Hook, Line and Shrink [Doc]

[Pyper]

- - The following transcript was a live chat roleplay - -



Pyper: Pyper had to hover the phone three inches from her ear while the dial tone purred robotically. If she didn't, it'd split her head and she might let her thoughts out again. Calling Doc, the screen showed when it was brought away to look at.

Doc: Doc's phone rang. He glanced at it, but did not recognize the number. It could be someone from the hospital, or the lab, needing more instruction. He answered the phone as he would if he were speaking to a human. "Dr. Nilson." It was abrupt and to the point, as one might suggest of a Doctor on call.

Pyper: Click. Before she could rationalize that Phoenix would never send her to doctors like the ones that imprinted themselves in her history, Pyper ended the call. The immediate disappointment made her brows wrinkle in a bemused expression. "Again," the utterance cast out the right corner of her mouth and her finger scrolled through to 'Doc.' Rrrr, rrrr, chanted the ear piece.

Doc: Doc pulled the phone from his ear as he heard the click. He looked at the screen, it was indeed disconnected. He was tucking the phone back into his jacket pocket when it rang again. He sighed and pulled the phone back out answering it tersely, "Yes." His tone was one of thinly veiled annoyance. If this was some kid playing games, he would hunt that little ****** down, gut him, and use his intestines as a bowtie.

Pyper: "What are your credentials? Do you shock people? Phoenix gave your number to me. I'm .. Ramona." She used the same alias she had prior to crossing the borders into Harper Rock. It was likely that her sire already forewarned this Doctor Nilson about her calling. Pyper didn't want to entertain taking the risk.

Doc: Doc lifted an eyebrow as a demand for his creditials came across the phone. But then the voice told him who she was, Phoenix childe. "I am surgeon, an endocrinologist." He paused, he wouldn't lie to her, but she may not like his answer, "I have shocked patients before. But not as a form of treatment.. more because it amused me to do so. However, if it is that important to you, I won't shock you, without your permission." His tone had dropped the brusquenss and was one of reluctant truth.

Pyper: A lot of people required permission to do things. The similarity between how these other vampires lived and the way the ward worked put a gnawing sensation in the pits of her stomach. Axel had asked for permission when questioned about the techniques he personally used to break individuals. Pyper was unaware - based on past experiences - that doctors needed a mutual agreement with a patient. "So there is something wrong with my endocrines, and Phoenix wants to fix them? How does she know? Did you tell her?"

Doc: Doc frowned slightly, he closed his book and set it aside. His voice because serious and businesslike. "Phoenix said you might to talk. Only talk. I have no idea the state of your glands, if they are like most of our kind. They have ceased to work in a manner that I have been trained in dealing with." A brief pause, "However, talking does not require anything to do with your glands. And talking is all Phoenix suggested."

Pyper: The sound of scratching answered Doc at first, as Pyper's fingers plucked and moved the chaotic vines of wires that circled around parts of the cell phone she was holding. Then her eyes traveled slowly to the east to watch a zombie drag its foot behind itself while it walked. She stopped fidgeting, cleared her throat, "We are talking now."

Doc: "Yes we are. Sometimes, not all the time, a person can talk to someone, knowing that whatever they say for good or bad, will never be used against them. And it helps that person to say it aloud to someone. A phone is not ideal for that sort of talking. Phone can be bugged."

Pyper: Pyper had never let an insect in her phone. It was always in her pocket, but people stole things all the time. Easy for them to find her money, so the phone wouldn't be a problem. "And there will be no shocks. Where do you talk? What are the things there? Is it a hospital?"

Doc: "No. No shocks. Shocks are not condusive to theraputic conversation. Typically if someone wants to talk with me, we do it in my office. Not a hospital. I have a desk.. a couple of plants." He paused, "Take that back.. a couple of dead plants. A bookcase, a credenza, a laptop, two chairs, a side table.. and Phoenix' cushion." He ended, then thought to ask, "Do you require a cushion?" Was it ethical to allow patients to share cushions?

