Awkward Therapy Sessions (Pyper)
Posted: 27 Dec 2014, 22:53
"--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--"
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December 23, 2014
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Pyper: The scattered collision of thoughts vocalize with friction. No one word could be plucked from the masses. They were broken, splintered and reshaped into abominations. It's a sound that she couldn't erase or restructure for an improved sense of comprehension about their meanings. Parts of her brain didn't work at the same speeds, the images of the memories exploded in a vibrant static. It was rare that whole pictures were included to insert some clarity. The only means of eradicating the hindrance to her partial mediation was to gift someone else with them. She reached out, and poured the contents of her conscious into him. The messy reenactments of the night previous. Her memory of inspecting the laboratory. Of watching Roderic and his date. Of maiming that man's neck.
Doc: He wasn’t prepared for the mental onslaught the thoughts she projected at him. The memories came across like snapshots frozen in time, overlaid with chatter to f noise. The noise was actually thoughts overlaid on top of one another, thus sounding more like static than voices. Voices. Multiples not singular. Where they all her? Some memories had frames of disembodied movement that made an almost jerky motion. Was that how she saw them? Or was it merely how he processed them. He did not have the gift of telepathy or mindspeak, could this be why the thoughts and memories seemed jumbled, disjointed and out of order? The overriding feeling he got from the memories was a sense of searching, longing for understanding. Doc had to close his eyes for a moment while he tried to process everything. It was a few moments later before he spoke. “Is it like that all the time?”
Pyper: The sensation of her nails grazing over her scalp alleviated some of the pile up but when the physical distraction was taken away, the swarm reactivated with a renewed energy. As if they had been waiting in a dormant state through the scratch session. Her eyes glossed over, the pupils strained with the spiritual effort illustrating and leaking into bodily manifestations. Manipulating her expressions, her tissue, the parts that made her. Slowly the lids come down and redistributed the accumulation of moisture that welled to the brim of her inferior eyelids. "Most, times. Not, others. When, wounded. It feels, clear. I can, pick one. To look, to listen to. But most times, like that." Her knuckles folded inwards to crack their joints.
Doc: His head canted slightly to the side as he looked at her. How she could remain so outwardly calm, while that much stimuli bouncing around her mind, was immensely impressive to him. He had been witness to a nanobit of information compared to what she probably dealt with day in and day out, hour after hour. The little things seemed to make more sense to him now. Not brushing her hair, of course that would be the last thing on her list of priorities. He felt chagrinned that he had chided her about her appearance. However, when she wounded, she could focus. “Have you ever harmed yourself in order to gain focus?” There was no judgement to his voice. It was question, much like one would ask about the time.
Pyper: The first three weeks had been nothing but wounds. Her favorite had been the gunshot wound to the head. The bullet itself tore through a section of her brain that controlled the use of her voice. Projecting her voice into their minds had been the least evasive obstacle as far as powers went. Should she tell Charles about her intentionally provoking the creatures in the sewers? All of the nights she waited on the lawn outside the Flats for the sun to rise and make her flesh sizzle and curl with blackened ends? Lucretia would see it as a show of respect and reciprocity. Considering the sewer space he gave her a key to. "Yes. Not, much. Phoenix, gets upset. Tells me, everyone says to, be careful. Some are, accidents. More are, not. When there is, too much. I wait, for the sun. For it to burn, for the cleanse."
Doc: He nodded slowly. He had suspected that she had self harmed based on her comment about the wounds helping her focus. No, his word was focus. Her phrase had been to pick one. Which made him feel like she was overloaded with stimuli most of the time, and ‘focusing’ on one was impossible. But when she was wounded, or more precisely, when she was in pain, the pain receptors blocked the stimuli allowing her to focus. “Would you be willing to allow me to experiment on you?” He paused, “There are devices called TENS.. which is short for Transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation. If we modify the unit to the right pulse, in the right location, with the right timing.. You may no longer need to self harm..”
