarding the fact the windows from the outside should face a brick wall.

To Viatorus' right, there is a polished oak desk. Along with a green banker's light, a selection of fountain pens, framed photos and a small black stone statue of a panther, there is a name plate set in embossed silver: DR A.J. HILL.

There is a chair waiting in front of this desk. It looks comfortable enough.

Though the doctor himself does not seem to be present at this moment, maybe taking a seat while one waits for his return isn't so bad. Going on the state of the place, he must not be far.

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The odd movement of the Nexus isn't the most difficult part for Viatorus to deal with. He's patient enough not to mind going back and forth, and the shifting nature of the multiverse is not unlike a dreamscape. It's one of the many lures of this place, and the reason he's not too baffled by the sudden appearance of the office, or its impossible details.

Expecting a waiting room, he doesn't knock and immediately wishes he had. What if there had been a session going on? He'll have to make a note of this in case he needs to return. Finding the room without its owner, Viatorus walks to the desk, matches the name on the embossed plate with the name on the card, and tucks the latter away in his pocket.

Since he is apparently alone, he takes the opportunity to admire his surroundings. They're of a familiar style with the dark woods and leather chairs... For a moment, he almost forgot why he was here. Focusing himself, he endeavours not to let himself get distracted and takes the seat in front of the desk, folding his hands together and sitting on the edge of the cushion, habitually anxious.

Shortly after he takes his seat, there is another sound in the room with him; a gentle clinking of metal against china. And that's not all, as looking for the source of the sound will revel it's coming from the doctor himself as he stirs a cup of tea. The man stands at the windows, looking out over whatever view such an unlikely placement affords him.

Moments later, he looks over his shoulder and casually crosses the room towards his desk and new patient.

"Welcome! Welcome, Mr. Durant. How good of you to come." Once the teacup and saucer is set down on the desk, he offers the boy a handshake. The man speaks with a distinct northern european accent. "What may I do for you this fine day, young sir?"

The sound catches his attention and nearly makes him jump in his seat but when he turns to see what it is, he has to do a double take. He fully expects his environment, the buildings, to act according to dream logic, but not the people. Puzzlement is plastered across his face as he watches the doctor approach and it takes him a moment longer than it should to shake the man's hand.

"I... I was wondering if I could consult with you on a matter..." He leans forward slightly, looking equal parts apologetic and confused. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"A consultation? Absolutely! I'm always happy to assist with insight." He moves around to the other side of the desk to take his own seat, pulling it inwards as he gets settled.

"I'm guessing you found one of my cards in the forum? Or were you referred by another patient? If that is the case, you don't have to name names. I simply wish to know for my own point of reference." He either didn't hear the question about them having met in the past, or Dr. Hill is choosing to ignore it.

The enthusiasm can only be a good sign. Viatorus chooses to focus on that instead of how the doctor knows his name. He sits a little straighter, though still on the edge of his seat.

"I found one of your cards, yes. I wanted to find a psychiatrist in the Nexus to talk to. I don't think the ones in my world would understand how... how strange things can be here." It wouldn't do if he went to someone and spent all his time explaining the Nexus to them. They'd probably put him on medication.

"Everything we talk about will be confidential, won't it?"

"So I take it whatever this consultation entails, it has to do in some way with the Nexus itself? I assure you, there are few doctors better equipped to understand the stranger workings of such a place than myself." Now that he's properly in his seat, Dr. Hill takes up the teacup again, stirring it once more. The sound of the spoon plays a gentle off-tempo to the classical music coming from the record player.

"Completely and totally confidential, Mr. Durant," he reassures before taking a testing sip of his drink. "I operate in compliance with HIPAA, PHIPA and the privacy protection laws of any and all European countries. Though I'm not sure if any of those apply to the Nexus themselves, haha."

Viatorus offers a watery smile and nods. It would be larger except for his inability to relax. "As long as they apply to you. It would be the same as I'd be given back home, a-and that's all I can ask for, really."