Pyper: Needles were left off of his list, and it helped that they'd not meet within a nauseatingly clean-smelling medical facility. "No cushion." Using one hand to the ground, she got up and toed her way around the Corvidae Flats, ignoring her stomach and the blood pack she could have bought to search for something she could catch. Something that would run away. It some times bested the feeling she got when she stitched. "When do we talk in the office?"

Doc: No cushion. So it appears, thus far that Phoenix was the lone 'admitted' cushion cuddler. Good. "That would be up to you. As well as what we spoke about. The point of this type of conversation is to help you. Sometimes, having someone hear a problem helps you figure it out. They can offer suggestions, or ideas, that may trigger the solution. And for people with no problems, they like to talk in order to bounce ideas off someone on a trusted environment."

Pyper: "You only suggest from what you hear me say? You don't look into me? See the different things I think?" Pyper had ever come across another telepath directly but knowing that there could have been other 'ones' (a general term since she'd forgotten what people called her too many times) that would see her past and some indication of her real name made her uneasy. "If I said right now? I could come in. Briefly... " She steadied herself vocally, forced complete sentences. ".. and see the plants, and books. See the papers and certificates. Do you have them on the walls, like on the television?"

Doc: "Yes you could come now. My diploma is not in this office however. I leave it in the hospital office. Where I do surgery. And no. I will not look inside you.. unless you want me to perform surgery on you. Which I doubt."

Pyper: "I don't know where." The hand not holding the phone pried the sewer entrance cover from the pit before she jumped down. From his wording, Pyper still didn't know whether he could read her thoughts. So she thought about the blood packs and how the bags made the blood taste like plastic. "You saw the alphabeast. It attacked you."

Doc: "My office is in the back of Genesis Solutions in the Honeymead Market. Shopping mall. And yes, It did attack me. Fucked me up pretty good. But it is dead, and I am still here. So shall I expect you?"

Pyper: "I wanted to take its bones," she sounded disappointed. "Yes. I have a map, somewhere. I can find it."

Doc: "Yes.. I would have loved to have a piece of it too. I heard Olive was the one that killed it. I do not know her, but perhaps you could contact her, see if she had one and was willing to bargain?"

Pyper: "Olive. I will find her, and see if she wants the drugs I have. Roderic told me not to take it, it might make me sick. I will knock, when I get there."

Doc: "I will wait for your knock." He disconnected first. He thought she was the type that would wait for the disconnect. Possible paranoia, but then again, it could be caution. He took the books that littered his desk, and started filing them back into the bookcase. He wanted things orderly when .. if she arrived. There was a fifty percent chance she might change her mind. Many did, as they started second guessing themselves.

Pyper: With him waiting, the appeal of hunting a stray human down had to be set aside for after their talk. Phoenix would be happy, and maybe smile, to know that Pyper went. This in mind, the transit ride passed by without the nervous fluttering in her nerves. The twitch in her hands had gotten worse. So much that she couldn't hold a pen to write in her journal. Should she have brought it with her? It had things that they could talk about. Honeymead she read the rotating, overhead panel that announced each stop. With the map, the building wasn't difficult to find. Fifteen minutes, roughly estimated, and her knuckles curled and tapped against the door to what's assumed to be his office.

Doc: The knock, that sounded against the door, came much quicker than he had anticipated. A woman of her word. A nice first impression. He rose and made his way to the door and opened it. He smiled sliglhtly, it was a crooked closed mouth smile. A correction took place in his mind, a girl of her word. "You must be Ramona. Please come in." He knew her name was Piper, from what Phoenix had told him, but she wished to be Ramona, and Ramona she would be. He stepped back to allow her to enter unimpeded.

Pyper: The lines of his mouth were more subtle than the very expressive individuals that made up her lineage. Altaires were truly the only people that she knew, and most of them not well enough to be frequently social with. Doc, and Jesse (technically) were the only two she had willingly wanted to meet. Her smile never came, because her eyes began to play ping pong in their spaces to take in the objects in his office, as he had listed to her earlier. Half steps guided her inside, it was painful but after a set of five, he had enough room to shut the door. "If I lied, during the talks, how would you know?"