Pyper: Electrical. Things that were electric shocked. He was asking to shock her, to put the cloth bound metal nodules to pressure the skin at her temples. The shocks use to light up her vision. The nurses said it was the patience seeing a glimpse of Heaven. If it was, there was nothing in Heaven and no one. More fidgeting was had with more ferocity than the previous symphony of escaped air from between bone. "You want, to use shocks." The descent was a steady trickle of instances in the past the blond had been strapped to the chair. Forced fed a clamp meant to keep her tongue from being bitten off. It helped keep her screaming stifled as well. "No, no, no, no." The adamant shake of the dread-like coils that fissure her scalp whip and leave a light sting over her face on either side.
Doc: “No, not shocks.” **** he should have remembered, she had electroshock therapy. Of course she would say no with such an adverse reaction. “Pulses. They use them as pain remedy, for humans with chronic pain. However, you said no. I had to ask. I would not be doing due diligence if I did not offer you a possible solution to mediate the chaos. I apologize if I scared you. I can get single minded when I see a problem and start working on a solution.” He smirked ruefully. “I’m a fixer. I want to fix. Sometimes I do not see that the process of fixing is worse.”
Pyper: Lucretia didn't have all of the information, she couldn't make a definitive decision until he explained more about it. "I do, not understand, the procedure. Research, first. I, take back, my answer. Until I, learn more. We can, talk about it, next meeting?" Her hands still to cease their idle toying, the shaking being an involuntary tic but a permanent part of her life. Both lives, since it carried over from the first. "I accept, the apology. Yours. You, didn't know. I didn't, either. About pulses." The angle of her head would have been agitating if her posture were proper from the start, and conditioned to be ideal, especially for her body type, and the elasticity of her muscles. They had their tolerance cap.
Doc: “Thank you. If you decide later you want to see it. I will get one, and I will wear it.. and you can turn it on it while I wear it. But enough of that .. I think I stressed you. May I show you trick I learned in university?” He took her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb, “I would study all night, then be in class all day. The tension and stress of being bent over a book, would knot the muscles in my upper back and neck. But there are pressure points in the hand.. “ He rubbed the area between her thumb and index finger on both sides, in a circular motion. He slowly applied pressure, not to the point of pain, but to the point that the precise pressure point was touched. He held it for ten seconds, then he let go. “Feel less tense? Doesn’t work for everyone every time. But with practice it can.”
Pyper: The gnarly cap of dirty blond ropes shuffle and skim their tiny hairs along her cheeks as her neck rotated forwards in order to watch his hand and hers. The repetitious tunneling of his fingers gave her something to grab onto. To settle attention to. It never went away, they would probably never go away and she accepted it has a concrete block. Immovable and sustainable as the regenerative bipedal specimen she is. He said before that he was a ********. An asshole. Then why would he do these things, and help where he did not necessarily need to? Did he know himself? "A little, bit. Can, I try?" She made a vague gesture with her head to his hands. She could practice, begin to commit it inside of that array of fragmented atoms in her skull.
Doc: “Of course.” He gave her a crooked closed lip smirk. He released her hand. He was drawn to Lucretia. She was, in her own way open to learning and experiencing new things. So many of the young let the power of being a vampire overrule everything else. They acted arrogantly as though they had nothing left to learn, that they knew all, by the mere act of dying in human form and waking as a vampire. But not Lucretia. She saw the world with a unique perspective, one that he wanted to know more about. Often when he found himself in a routine, or a rut, it was being forced to see things from a different viewpoint that opened the creative thought process. Lucretia was his muse in that respect. She taught him things, he would have overlooked, and in turned she was eager to learn and experience new things as well. Her delight in learning things clearly showed in her face, whether she was aware of it or not. He found her presence pleasing. As much as Phoenix threatened him if he hurt her, he too would kill someone if they harmed her. Lucretia had nothing to fear from him.
Pyper: They moved like the delicate legs of an arachnid, the prints ginger as they cradled one of his hands. What did their feeling remind her of? Lucretia still couldn't find a word, a thing that accurately pinpointed the brazen surface of the palms of his hands, of the topmost flesh that were ridged with veins. The slender curvatures of the hitchhikers thumb made an indentation where she estimated the same spot to be. It made uncertain circular patterns but they alternated clockwise and counterclockwise. Her index worked in synchronicity, putting the same impression to the peak of his hand as the thumb nudged the underside. "Like, this? And, this worked, for you?" Perhaps the next time he tumbled into a state of blazing agitation she could disarm it, if she remembered how to.
