2019-08-02 - Very Educational

The agreement for there to be a meeting was made already, it just hadn't had a date or a time attached to it. Which Vivian chose, seemingly at random, sending a text to the both of them, or maybe a hand written note to Vyv, to meet down at her office off Spruce street.

It's divided into two parts, a front area and a back office, and it is in the back office that Vivian is sitting. No patients today, it seems, for she's not sporting her usual suit. Instead she's got on a pair of black slacks and a black silk blouse, with matching black heels. Very black today, honestly.

Alexander was downright relieved to get a location that wasn't Bayside, so he actually looks something close to cheerful as he reaches the office. He hasn't really managed to 'dress up', despite his intentions - the lack of a date of time until near the meeting means that he's here in his usual clothes: a ratty heavy metal band t-shirt, showing bits of the white undershirt, old jeans, stompy workboots that have seen a lot of miles. His hair is disheveled and slightly sweaty, and the bangs fall over his dark eyes as he lets himself into the office. He doesn't enter the back office immediately. Instead, like always, he says, "Dr. Glass? Alexander Clayton." And waits for an invitation before trespassing further.

"Mister Clayton, please come in." Vivian gestures him into the office, but she doesn't get up from her seat. It might be like she's getting ready to have a session, there is a yellow legal pad on her lap, and she's got her usual silver click pen is held in one hand, her thumb resting against the top as though she were ready to go, "Would you care for anything to eat or drink? I've coffee and water."

Vyv hasn't precisely dressed up either. It's just that in his case that still means he a arrives in a well-tailored, light-weight suit, imperial blue with a plain yellow silk tie and a white shirt with a blue and yellow plaid check. There's an almost water-colour-looking pocket square in the same general tones, amber cufflinks, and tan leather chelsea boots. His hair qualifies as a bit tousled, but certainly not disheveled. He does have one black item to match Vivian, but it's an umbrella, and he leaves that standing just inside the front door when he enters.

A quick glance is plenty to spot Alexander hovering by the back office door, and Vivian beyond it. His gaze sweeps across that view, taking in the black ensemble briefly and the rather less put-together one a bit less so, but the expression remains impassive, even managing to edge faintly in the direction of pleasant. "Good afternoon," he says, continuing toward the door, and if Alexander's moved inside, through it without awaiting further invitation. He has a small bag from his shop, which he sets down lightly on the desk, and he moves to claim one of the seats without prompting either.

Alexander walks in at the invitation, and his eyebrows go up as he sees her. "Did someone die?" A clearing of his throat. "Someone else. I mean." He starts to move towards his usual chair, but freezes when she makes the offer. "I...I can get some water. Would you like some?" He pivots, and freezes again when Vyv enters. The man is stared at. "Vyvyan Vidal. I'd guess? Alexander Clayton." He sidles towards the drinks. "I can get you something to drink. If that's okay." An uncomfortable look towards Vivian. It's not HIS office, after all.

"Not that I'm aware of, at least." Vivian offers with a shake of her head, not looking surprised by the question considering the state of things these days. So many deaths. When Alexander offers to get the waters she points in the direction of the mini fridge near her desk, against the back wall, "Should be fully stocked, and yes." She gestures to each in turn, "Alexander Clayton, this is Vyvyan Vydal. Vyv, this is Alexander."

"Ye-es. I thought you might be," Vyv replies, inclining his head to the man rather than offering to shake hands. "And as she says, yes. Vyvyan Vydal. How do you do." It's a greeting, not a question. He settles himself into the chosen chair, essaying to look about as comfortable as one can manage while still maintaining a certain amount of elegance, and adds, "Yes, please, as you're offering. I've brought some danishes, if anyone would like." He seems to take the staring reasonably in stride, but perhaps also as permission to study the other man more openly as well. Or maybe he would have in any case. "How are things?" he enquires of apparently both of them.

"I'm doing well. Thank you for asking." It doesn't matter if it wasn't a question, Alexander answers it anyway, and in exactly the tone of a child being forced to recite Proper Manners at a visit with distant, wealthy relatives. He grabs the drinks, and returns to where the other two are, offering one first to Vivian, then to Vyv. Then he sits down, with considerably less grace than either of his companions. His hands play nervously over the bottle rather than actually opening it. At the last question, he glances towards Vivian, then says, "In what sense, Mister Vydal? The wider existential, regional, personal, immediately temporal?" It's not sarcastic, at least going by the earnest tone.

"Thank you." This is a blanket statement for the both of them, water and danishes. She doesn't head for the danishes though, instead she twists the top off her bottle of water, "I'm going to simply say that I'm passable, thank you. Thank you both for agreeing to this meeting...Vyv was part of the original group that found the bones, and lives in the apartments." Like these two things explain it all.