Doc: "I would not." His brow furrowed somewhat. "But why would it matter? Anything you say .. or I say.. is not to be repeated. That is what we.. both you and I must agree to, before we converse. A safe place to speak. So if you lie to me, and I never repeat it. Why does it matter if it is a lie?" He slowly shut the door, and then crossed to the seat he normal sat in when he spoke to Phoenix. If she wanted to peruse the room it was fine.

Pyper: "My name isn't Ramona." A test, something to use as a bait. Weeks will go by and she'll wait to see if the information creeps up. Someone would use this secret casually and she'd know not to trust him. Arms covered in bandages to keep the bite marks from the zombies clean until they healed swung limply at either side of her. She still hadn't recorded the healing time for minor scrapes. The bookcase came up along her side, and she stopped, glancing at the words on the spines. Pyper tipped her head as far as her neck would allow to read them.

Doc: "Alright. It isn't Ramona." He canted his head to the side as he looked at her, "It did not suit you, so that is good. What if I call you Casey instead? Or do you have something else you prefer?" He paused, "I prefer Doc.. but my name Charles, if you prefer that."

Pyper: Was she Pyper in here? As the plaster molding caught her eyes, she shook her head. "I don't like Casey. The name, on the papers where I lived said that my name is Lucretia." The very taste of the birth name itself warmed her saliva, it wasn't something she'd been use to hearing. Not since being under the care of Dr. Proulx, and his assistant Anais. "You don't like Charles?" Now her head was twisted so her eyes bore into him. Pyper always looked as though she stared through people rather than directly at them.

Doc: Doc debated, then decided he would trust her. "Not the name, so much as the way the name, can, be said. Said with such a condescending and disappointed tone. It annoys me. Therefore I prefer 'Doc'. But Lucretia. A very large name for such a tiny girl. It has a diabolical reputation. Do you live up to that name? Or do you not know it's history?" His tone was conversational, not condemning or approving; more curious than anything.

Pyper: "I like Charles," she stated, pivoting the rest of her body to face the other chair. No step was taken immediately. Perhaps the concept of sitting still, as her hands fidget to keep the tremor undetectable, was impossible. "I never knew why I was called it. Just that I was. Will you tell me?" One step towards the chair, but she'd wait until he wasn't looking. "I don't know very many things. Things that other people have known for a long time. Or I did, but I've forgot. Hard to tell, some times."

Doc: "Lucretia Borgia was her name. I cannot tell you accuracy when she lived, just that it was in the middle ages. Somewhere between 1200 and 1600. Lucretia was the daughter of a Pope." He looked at her, "Popes back then could buy their titles. They didn't have to be men of god. But you can imagine.. being Pope gave one power. And the Pope used that power. Mainly through his daughter Lucretia. There is some schools of thought that say she wasn't a pawn, she was the archetect of her own path.. others say she was a tool of the Pope. Either way.. three very prominate men of their time found themsevles married to her.. and then promptly dead. It was said they could not deny her sexual pull."

Pyper: Mid-step, her leg halted, foot hovering from the ground. He was looking. If their eyes met, his locking in with her countering pale blues, Pyper refused the semi-voluntary action of blinking. "We are opposites. I've never had sex. I know that people pair, and they do things with their clothes off. Or on. We make fadebeasts." A pause, to consider whether to elaborate. Regardless of whether it's necessary to voice or not, Pyper continued, "Axel said that if I made a fadebeast that it'd not be able to do the things that I can do. It couldn't see what you've done days ago. Couldn't wear your skin to be you, in a vision. Is that true?"

Doc: Doc nodded at her admission. "Fadebeasts." He could not comment, no he wouldn not comment, on what had transpired with Phoenix. Doctor patient confidentiality. So he prevaricated from other experiences he had had. "Yes we do make fadebeasts if we copulate. It is random. Not every coupling causes one. But it does happen. I have terminated three fadebeast pregnancies. They are not something you want to have happen. That said, if it does happen.. they can be terminated. As I have done previously. My advice.. before you chose to copulate because it is enoyable in the right situation, know your options ahead of time."