With the bonus of not getting locked up for babbling about the Nexus, of course.

"It's about someone in the Nexus. I... I'm a dreamwalker. Which means I can go into other people's dreams. When I dreamwalk, I can get a lot of answers from the way things feel or act, a-and I can help the dreamers find their own answers. O-Only, I'm not a psychologist or anything like that. There are some things that I... I don't fully understand."

"Anything and everything you share here will be kept between us, barring any incidents of law-breaking and/or concrete concern for harm of self or others," he elaborates, just to hopefully put Viatorus a little more at ease. He sees the anxiousness plainly but perhaps declines commenting on it outright. At least just yet.

"Ah, so you're asking for a friend? If I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I would have quite the tidy sum! Hahah..." The doctor laughs dryly before raising his eyebrows. "But all joking aside, please continue. Is this...regarding a specific case with your dreamwalking, or wishing for a psychoanalytical reference in general?"

He hesitates, wondering momentarily whether he should explain how it couldn't be asking for himself because he doesn't dream. But the idea of moving the subject onto himself is extremely unappealing, so he stays focused.

"Uh, a-a particular case with my dreamwalking. I went into the dream of a dreamer who doesn't recall their dreams. What I found was a memory, or an attempted reconstruction of a memory." His brow twitches, moving in and out of a frown with his eyes as they flicker, bringing back the details. "It was me, and the dreamer. And then... then three other figures came into the dream. They... They weren't just figures, they were... they were real. They were beings, entities. They could... They could change the dreamer's dream. They subdued his avatar so easily."

Dr. Hill listens with interest, lips pursed and eyebrows still raised. As the description goes on, however, that expression changes to one of vague amusement. By the end of it, he can't help a genuine laugh.

"Oh, do excuse me. But this is something I am intimately familiar with in various ways. I had another patient who vividly suffered from the exact same thing, once upon a time. Or at least something very similiar. A profound case of déjá vu for myself, if you will."

He sets down his teacup once more as he leans forward in his seat, elbows resting on his desk. "All the more reason you coming to me being quite fortunate, wouldn't you say? Now! In the case I had scene previously that was similiar to this, the patient was being tormented by...let's say, better reasoning. A shred of himself calling out for recognition, to be heeded and obeyed. Something that the patient, or 'dreamer' as you put it, was ignoring in favour of his own perhaps misled plans. Does this sound familiar or accurate, Mr. Durant?"

The laughter is the last thing he'd expected, except perhaps in mockery, so his first reaction is withdrawal, the second is to relax as the doctor explains. He doesn't entirely trust the doctor has encountered the same thing, or understood it as he does. But then, he never trusts anyone else with dreams. No one else seems to understand them.

He struggles a little with the suggestion, brow dipping in and out of a small frown. "But there were three entities and the dreamer. And they were very distinct. I wouldn't call them shreds of anything. But you're... you're suggesting they're a part of him? Would they... maybe be some sort of split personality?"

"There could be a broad range of reasons why one's dream would attempt to manifest such entities. Do you have any idea if these are recurring dreams? Repeated attempts to recall something important?"

The record player seems to have reached the end of its song and there's just a soft hiss. Dr. Hill pushes himself up from his seat again to cross the room and set the needle back at the start.

"In more conventional psychological parlance, Mr. Durant, an intruder present in a dream usually indicates the dreamer being someone who values privacy. Perhaps recently experiencing a breach of that very thing, or feeling that people are getting too close to their personal spaces. Would this sound anything like your dreamer?"

With the record playing again, he glances over his shoulder back towards Viatorus. "Oh, and by all means, help yourself." Should Viatorus look back towards the desk, there's a second teacup now resting in front of the young man.

"I think so. I'm not sure if it's the same dream, but I know the entities are trying to remind him of... something. An important event, I think. Of them."