Doc: “Yes.. exactly like that.. You are a quick study. And it did work for me when I was in University. I have not thought of it in years, until I saw you tense up. The memory came back. Ironic what we remember and why, isn’t it?” The truth be known Doc had several relaxation techniques he used. Each for a different set of agitation. Some were to relieve physical, some mental stress, some a combination of the two. Then there was anger management. Which he found was getting harder and harder for him to control. He had calmed down quite a bit from his blow up with Phoenix earlier, but that was mostly due to Lucretia forcing his attention away from the subject of Phoenix and on to something else.
Pyper: "You, use your hands, for work. A lot." Compared to hers their crevices were worn and coarse. "Mine, don't feel like, these." They weren't unpleasant to have them scratch her. Facial hair had the same sting to it, it tickled before it made any sort of discomfort. It felt nice, it tingled. The lap her fingers made slow, halting as she began to inspect his hands. Inspect them thoroughly since she's had no time before.
Doc: He allowed her to look, touch, inspect his hands as she wanted. “I do. I found that I prefer to do most things myself, if I can. I dislike asking for help. Not because I am too proud.. but rather, I want to try it myself first. I can be single minded until I figure something out.” He watched her as she inspected his hands. “Mechanics, taking things apart and putting them back together, I understand that. Removing a limb, an organ, repairing a tear, easy. Given enough time to practice. But what I cannot do telepathy like you and Phoenix can. I’ve tried. Its ******* frustrating as hell that I cannot even grasp the concept.”
Pyper: It was confusing for her to understand the things she was capable of naturally. There was the history of her accidental attacks on other lineage members due to her misunderstanding of what it meant when her mind worked further than the average human's. Yet not the way other Telepaths did. Everyone had their perspectives but she found a gravitational pull to very specific people. People like Charles, people like Calix and Roman. Paige, and Phoenix. None of their mental theories or knowledge aligned perfectly parallel. "It, is good some times, to have, help. Less, anger. When you, can't do, something. You learn, change for preference. You create, something for you. Powers. Mine, I do not, know all. How to, use. When to. I have, to search. See, further. I, made that man, that night. Do, the things I said. He, had no mind. In that moment."
Doc: “You were able to take over his mind?” He gave that comment some thought. “I have flattered, cajoled people that normally wouldn’t agree to do anything for me.. But to actually take over their mind. No. That is beyond me.” He shook his head. “I doubt I will ever get it. Maybe I am not meant to. Maybe I need to learn to control my emotions first. Seems logical that until I can do that, anything more is wishful thinking.
“You adapt well. If you struggle you do not let it show. Even the other night with the body. You didn’t panic. You made a plan and you executed, you didn’t let the emotions tie you down to inactivity. So for all the stimulus you have going at any given time, you do a great job of not letting it show that it wears on you.”
Pyper: "It is, not, that way, alone." She didn't show anyone the nights that she cried. They have been few and far between. Or the agitation, aside from the few flowering months of her prolonged status of death. Phoenix witnessed and was subject to those times. The yelling, the baseless accusations. They still came but they were more controlled. More internal, than they were before. Charles wasn't aware, and many other people close to her never saw those pieces. She hid them, and well, because people choose to have their secrets and she selected her emotions to be her own.
Doc: "It never is. We all pick and choose what others see. We have our public face.. and then there is who we really are. Usually only a select really ever see that. Well In my case.. it is increasingly harder for me to control my anger." He nodded. "The fact it erupts in front of people.. is enough to set me off as well. But I am working on it."
Pyper: "It, is interesting to see. Your anger. It rise." Admittance on the smidgen of pleasure she derived from his temper welled up some guilt. It shouldn't have been right. It wasn't right and that was something she could recognize, but it didn't make it any less true, in her view.
Doc: "It can be frustrating.. because I can be fine.. then it's like someone flipped a switch. And I loose control. It happens more with Phoenix, than anyone else." He sighed, he still needed to tell her.
Pyper: "Phoenix, is that way. With me." Her temper was a very familiar friend. The mistakes Pyper made were normally the catalyst. Her hands came away from his. She could practice on Ethy, or Roman tonight.