[Doc]

- - The following transcript was a live chat roleplay - -




Pyper: "I've never had an interest .. before.. " The time that spaced out that single word had more content she could have offered, but didn't. A few night prior, the confession of her interest in physical intimacy had made the thoughts locked away in her head burst and scatter. A constant, noisy pulse of static, making each partial string of reason mesh, split and group back together to make an entire epiphany of nonsense. "That is only between a male, and female? Leah said that two women couldn't make a fadebeast." Nails drag their way over the bandages unable to scratch at the skin, so it was a wasted effort. "I don't see Leah anymore, though."

Doc: "I cannot confirm that. It might be able to happen.. I doubt it.. but I am not going to categorically deny it. After all" he looked at her, "Vampires are not supposed to exist.. yet here we are. What is to say that female on female coupling, cannot create a fadebeast? Not Me. There are too many variables." He looked at her, "Yes I know Leah.. I have not seen her ..or heard from her in some weeks.. maybe even months." He had registered the significance of the word 'before'. But his role was not to impress on her his moral code, or lack there of. His role was to listen, and give ideas, .. once.. and only once the two of them came to an agreement.

Pyper: "Phoenix said she is not coming back. Leah said that we were a pair. I don't think we are, if she is gone. Is she?" It would mean for her to correct Roderic in saying that they were not partners, or can there be both? Were they the same? Pyper had since covered the short way to the chair, now lowering herself down. The grey, translucent blouse, the deep maroon thin strapped top and the jeans all had come from Phoenix's closet in one of the towers of Wickbridge. They fit her but they were never comfortable for her. The constant shifting must have made it appear she had constant itching spells. The only thing she wore that belonged to her was a necklace with a rat bone inside of a vial, and the decorate woven hair accessory hidden in the underside of her unruly mess of blonde coils.*

Doc: "I have no way of knowing if she is coming back or not." Interesting that Phoenix did. Phoenix must know something he did not. Interesting in the extreme. Did Phoenix know how to permanently rid them of annoying vampires? "I have not seen her. So apparently, Phoenix is correct. And.. if you have doubts.. then honestly, you have not performed the ritual. If you had, there would be no doubts. My advice, never do that ******* ritual. NEVER." He spoke from experience. It would bleed into his tone of voice. It was not a pleasant thing.

Pyper: Ritual? The ones that Phoenix needed the ears for? "I don't know that we did a ritual. She put my hand down her pants a couple nights. Said that she'd teach me things and I let her. I couldn't tell if I liked it or not." Pyper didn't know whether there would have been any appeal in performing a ritual that someone spoke about with an inkling of negative connotation lining ever syllable. "You did?"

Doc: Doc sighed long and loud. "Yes I ******* did.. and I regret every.. every.. Did I say EVERY ******* second of it." He stared at her. "Lucretia." He wanted to make sure he had her ******* attention. "NEVER .. do that ******* ritual. Never. Eternity is too ******* long. And we lie. Even when we do not think we are.. we do. We do it for the noblest of intentions.. but it is a lie none the less. If he or she.. really loves you.. You do not need a ******* ritual." He started to count. He let his emotions get away from him. he should have been more careful. "But that is my .. and only my opinion." he paused again, "You are free to have your own opinions. I apologize. We touched on a subject I feel strongly about."

Pyper: Glaucous hued irises pulsate with the widening pupils they hugged at the demonstration of his temper. Pyper is a malleable individual, shaped and molded by the hands of the figures surrounding her. Social deprivation during critical years meant that she was never introduced to any forms of peer pressure, whether they were intentional or unintentionally delivered. "We are in a safe place. We don't apologize for speaking, do we?" There's humming under her breath, "Do you still love that person, and that is why you are angry, Charles?" The tone of her voice was very monotonous; knowing whether she sounded condescending, or disappointed was beyond her comprehension level.

Doc: "Love? Love the ball and chain? Love the female that fucked me over for my brother?" He paused. It was a rather long pause. "No I do not love her. I respected her. I considered her my partner. I gave her the intimacy I have never given another. And she fucked me over, for Pratt." another pause. "That is the closest I have allowed anyone. And she fucked me over." He stopped. "Eternal bond be damned. She can ******* rot, for all I care. In fact, If there was an eternal fire that could be lit by her body... I would light it."