"I... uh..." He stammers as he tries to work through his answer. He doesn't feel as if he can be certain of his answer. Perhaps he should have gotten to know Naugus better before coming here. Though the mage is possibly the person he's spent the most time with in the Nexus, second to Verity, of course.

The tea distracts him like a ball distracts a dog. "Oh! Thank you." He takes the cup, lifts it enough so that he can enjoy the aroma, and then lowers it so that he can focus on his reply. "He is private. I... I don't know if he feels like he's had less privacy, if he feels like he's losing it. But... there are things he knows he doesn't remember. Things he doesn't care about remembering. But... that's what the entities want."

With the record player put back to rights, the doctor returns to his seat. He seems quietly amused that Viatorus both takes to the tea quickly and without question.

"An amnesiac? That's always an interesting element to add to most cases. You know, most films prefer to show a loss of memory being caused by a blow to the head, but in reality? It is usually a case of suppression. The patient does not want to recall what they have lost, either because of it being troublesome or traumatic.

"And in the case I spoke of earlier, trauma was indeed the source of what caused the young man to have his episodes. To begin manifesting figments that were insisting he deviate from his selfish and misled paths. Hallucinations in his case. But one could make the case they aren't much different from the dreams you have while asleep, couldn't they?"

For all his dreamwalking and reading up on planeswalking, he's never gotten himself into trouble by eating or drinking anything yet. It's not as engrained in him to refuse food or drink yet. Besides, it tea.

Viatorus nods in agreement. "Dreams are the psyche's way of trying to communicate with you. To try and resolve things. But. My concern is, the entities I saw appeared harmful to the dreamer. Derogatory. Cruel. When I spoke to them, they wanted me to remind him, but... I'm concerned that if I do I might hurt him. It's... it's not my right to remind him anyway. I-It might cause some sort of psychotic break, mightn't it?"

It's hard to not trust tea.

"Sometimes, one must be cruel to get their message across. Are you certain they acted out of malice? Or was it urgency? A desperate attempt to get their message across before something unpleasant befell the patient? Excuse me, the dreamer."

Dr. Hill takes a sip of his own tea before adding, "Or do you think this is a matter of the supernatural?"

"I don't think it's entirely mundane. I saw one of them once, outside the dream, when I was out of my body. They were sticking close to him, but they were outside his dream. And I definitely don't think they're benevolent. Nothing they said suggested they liked the dreamer at all. In fact, they seemed to hate him."

This gives the doctor reason to pause and mull things over for a time, tapping a fingernail on the polished surface of his desk as he thinks.

"While it may seem unprofessional on my part," he eventually begins, "I have seen things that do not rule out the existence of forces beyond our understanding. I will always gladly try to determine a more benign and worldly source to issues, but I also do not consider it outside the realm of possibility.

"Fragments. Figments. Sometimes our very own inner workings, our turmoil or emotions, will give birth to things of this nature. There is a reason most stories about ghosts include them having unfinished business or vendettas, after all. And things like this that cling to a single person, well.

"Your dreamer may have some very questionable skeletons in his closet."

"You're right. I know more about the supernatural than the psychological. But something like this... is a bit of both, I think. My concern, more than anything else, is..." He gathers himself, readies himself, before he meets the doctor's gaze.

"What... what will happen if I tell the dreamer what I saw? If these are external beings and they want him to remember, but they are malevolent, should I not ignore them? But if they are a part of him, isn't it what part of him wants? Is it my right to keep this from him in the first place? And... And if this involves a trauma that I force him to relive, what should I do? What if it forces him to confront split personalities or... or a fractured soul?"

Again, the doctor has to think a moment on the question posed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over a crossed knee. A half a minute passes before he finally speaks again.

"My personal thoughts are different from my professional ones, so I will defer to them for the moment. Professionally, psychologically, I feel this patient, this dreamer, is likely facing something unresolved. Either on his part, or on the part of his figments, who could very well be speaking on his unconscious behalf. The presence of amnesia continues to concern me as well. There could be years and years of forgotten acts, friends, foes and family. Any one of these could be a factor in the appeal for him to remember.