Doc: "I doubt it is the same.. Phoenix goes out of her way to push my buttons. Like when she summoned me for no reason, and then said, 'Oh you're wearing pants, never mind.'" He seethed just retelling it. "What gives her that ******* right? IF anyone has ******* rights it would be me! But you don't see me" He stopped abruptly. He counted. He was quiet for a long moment. "Apologies."
Pyper: Lucretia didn't say anything, and she hardly moved. She watched, she tried to understand. "Because, she thought, we were, having sex." Phoenix had this idea that didn't connect in Pyper's mind. "She asked, me a lot, of questions about. My feelings, towards, you. What I feel." It was after his apology that she chided up. He didn't need to apologize so it was overlooked.
Doc: ". It is none of her ******* business. . You aren't stupid. . I wouldn't do that to you. She should give us both some ******* credit."
Pyper: "You would, not have, sex with me." She was trying to follow his words and found that she was bleeding their meanings together. So she reiterated for clarity sake.
Doc: "Not like Phoenix was implicating. It isn't something I would just drag you into, which is what Phoenix is thinking. Its like dancing.. that man may lead.. but its the female that calls the shots. So No I wouldn't. Not like that."
Pyper: "I, call the, shots." No one had ever bluntly vocalized that with her. "I, will, remember. For later, for when I feel, ready. With a person. If ever. "
Doc: "Yes. Precisely that Lucretia. YOU call the shots. Not them .. You. Which is another reason I am annoyed at Phoenix, for her not trusting you to stand up for yourself." He looked at her pointedly, "If you do not want to you say no and if he pushes you.. you ******* kill him. If you need help.. I will help you kill him."
Pyper: People viewed her as a childe. Jesse had been one to still see her as such but not hold any pity for her. He never babied her like most of the other acquaintances in her life. "I, am young. A girl. To people. They, do not think. Or know that, I sometimes, think about sex. Not, very much. Not anymore. Couples, they fail. It is, a consistent pattern."
Doc: "Yes you are young. Of course you think about sex, you wouldn't be normal if didn't think about sex, but you are naive. And that is not a bad thing. But it does make you a target. And you are small, you could be easily overpowered. So that a man can take advantage of you. Some men don't care about what is right and wrong. They just care about themselves. That is what Phoenix was thinking *I* was doing to you."
Pyper: There was a line that made right and wrong very strict in their definitions. The nurses said that there was no grey area in morality. Pyper wondered whether they counted the line itself. The inside of it. "I, have trained. Stronger, than I, appear. To people. They forget." A hand touched the outside of his arm. The nails stroked, they were growing out because she wasn't picking at them anymore. "I, know, you wouldn't. Be like those, men, Charles."
Doc: "Thank you. Because I would not do that to you." His hands flex absently, "It's insulting that she would think that of either of us.." He looked at her, "I know you are stronger than you look. But when we fall really hard, its when we think we are invincible. When we think we cannot be beaten."
Pyper: Phoenix struck hard, with her assumptions about the two of them. Lucretia took in the effect, filtered it through her eyes and stored them in her brain. Does Charles become angry when he is hurt? Or was it dependent, and relative? "I will, know, now. Because, you told me. It will, not happen. I will, be careful. Calix says, men, can be, stupid."
Doc: "Yes they can. And kicking them in the groin.. will slow them down when they are ******* stupid." He drew a deep breath and let it out slow. "I was going to take you to Lab in the sewers."
Pyper: "We, can go, another time. I liked, talking. About this. I learn, a lot. From our, talks." She didn't mind, it was likely she'll find herself there again to look around. See if she could see traces of mental imprints in the room.
Doc: Doc raked a hand through his hair. She had seen his anger, He had barely repressed it. He obsessed and ranted about it, then he had asked to electrocute her and now she was trying to politely extricate herself from his presence. He swallowed and smiled tiredly, "Alright. Another time then." Of course she learned a lot. She learned she wanted to avoid him.
Pyper: The way her eyes ping ponged in her head meant that she couldn't read the situation. That the blond was searching for.. something. An elusive thing. One that her grasp wasn't quite right, and it slipped through her palms. "What, will you do, with your night?" She knew that he was busy. Could be busy. She didn't want to stay if he had work.