Vyv accepts the water with a quiet, "Ta," though he doesn't open it immediately either. He meant generally personal, of course, and Alexander's reply and its tone give him about a heartbeat's pause, head tilting slightly as he regards the older man. "Have we got time for 'all of the above'?" he asks, tone faintly intrigued. "Though I suppose 'immediately temporal' might change by the time you were done." A glance to Vivian. "And yes, thank you for agreeing," and more clearly to her, "and for arranging things." Looking back to Alexander, he continues, "I'm told you're something of an expert on... all of this." The gesture is a bit vague, probably indicating the town as a whole, though it could theoretically just be the office.

"It's tried to kill me for three decades and hasn't yet succeeded," Alexander says, with a shrug. "I suppose that lends some sort of expertise. But the rules seem to be changing, from what I understood them to be. So there may be places where my knowledge hasn't caught up to the new reality. I'm sorry." A sidelong look at Vivian, and a short, jerky nod. "Sure. Anytime. Don't mind talking to people." But Vyv is given a wary look, like he might end up in a different category, eventually. "And I don't think we have time for 'all of the above', but if you have specific questions, I'll answer what I can."

Oh, that's unfair, Vyv is certainly people. A people who's been implicitly asked to be on good behaviour, even! This does not, apparently, preclude continuing to study Alexander as though some of the information might decide to reveal itself through behaviour, or possibly spontaneous writing on his person.

"I would think so," he says, "given some others certainly haven't accomplished that. In any case, I'm quite certain you know more than I do, which is part of the problem. I don't necessarily know the right questions to ask, as yet, and where to start..." He trails off, tapping the bottle absently with the tip of one of the fingers around it. "I suppose the relevant parts of 'how are things' would be the regional and potentially existential. But I'm still rather working on what are things, to be honest." A pause, and a specific question, technically: "If you were new to town, but had had a couple... unusual experiences, and were aware of a couple odd," a just perceptible pause, "abilities, where would you begin to ask?"

"People who stand out," Alexander says, promptly. "Like you. Or me, or Dr. Glass. Townies are best - a lot of you outsiders have been coming in of late," there's a furrow of his brow at this, "and whatever your ostensible reasons for arriving, it feels too unusual to be coincidence or happenstance. Some people indicate they've outright felt called to Gray Harbor. But it means you might show up and not know much. But townies usually...we've lived with it."

Then he laughs, softly. "But experiences differ. How we perceive and use our abilities differs. What our bad dreams are like...that can be personal. Although group experiences are becoming more common. I'd only had one or two in my entire life before a few months ago. Now you hear about them a lot." He rubs at his neck. "Don't bother asking authorities or hospitals or trying to do labwork or scientific study - it protects itself. You won't take pictures of someone levitating a desk or catch pyrokinesis on video. Something will always happen. And people who don't stand out, they usually forget it happened, or rationalize it."

Vyv is, if nothing else, clearly serious about listening; there's no interruption, and slight nods to various points. "There really is pyrokinesis?" is the first remark, information being clearly filed away. "I had multiple reasons for arriving. But in my case, at least, I wouldn't call it coincidence per se. I'd noticed the levitation thing. And I'd been a couple places it seemed easier. Supposedly haunted places. So I wondered it it was connected, did a bit of research into similar spots, found Gray Harbor. I suppose there's some coincidence in the steps, but on the whole I've no one to blame by myself." There's a hint of a lift at one side of his mouth, a flicker of humour, but it's gone again when he continues.

"Both events I experienced were in groups. I didn't know that aspect was unusual. And others won't recall?" A pause, thoughtful. "I suppose that explains a thing or two, actually. Mm. How often do those sorts of-- experiences happen? And what sorts of abilities are possible? I know there's at least some variety, but I've no idea what is and isn't realistic or possible once we're in this realm. Telekinesis, clearly. Pyrokinesis, apparently. Mr. Thorne mentioned 'emotional things', but wasn't terribly specific. I seem to be able to sense electricity, at times." He's still not entirely certain what's up with that. "I know enough not to dismiss everything that seems impossible out of hand, at this point. But not enough to know at what point I should be dismissing it. Mind-reading? Invisibility? Teleportation?" There's a faint irritation creeping into the tone, likely at his current ignorance rather than anyone presence. "It makes it very difficult to sort things out."

Alexander nods. "Yes. Most people, even those who have that gift, can't do much. I can...keep coffee heated, and that's about it." He laughs, softly. "But some people are, uh, considerably more gifted." The rest, he listens to, thoughtfully. "Groups is unusual in my experience. My life would have been a great deal more pleasant if other people had seen what I saw," he adds, almost under his breath.