Pyper: "It is an intense emotion, I've seen it in other's faces. The strange things they do, they say, they give to other people, because of love," the thoughts delve deeper, the glassy surface of her eyes reflects sharpened mirrors of their dome surfaces. "Hate, also controls people. Makes them do things, and not think. Where is the line that causes us to view them as deviations of one another, instead of the same? At their peak, they look the same to me."

Doc: Doc pondered. She was a watcher. Much like himself. "You are correct. Hate is an intense emotion. It is a negative emotion. It sucks the energy out of you. Leaving you tired and frustrated. What I try to do is.. give you the tools to see where you are lacking, and fill them in. Sometimes I am right.. and sometimes I am wrong. I will not profess to being perfect. Perfection is an illusion." he paused. "We.. " he looked at her, "you and I .. we have those that we trust. We have those that we see the use of. And we see those that we do not trust." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We can push forward at the cost of others. Or we can maintain the status quo. Which is right? We.." He smiled a closed mouth smile, "do not know what is right and wrong in this precise time period. Why? Because of the variables. Who amongst us is correct?"

Pyper: So focused was she on him that the rest of the the objects and geometry surrounding his outline began to bleed away and blurr into indistinguishable shapes with vague recollections of their former vibrant colors. These ocular catatonic states came and went without alluding to their patterns. The former doctors that have studied her as though she were a laboratory rodent never pinpointed the triggers. It had never stopped the experiments imitated in capturing one of these moments. "It is all relative, then. Definitive terms are nearly obsolete. It is not black and white. It is not black, white and grey. It is the shades that get from space devoid of color to a space that has been introduced to too much color." With an elbow digging into her knee, and the palm turning up, a place for her chin to rest presented itself. She took the absent offering despite the way her eyes never moved from his outline. "Should I see right and wrong like other people? Phoenix, I think, some times wants me to be like other people. She did not like the things that I did."

Doc: "Yes unfortunately.. black and white is obsolete. And Right and wrong, is in the eye of the beholder. Who is to say your view is wrong versus someone elses position; is it, is it not? I will not say what say that what Phoenix says, is always right. Nor will I say it is always wrong." He counted. "What I will say say, is,.. for the sake of us all.. we need to act with clarity. Making sure that we are not putting the masquerade at risk." He subsided into silence. "Unfortunately we, you and I, cannot trust the majority of the city.. can we?"

Pyper: Pyper gravitated mentally towards the professional seated behind his desk. That word, clarity. When a hand swiped across the rain speckled glass. Moments like those arose, softening the chattering of a thousand contrary voices bellowing their points to be heard above the others. They were mesmerizing and horrifying harsh to her every sense at the same time. "They are fleeting. I get needs. I like to run, and to chase something. There are many things we can't do. Nature overrides." The admission beckoned her eyes to meet with the floor.

Doc: He nodded, "Needs.. or urges. We all get them. Learning when we can .. and cannot act on those urges, are what is most important." he smiled a slight closed mouth smile, "I would be lying if I said i have never had any urges. I see nothing wrong with the desire to run. To chase... to hunt. But as with all things.. there is a time and place for all things. And at times, we need to exhibit restraint."

Pyper: Pyper nearly scoffed; it's a blazing glint of irritation that shocked her into an antsy state. As if startled by an underlying emotion she hadn't even been aware of. Her words came out, and she never thought them to be her own but they originated from her the same, "And then no one would see. The improvements. My work, the efforts. I am more than I am."

Doc: Doc leaned back and perused her at length. Studying her, his head canted slightly to the side. "Recognition is important to you?" He didn't really believe that to be the case, but he asked it none the less. He was intrigued by what she meant, by 'the improvements', her 'work and efforts'. Was it a delusion of self-importance? No he didn't believe that for a moment. So the question became, what did she mean? He could ask point blank, but they she would know he interested, and she prevaricate. Walls would be put into place, and he be shut out. So he chose to focus on the unimportant. Would it irritate her? Or would she become arrogant that he 'did not understand'? He did love a puzzle.

Pyper: Acknowledgement of her deeds only bore great importance in her life as they came from Phoenix. Studying the reactions of her sire showed trending patterns in negative and positive feedback. The more she yielded in the suggestions of her sire, the more pleased her immortal matriarch shed stress. When her blood ran without disturbance, Pyper felt livelier in the evenings upon waking. But recognition from others didn't hold even a portion of the significance. No, it wasn't that. "No. I want to not be recognized." Assimilation, complete integration.