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December 23, 2014
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Pyper: The scattered collision of thoughts vocalize with friction. No one word could be plucked from the masses. They were broken, splintered and reshaped into abominations. It's a sound that she couldn't erase or restructure for an improved sense of comprehension about their meanings. Parts of her brain didn't work at the same speeds, the images of the memories exploded in a vibrant static. It was rare that whole pictures were included to insert some clarity. The only means of eradicating the hindrance to her partial mediation was to gift someone else with them. She reached out, and poured the contents of her conscious into him. The messy reenactments of the night previous. Her memory of inspecting the laboratory. Of watching Roderic and his date. Of maiming that man's neck.
Doc: He wasn’t prepared for the mental onslaught the thoughts she projected at him. The memories came across like snapshots frozen in time, overlaid with chatter to f noise. The noise was actually thoughts overlaid on top of one another, thus sounding more like static than voices. Voices. Multiples not singular. Where they all her? Some memories had frames of disembodied movement that made an almost jerky motion. Was that how she saw them? Or was it merely how he processed them. He did not have the gift of telepathy or mindspeak, could this be why the thoughts and memories seemed jumbled, disjointed and out of order? The overriding feeling he got from the memories was a sense of searching, longing for understanding. Doc had to close his eyes for a moment while he tried to process everything. It was a few moments later before he spoke. “Is it like that all the time?”
Pyper: The sensation of her nails grazing over her scalp alleviated some of the pile up but when the physical distraction was taken away, the swarm reactivated with a renewed energy. As if they had been waiting in a dormant state through the scratch session. Her eyes glossed over, the pupils strained with the spiritual effort illustrating and leaking into bodily manifestations. Manipulating her expressions, her tissue, the parts that made her. Slowly the lids come down and redistributed the accumulation of moisture that welled to the brim of her inferior eyelids. "Most, times. Not, others. When, wounded. It feels, clear. I can, pick one. To look, to listen to. But most times, like that." Her knuckles folded inwards to crack their joints.
Doc: His head canted slightly to the side as he looked at her. How she could remain so outwardly calm, while that much stimuli bouncing around her mind, was immensely impressive to him. He had been witness to a nanobit of information compared to what she probably dealt with day in and day out, hour after hour. The little things seemed to make more sense to him now. Not brushing her hair, of course that would be the last thing on her list of priorities. He felt chagrinned that he had chided her about her appearance. However, when she wounded, she could focus. “Have you ever harmed yourself in order to gain focus?” There was no judgement to his voice. It was question, much like one would ask about the time.
Pyper: The first three weeks had been nothing but wounds. Her favorite had been the gunshot wound to the head. The bullet itself tore through a section of her brain that controlled the use of her voice. Projecting her voice into their minds had been the least evasive obstacle as far as powers went. Should she tell Charles about her intentionally provoking the creatures in the sewers? All of the nights she waited on the lawn outside the Flats for the sun to rise and make her flesh sizzle and curl with blackened ends? Lucretia would see it as a show of respect and reciprocity. Considering the sewer space he gave her a key to. "Yes. Not, much. Phoenix, gets upset. Tells me, everyone says to, be careful. Some are, accidents. More are, not. When there is, too much. I wait, for the sun. For it to burn, for the cleanse."
Doc: He nodded slowly. He had suspected that she had self harmed based on her comment about the wounds helping her focus. No, his word was focus. Her phrase had been to pick one. Which made him feel like she was overloaded with stimuli most of the time, and ‘focusing’ on one was impossible. But when she was wounded, or more precisely, when she was in pain, the pain receptors blocked the stimuli allowing her to focus. “Would you be willing to allow me to experiment on you?” He paused, “There are devices called TENS.. which is short for Transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation. If we modify the unit to the right pulse, in the right location, with the right timing.. You may no longer need to self harm..”