He finally gets to opening the water bottle and takes a sip. "Variable. And variable. I don't think any of us know the full range of what we're capable of, and until recently, I didn't...talk much to other people. At all. So I know more about my area and the healing than I do others." He takes another drink. "Emotional things is my wheelhouse, I guess you could say. I can't read minds in the sense of grabbing your computer passwords from your brain, but I can tell what you're feeling. Or make you feel what I want you to. Or make you see and feel things that aren't there." There's a thoughtful pause. "Invisibility no, but someone like me can make someone less likely to be seen. Or, rather, make the person looking for them more likely to be distracted. No teleportation that I know of." A pause. "Would you like to see a demonstration of one small part of what can be done? If it will help." A rather apologetic lilt to this, as if Vyv's frustration is his fault and must be made up for.

"Practical, at least," Vyv responds about the coffee-heating, with another flicker of a near-smile. The just-audible remark gets a moment of sharper focus, thoughtful, but no comment; after the first, he's back to strictly listening. 'Healing' is noted, clearly. Almost as clearly, a shift in the way he's sitting and the set of his brows suggests he's not wholly comfortable with the idea of someone getting all up in his emotions, let alone fool his senses, but at least it doesn't manifest as an explicitly Alexander-related sort of unease. Supporting that is that after a very slight pause, he nods to the offer. "Yes, please. What have you got in mind?" There's a hesitation before he asks, "How effective can the hallucinations be? Could y--someone with your talents make them unaware of their arrival and presence that way?" It has the feeling of someone trying to align known facts, though that may not be surprising, considering.

"I think that would be hard. Masking someone's entrance and departure - depending on the surroundings. A well lit room with no distractions? I can't imagine being able to do that. A busy party? Probably your best bet to just...blur things enough that someone could be lost to perception for a moment or two." Alexander's voice is thoughtful, his gaze distant as he clearly sorts through his own experiences and tries to codify them. But the unease isn't missed, and it brings a slight upcurl to his own mouth. "It's okay. Most people don't like what I do. A healer can peel your skin off and break your bones without touching you, but I can make you doubt your essential self. It's scary."

He stands up, then, and moves around to put his hands on the back of the chair. "Let's try an illusion. That doesn't require me to look at your emotions, or to push you in any particular way. But it will involve making you see and hear things that aren't real. Is that all right? And," his lips quirk, "any requests for content?"

Vyv nods a little, turning that answer over in his head as it's given. It seems to settle something, anyway. There's no apologetic look when his unease with the general idea is noted, though there is a lift of brows at the remark about what a healer can do without touching you. "Could a healer slit one's throat?" he asks, before even addressing the rest of it, "And if so, from how far away? Would he have to be able to see the victim at the time?" A tiny pause. "I suppose it makes some logical sense that if someone can heal, he can hurt. Like I can hold a thing in place, as well as move it. Can you cool a drink as well as heat it?"

A small shake of his head, and though he still doesn't apologise, the switch back onto the intended thread of the conversation is direct enough to give the impression that another person might. "Yes. All right, yes, let's try an illusion, thank you. As for content... hm. I think it might be better if I don't know quite what I'm expecting, actually. But something that wouldn't be covered by other types of abilities, ideally." That faint half-smile again as he adds, "Just leave me my essential self, mm? We've been together a long time."

"Yes," Alexander says, bluntly, to Vyv's first question. He pauses for a moment, then lifts his leg and slides up the jeans until the start of some pretty extensive stitching in his calf can be seen. "A healer did this, and probably could have done it from long range." He lowers his leg, and makes a thoughtful sound. "I'm not much of a healer, myself. My range definitely peters out more quickly for that than for other things. I haven't really tried. The cooling. Probably? It's still manipulating molecules, just removing energy rather than adding it." He looks intrigued, though.

As Vyv agrees, he offers a brief nod. There's a sort of anticipation in him, and also a certain nervousness, an internal bracing as if he's preparing for rejection. He doesn't close his eyes, but a couple of fingers come up to his temple, and he massages the skin there lightly. And that seems to be all that happens.

At first. Then there's the strident blare of an electric guitar that fills the air, backed by air raid sirens, as Black Sabbath's War Pigs starts to play from everywhere and nowhere, enveloping both Vyv and potentially Vivian as well. Alexander's expression goes slack and blank, like he needs the brainpower he'd normally be using to look...human, and his eyes half close. Lights start to pulse in time with the music as the vocals come in. He takes a soft breath, pushes further, and tactile sensations appear, the brush of a thousand bodies against them, as if at a crowded concert, and never mind that they're not even standing. Thank heavens he doesn't decide to add scent to the mix, because really, no one needs the scent of a Black Sabbath concert. Even imaginary scent.

It only lasts for a minute or two before he slowly releases the illusion, lets the music and lights and sensations fall away into quiet stillness once more. He takes a breath, then looks carefully, cautiously at them both, his shoulders already hunched in anticipation of anger or fear.