"And remember what? Did they ever clarify what needed to be recalled?"

"Them. His forgotten past. They... They said they were trapped there, but... but that could still mean that they're memories, couldn't it? They... They wanted to... I think he... he beat them to accomplishing something and they want to be recognised. I'm not certain."

"So they could be the part of his own mind that is crying for him to perhaps remember a forgotten accomplishment or injustice. Something he avoids for reasons that are his own. I wouldn't care to speculate on those motives, as I have not spoken with or analyzed the patient firsthand."

Dr. Hill gets up from his seat and begins to lazily pace the study, still in thought.

"What would you think if the figments were indeed given what they wanted, and you told the dreamer about the beings you saw? What if, even though the outcome may be unpleasant, it is fair? If these are ghosts of people he's wronged or just the memories of them, don't you think they deserve to have their voices heard? That the dreamer equally deserves to face his past and the skeletons he left forgotten there?"

Before he's even spoken, Viatorus shifts uncomfortably in his seat and takes a sip of tea. Assuming the worst in people has never been something he enjoyed, or that came easily to him.

"Maybe. They didn't seem very nice," he reminds the doctor. "What if he's not the same person as he was when he wronged them? What if the Amnesia gave him a better, happier life? If I remind him, I might ruin it for him."

"A life lived in delusion is a life wasted. It is a home built from matchsticks. Someone who does not care about things they've forgotten is an anomaly. It's like losing portions of ourselves. Good or bad, boring or eventful, a loss of your past is like loss of a limb. You are not you without the whole of your experiences.

"I find the patient insisting he cares little for his lost memories cause for alarm. That is not something you would hear except in the case of someone who is repressing trauma or has a generally unpleasant past. And then on the other side, his dreams are clamouring for him to remember! And yet you're uncertain if you should proceed?"

The doctor is now standing behind Viatorus' chair, placing a hand on the backrest. He was pacing behind his desk just a moment ago. Was he that quick and quiet, or...

"Why is that?"

Sipping tea is not a distraction that gives anyone enough time to circle around that fast! Or maybe it does, since that seems to be what happened.

The doctor has a point, he thinks, about being concerned about Naugus' apathy towards his past. Didn't he have the same reaction? But the doctor has a question for him before he can ask more of his own, and the sudden appearance startles him just enough to inch him out of his comfort zone.

"N-Not everything i-in dreams are nice. I don't want to be... to be a tool for malevolent beings to hurt people with."

"No. But the things you've presented to me today make me feel that this reminder, this reunion, will likely have to happen one way or another. What are the alternatives? Cover your eyes and pretend you never saw what you did? There are beings trying to reach out to someone they are tethered to. And though they may seem cruel or hateful, sometimes the frustration of not being heard is enough to let it fester into that. Sometimes it is the only way to reach the patient.

"What he does with the information will not be on you. He sent you into his dreams, didn't he? He wanted to see what you found and what you found appears to be significant."

Viatorus frowns and twists in his seat to look at the doctor. "What if he does something bad? If he hurts himself, o-or someone else... it won't be my actions, but I still caused it. I was still a catalyst. That makes me partly responsible."

"What a patient does with a revelation isn't on you. Both our jobs are to discern what is beneath the surface, to make sense of their inner workings. And it is our duty to convey our discoveries and interpretations.

"If you feel uncertain about that, perhaps you will need to think on what you plan to do with your talent going forward."

Viatorus turns back to his tea sharply at that. The cup is nice... and that's a thought for distraction. His hesitation isn't particularly selfless and he knows that. "He's close to people I care about. Whatever happens... I can't let them get hurt. By him or his past."

With a sigh, he sets the tea down on the desk. "If I tell him... There must be something I can do to control the outcome a little bit. To reduce the risk of a... a volatile reaction."