Pyper: Electrical. Things that were electric shocked. He was asking to shock her, to put the cloth bound metal nodules to pressure the skin at her temples. The shocks use to light up her vision. The nurses said it was the patience seeing a glimpse of Heaven. If it was, there was nothing in Heaven and no one. More fidgeting was had with more ferocity than the previous symphony of escaped air from between bone. "You want, to use shocks." The descent was a steady trickle of instances in the past the blond had been strapped to the chair. Forced fed a clamp meant to keep her tongue from being bitten off. It helped keep her screaming stifled as well. "No, no, no, no." The adamant shake of the dread-like coils that fissure her scalp whip and leave a light sting over her face on either side.
Doc: “No, not shocks.” **** he should have remembered, she had electroshock therapy. Of course she would say no with such an adverse reaction. “Pulses. They use them as pain remedy, for humans with chronic pain. However, you said no. I had to ask. I would not be doing due diligence if I did not offer you a possible solution to mediate the chaos. I apologize if I scared you. I can get single minded when I see a problem and start working on a solution.” He smirked ruefully. “I’m a fixer. I want to fix. Sometimes I do not see that the process of fixing is worse.”
Pyper: Lucretia didn't have all of the information, she couldn't make a definitive decision until he explained more about it. "I do, not understand, the procedure. Research, first. I, take back, my answer. Until I, learn more. We can, talk about it, next meeting?" Her hands still to cease their idle toying, the shaking being an involuntary tic but a permanent part of her life. Both lives, since it carried over from the first. "I accept, the apology. Yours. You, didn't know. I didn't, either. About pulses." The angle of her head would have been agitating if her posture were proper from the start, and conditioned to be ideal, especially for her body type, and the elasticity of her muscles. They had their tolerance cap.
Doc: “Thank you. If you decide later you want to see it. I will get one, and I will wear it.. and you can turn it on it while I wear it. But enough of that .. I think I stressed you. May I show you trick I learned in university?” He took her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb, “I would study all night, then be in class all day. The tension and stress of being bent over a book, would knot the muscles in my upper back and neck. But there are pressure points in the hand.. “ He rubbed the area between her thumb and index finger on both sides, in a circular motion. He slowly applied pressure, not to the point of pain, but to the point that the precise pressure point was touched. He held it for ten seconds, then he let go. “Feel less tense? Doesn’t work for everyone every time. But with practice it can.”
Pyper: The gnarly cap of dirty blond ropes shuffle and skim their tiny hairs along her cheeks as her neck rotated forwards in order to watch his hand and hers. The repetitious tunneling of his fingers gave her something to grab onto. To settle attention to. It never went away, they would probably never go away and she accepted it has a concrete block. Immovable and sustainable as the regenerative bipedal specimen she is. He said before that he was a ********. An asshole. Then why would he do these things, and help where he did not necessarily need to? Did he know himself? "A little, bit. Can, I try?" She made a vague gesture with her head to his hands. She could practice, begin to commit it inside of that array of fragmented atoms in her skull.
Doc: “Of course.” He gave her a crooked closed lip smirk. He released her hand. He was drawn to Lucretia. She was, in her own way open to learning and experiencing new things. So many of the young let the power of being a vampire overrule everything else. They acted arrogantly as though they had nothing left to learn, that they knew all, by the mere act of dying in human form and waking as a vampire. But not Lucretia. She saw the world with a unique perspective, one that he wanted to know more about. Often when he found himself in a routine, or a rut, it was being forced to see things from a different viewpoint that opened the creative thought process. Lucretia was his muse in that respect. She taught him things, he would have overlooked, and in turned she was eager to learn and experience new things as well. Her delight in learning things clearly showed in her face, whether she was aware of it or not. He found her presence pleasing. As much as Phoenix threatened him if he hurt her, he too would kill someone if they harmed her. Lucretia had nothing to fear from him.
Pyper: They moved like the delicate legs of an arachnid, the prints ginger as they cradled one of his hands. What did their feeling remind her of? Lucretia still couldn't find a word, a thing that accurately pinpointed the brazen surface of the palms of his hands, of the topmost flesh that were ridged with veins. The slender curvatures of the hitchhikers thumb made an indentation where she estimated the same spot to be. It made uncertain circular patterns but they alternated clockwise and counterclockwise. Her index worked in synchronicity, putting the same impression to the peak of his hand as the thumb nudged the underside. "Like, this? And, this worked, for you?" Perhaps the next time he tumbled into a state of blazing agitation she could disarm it, if she remembered how to.