Doc: "Then I am confused... " He didn't feign a perplexed look, his look was even and pointed as he watched her. "You said, 'then no one would see' your.. work and effort." His brow did furrow slightly, but it was unconscious on his part, "If you do not want recognition, what does it matter then if no one sees your effort?"

Pyper: Nails dent the skin at either side of her jawbones, and her frown made it clear that she was carefully choosing her words this time. "I.. " Pyper failed to grasp her meaning. Her next attempt deviated, to better convey what she was really trying to say. "I want to be faceless. People worry, when I have wounds. They don't see that I get better. That I can be better, expand these things I can do. That I am not .. brittle." She used the word Roderic had used to describe her.

Doc: Doc nodded. He could sense she was struggling. "I understand this feeling. I too prefer to take a backseat as it were." He smiled at her. It was a knowing smile, "You can get more accomplished when you aren't being watched." He paused and then sat forward, "I have enjoyed our conversation. I would not be averse to doing it again." If she wished to continue it would be, because she chose to continue. And due to her unease, he decided it was time to bring it a close. It was about perception. Perception played a role in everything everyone did or did not do. He wanted her perception to be clear and unhindered by guesses or delusions. If she chose to continue, they would converse, only converse. By ending the conversation before she was done, he hoped would make her see it was precisely as he said it was. Talking, and nothing else.

Pyper: His words hung with a sort of finality that her brain snatched onto to turn over, break apart. He had a command woven in his tones that subconsciously hypnotized the patience to associate the baritone octaves with certain courses of response. Dr. Proulx had attempted but was less able to lull the blonde into taking up the cue. It often exacerbated the overloaded sessions they endured and more times than it hadn't, she had to be sedated and in an isolated room. "We will," she stated, as if it were an inevitable circumstance, paved to happen. Her body lifted from the chair. "I have a question, before I leave."

Doc: "Oh?" A question was unexpected, but pleasantly received. She was a thinker as well as a watcher, "Very well Lucretia, ask your question. I will endeavor to answer it to your satisfaction."

Pyper: One of her palms spread its fingers out, each appendage shook of its own accord. "I keep a journal. It's hard to write now. I like to keep things, so I can look back and remember. I've lost a lot of things." The knuckles bent and she made a fist, released. It didn't help. "I considered audio recording. Do you have spare parts?"

Doc: Doc opened a drawer, frowned as he looked. Then a look of remembrance crossed his face as he shut the first drawer and opened a second one. He had to rummage for a moment, but he successfully wtihdrew a small handheld tape recorder. "I do not use this anymore. I did in my human days, but not any longer. If you can put it to good use. Consider it yours"

Pyper: When she smiled, the tow row of teeth peeked from behind the tiny bulk of flesh. Cupping her hands together, they'd cradle the recorder and bring it down for her to inspect hunching at the nape of her neck. "Thank you, Charles. Can I bring the book, for you? Things for you to read, we can talk about them. Some times, I don't know what things to talk about."

Doc: "Yes you may. I enjoy reading very much. I would like that." It was true, he spent most of his down time reading. He had an e-reader app on his phone. He let people presume he was reading texts, but a lot of the time he was reading a book. He wasn't sure which book she referenced, but it didn't matter. He always learned something new when reading.

Pyper: The new journal was crushed to her chest by a single arm. The pressure of it was firm enough to not permit it to slip from some slip in her hand's grasp and clatter to the floor to break apart. It was her new journal. Her hands estimated to have a couple more written entries left, then she'd deliver it to Doc's office, for him to read. Her life was hardly private, and the flaw of over sharing never corrected. "I need a few nights. I'll bring it with me." Her body pivoted for the door. They needn't linger on a goodbye. Yet, out of a bizarre, engrained teaching, the farewell escaped from her mouth halfway through the doorway, "Goodnight, Charles."

Doc: "Good evening Lucretia, be safe." He watched her leave. His first impression, he liked her. He would look forward to their next conversation.