"Perhaps there are contingencies to plan. Ensure there are failsafes should something violent arise. The very nature of the Nexus facilitates that, doesn't it? The anti-violence measures that are always in place would prevent any acting out. Keep the patient here and the issue should at least be partially contained."

Dr. Hill moves to lean against his desk, arms crossed.

"Or perhaps you should consider another consultation with these dream entities?"

"I was thinking of talking to them again," he admits quietly, though he's not sure how well that might go. "I don't know what answers I'd be looking for. Or what they wouldn't say to get what they wanted. I'm worried... I'm worried I'll say something wrong. To the dreamer. To the entities."

"Life is fraught with possibilities, Mr. Durant. And risks. Every step forward presents more doors, more choices. But you must act, one way or another. To be paralyzed by these choices by simply staying in one place, worrying over what could go wrong with every action; it's not good for you. It's not good for anyone."

The doctor reaches to take up his own teacup again.

"I will gladly help you consider each of your options, to help you decide which is the one you would care to pursue. But every step cannot be agonized over and have every bad outcome imagined. Well, that is to say, it certainly can be done, but it robs you of valuable time. You must learn to be decisive, Mr. Durant."

He's quiet as he listens, brow knotted in concern. As is the trend, the doctor speaks sense, but... "What happens if I make the wrong decision? If my mistakes are irreparable?"

Dr. Hill chuckles lightly before taking another sip of tea.

"What else is there to do but continue forward? You can't change the past. But you also cannot live in fear of making it. Few things are beyond repair entirely. Why, again, you have the whole of the Nexus at your disposal! So many people, wonders, places and things beyond imagination! The entire place is constructed to seek help in new ways and with new people.

"Now. What do you think you should do?"

Viatorus goes quiet once more, eyes flickering along with his thoughts. When he does speak, he's slow, thoughtful. "Try to talk to the entities again. Make sure my friends are safe. Tell the dreamer what I saw and... wait, watch. Try to adapt to whatever happens. I... I don't know what else I should do."

"I think!" He claps a hand onto Viatorus' shoulder. "This sounds like like the perfect plan." This is followed by an encouraging smile.

"I believe disclosing the situation to your dreamer is very important as well. Because one way or another, he has a right to know. It would be like keeping a diagnosis secret simply because you think the patient will become violent or upset. It is not about you. The only part that is is finding your resolve."

He's not so sure, but the encouragement helps, getting a small smile from him. The scholar ducks his head and nods, staring at his fidgety hands. "You're right, of course. About all of it. Whatever is going on, I need to tell him what I know."

Viatorus looks up at the doctor again. "Thank you, doctor Hill. You've been very helpful."

"Thank you, Mr. Durant! I'm more than happy to help. And you know where my office is. Should you need any insight or advice in the future, I'll be right here."

A grandfather clock against the southern wall chimes once, prompting the doctor to look in its direction. "Perfect timing as well. I have another patient due to arrive. But please. Any time you need a little clarity or advice, I'm happy to have you drop by. Maybe even refer some friends who you think could use the same? Getting a practice up and running in the Nexus relies heavily on word of mouth, I've found."

Between the chiming clock and the mention of another patient, there's plenty of prompt for Viatorus to stand. He offers his hand to shake and nods. "Of course I will. Whatever I can do to help. Do you need the address of my office to send a bill to?"

He takes the hand and shakes it readily. His palm is warm and dry. "Oh, no charge, Mr. Durant. I'm happy to do consultations without a fee. And I feel this was more a meeting of two professionals than anything. Perhaps there will be a time I will call on you in return for matters pertaining to dreams? Haha."

"I'd be happy to return the favour." Viatorus' hands are a touch on the clammy side, but his grasp is weak and the shake kept short. "Good luck, doctor Hill."

And with that he'll take his leave.

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Walk-Ins Welcome [For Viatorus]

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that moment when you realize your alt is being consulted about your main

I hadn't realised until your OOC post... And then forgot.

This all lines up beautifully

Wonderful! ^^

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