Doc: “Yes.. exactly like that.. You are a quick study. And it did work for me when I was in University. I have not thought of it in years, until I saw you tense up. The memory came back. Ironic what we remember and why, isn’t it?” The truth be known Doc had several relaxation techniques he used. Each for a different set of agitation. Some were to relieve physical, some mental stress, some a combination of the two. Then there was anger management. Which he found was getting harder and harder for him to control. He had calmed down quite a bit from his blow up with Phoenix earlier, but that was mostly due to Lucretia forcing his attention away from the subject of Phoenix and on to something else.
Pyper: "You, use your hands, for work. A lot." Compared to hers their crevices were worn and coarse. "Mine, don't feel like, these." They weren't unpleasant to have them scratch her. Facial hair had the same sting to it, it tickled before it made any sort of discomfort. It felt nice, it tingled. The lap her fingers made slow, halting as she began to inspect his hands. Inspect them thoroughly since she's had no time before.
Doc: He allowed her to look, touch, inspect his hands as she wanted. “I do. I found that I prefer to do most things myself, if I can. I dislike asking for help. Not because I am too proud.. but rather, I want to try it myself first. I can be single minded until I figure something out.” He watched her as she inspected his hands. “Mechanics, taking things apart and putting them back together, I understand that. Removing a limb, an organ, repairing a tear, easy. Given enough time to practice. But what I cannot do telepathy like you and Phoenix can. I’ve tried. Its ******* frustrating as hell that I cannot even grasp the concept.”
Pyper: It was confusing for her to understand the things she was capable of naturally. There was the history of her accidental attacks on other lineage members due to her misunderstanding of what it meant when her mind worked further than the average human's. Yet not the way other Telepaths did. Everyone had their perspectives but she found a gravitational pull to very specific people. People like Charles, people like Calix and Roman. Paige, and Phoenix. None of their mental theories or knowledge aligned perfectly parallel. "It, is good some times, to have, help. Less, anger. When you, can't do, something. You learn, change for preference. You create, something for you. Powers. Mine, I do not, know all. How to, use. When to. I have, to search. See, further. I, made that man, that night. Do, the things I said. He, had no mind. In that moment."
Doc: “You were able to take over his mind?” He gave that comment some thought. “I have flattered, cajoled people that normally wouldn’t agree to do anything for me.. But to actually take over their mind. No. That is beyond me.” He shook his head. “I doubt I will ever get it. Maybe I am not meant to. Maybe I need to learn to control my emotions first. Seems logical that until I can do that, anything more is wishful thinking.
“You adapt well. If you struggle you do not let it show. Even the other night with the body. You didn’t panic. You made a plan and you executed, you didn’t let the emotions tie you down to inactivity. So for all the stimulus you have going at any given time, you do a great job of not letting it show that it wears on you.”
Pyper: "It is, not, that way, alone." She didn't show anyone the nights that she cried. They have been few and far between. Or the agitation, aside from the few flowering months of her prolonged status of death. Phoenix witnessed and was subject to those times. The yelling, the baseless accusations. They still came but they were more controlled. More internal, than they were before. Charles wasn't aware, and many other people close to her never saw those pieces. She hid them, and well, because people choose to have their secrets and she selected her emotions to be her own.
Doc: "It never is. We all pick and choose what others see. We have our public face.. and then there is who we really are. Usually only a select really ever see that. Well In my case.. it is increasingly harder for me to control my anger." He nodded. "The fact it erupts in front of people.. is enough to set me off as well. But I am working on it."
Pyper: "It, is interesting to see. Your anger. It rise." Admittance on the smidgen of pleasure she derived from his temper welled up some guilt. It shouldn't have been right. It wasn't right and that was something she could recognize, but it didn't make it any less true, in her view.
Doc: "It can be frustrating.. because I can be fine.. then it's like someone flipped a switch. And I loose control. It happens more with Phoenix, than anyone else." He sighed, he still needed to tell her.
Pyper: "Phoenix, is that way. With me." Her temper was a very familiar friend. The mistakes Pyper made were normally the catalyst. Her hands came away from his. She could practice on Ethy, or Roman tonight.
Doc: "I doubt it is the same.. Phoenix goes out of her way to push my buttons. Like when she summoned me for no reason, and then said, 'Oh you're wearing pants, never mind.'" He seethed just retelling it. "What gives her that ******* right? IF anyone has ******* rights it would be me! But you don't see me" He stopped abruptly. He counted. He was quiet for a long moment. "Apologies."
Pyper: Lucretia didn't say anything, and she hardly moved. She watched, she tried to understand. "Because, she thought, we were, having sex." Phoenix had this idea that didn't connect in Pyper's mind. "She asked, me a lot, of questions about. My feelings, towards, you. What I feel." It was after his apology that she chided up. He didn't need to apologize so it was overlooked.
Doc: ". It is none of her ******* business. . You aren't stupid. . I wouldn't do that to you. She should give us both some ******* credit."
Pyper: "You would, not have, sex with me." She was trying to follow his words and found that she was bleeding their meanings together. So she reiterated for clarity sake.
Doc: "Not like Phoenix was implicating. It isn't something I would just drag you into, which is what Phoenix is thinking. Its like dancing.. that man may lead.. but its the female that calls the shots. So No I wouldn't. Not like that."
Pyper: "I, call the, shots." No one had ever bluntly vocalized that with her. "I, will, remember. For later, for when I feel, ready. With a person. If ever. "
Doc: "Yes. Precisely that Lucretia. YOU call the shots. Not them .. You. Which is another reason I am annoyed at Phoenix, for her not trusting you to stand up for yourself." He looked at her pointedly, "If you do not want to you say no and if he pushes you.. you ******* kill him. If you need help.. I will help you kill him."
Pyper: People viewed her as a childe. Jesse had been one to still see her as such but not hold any pity for her. He never babied her like most of the other acquaintances in her life. "I, am young. A girl. To people. They, do not think. Or know that, I sometimes, think about sex. Not, very much. Not anymore. Couples, they fail. It is, a consistent pattern."
Doc: "Yes you are young. Of course you think about sex, you wouldn't be normal if didn't think about sex, but you are naive. And that is not a bad thing. But it does make you a target. And you are small, you could be easily overpowered. So that a man can take advantage of you. Some men don't care about what is right and wrong. They just care about themselves. That is what Phoenix was thinking *I* was doing to you."
Pyper: There was a line that made right and wrong very strict in their definitions. The nurses said that there was no grey area in morality. Pyper wondered whether they counted the line itself. The inside of it. "I, have trained. Stronger, than I, appear. To people. They forget." A hand touched the outside of his arm. The nails stroked, they were growing out because she wasn't picking at them anymore. "I, know, you wouldn't. Be like those, men, Charles."
Doc: "Thank you. Because I would not do that to you." His hands flex absently, "It's insulting that she would think that of either of us.." He looked at her, "I know you are stronger than you look. But when we fall really hard, its when we think we are invincible. When we think we cannot be beaten."
Pyper: Phoenix struck hard, with her assumptions about the two of them. Lucretia took in the effect, filtered it through her eyes and stored them in her brain. Does Charles become angry when he is hurt? Or was it dependent, and relative? "I will, know, now. Because, you told me. It will, not happen. I will, be careful. Calix says, men, can be, stupid."
Doc: "Yes they can. And kicking them in the groin.. will slow them down when they are ******* stupid." He drew a deep breath and let it out slow. "I was going to take you to Lab in the sewers."
Pyper: "We, can go, another time. I liked, talking. About this. I learn, a lot. From our, talks." She didn't mind, it was likely she'll find herself there again to look around. See if she could see traces of mental imprints in the room.
Doc: Doc raked a hand through his hair. She had seen his anger, He had barely repressed it. He obsessed and ranted about it, then he had asked to electrocute her and now she was trying to politely extricate herself from his presence. He swallowed and smiled tiredly, "Alright. Another time then." Of course she learned a lot. She learned she wanted to avoid him.
Pyper: The way her eyes ping ponged in her head meant that she couldn't read the situation. That the blond was searching for.. something. An elusive thing. One that her grasp wasn't quite right, and it slipped through her palms. "What, will you do, with your night?" She knew that he was busy. Could be busy. She didn't want to stay if he had work.