Bits and pieces of the information being shared she has learned already, or put together. Not all, but some. It's a hard thing to know what questions to ask, however, when you didn't even know the questions existed, and there is some sympathy for Vyv and his position. Her own position, in fact.

But she's been silent for most of this. Alexander has undoubtedly seen her when she's listening but note taking, which is exactly what she's doing, although it doesn't appear to be notes on this. Possibly she's catching up on patient notes while they are here, which would be odd. And potentially ethically and legally wrong. Either way, she's making notes on something. Until Alexander begins the illusion and she glances up from them, expression surprised for a split second.

When it passes she clicks the pen, setting it down a moment, "How did you figure out what you could do? Those that shine, I keep being told they all can do something. But I've no idea what I can do, personally."

Vyv arcs a brow very slightly when the leg begins to be presented, as if there might be something faintly amusing about it, but that passes swiftly; he eyes the stitches when he's shown them with narrow-eyed focus, and nods when the leg is lowered and Alexander goes on. "That could be it, then," he says quietly, glancing toward Vivian, "perhaps." A tiny increase to normal volume, and, "Please tell me what happens if you try. I'm interested." And apparently that ought to be reason enough!

He watches the other man closely as the attempt at the illusion begins, head tilting slightly when nothing immediately seems to happen. And then there's the music, and he blinks. That, and then a reasonably casual look around, as if trying to pinpoint where the music might be coming from -- not so much looking for speakers as testing the directionality. 'Everywhere and nowhere' is an interesting conclusion to reach, just before the changes in the lights. They're looked at fairly directly, though not for long. His own expression doesn't go slack, but it does a pretty decent Impassive, considering. It's the touch that gets a faint twitch, a movement away from that first unexpected contact and glance in its direction. Nothing there, of course, and the overall feeling resolves itself into the context. Experimentally, he moves a hand to touch where one or another of those nonexistent bodies would have to be... just to see what happens.

When it's done, he doesn't speak immediately. The expression is thoughtful, brow furrowed, and doesn't focus on Alexander himself again for a couple seconds. "That was... extremely odd," he says, still turning it over in his mind. "And rather impressive. Are there many who can do that? And is there any way one can generally be sure of the actual reality of things?" If he's notably less calm than he appears, it would require more use of those powers to be sure.

Vivian's question gets a half-smile, and though it probably wasn't aimed at him, he has at least part of an answer to give. "Accidents, in my case. Someone," and there's a sharpness in it that suggests this person remains persona non grata, "was careless, tripped with a pot of boiling jam that by rights should have ended up all over me." A pause. "It didn't. One drop on my apron, the rest landing to either side of me or just in front. I thought it was just strange luck, then. Sometime later, a watch fell, and stopped before it hit the floor. And I discovered I could keep it there. Or move it back. But if there's much else I might be capable of, I suppose I haven't had the right accidents yet."

Not gonna lie: from his standing vantage point, Alexander shamelessly tries to look at what the good doctor is writing. It's just one of those things that he has to do.

But when people start asking him questions, it does distract him from being quite so nosy. "I...well." Alexander's voice is soft, hesitant. "I've been able to feel people for as long as I can remember. Which people don't actually enjoy, by the way, especially if you're a young child asking uncomfortable questions about those feelings." He shrugs. "The rest, I mostly learned when I got lost, as a kid and later. The things in my dreams kept trying to torture and kill me, so - there was incentive to experiment." And awkward sort of shrug, like figuring out how to survive frequent monster attacks is just one of those life lessons.

He considers Vivian. "I've seen someone move things without touching. Or heal. Or what I can do. You might have some of my talents. You're a therapist, so you might be using it to read people without even really thinking about it. I haven't noticed you do so, but some people are good at hiding it."

There are no bodies for Vyv to touch, when he tries. There's no solidity to the illusion, just the sensation, as if Alexander is just making the nerve endings register the 'right' sort of sensation for the sensory input he wants them to have. Alexander watches them both, carefully, but with perhaps more wariness for Vyv. The unknown quantity. 'Odd' makes him flinch, and look away. But 'impressive' has him glancing back, uncertainly. He clears his throat. "I don't think so. About others. There are some, I'm sure. But I'm...strong." There's not a lot of pride in that. To the last question, he laughs, a little bitterly. "If Dr. Glass were so crass as to break confidentiality, she'd be happy to tell you that I'm not exactly the right person when it comes to being definitive about reality, Mister Vydal. But, I don't know. I haven't experienced many illusions on the receiving end, so I don't know how easy they are to distinguish."

The last part of the conversation draws a thoughtful noise, and a deeply interested look. "I can't move things at all," he says. "It's an interesting gift."

"I..." Vivian starts, the closes her mouth, giving Alexander a very odd expression. Then she turns her attention back to her notes, picking up her pen and clicking the end of it before writing something down. "It's possible, yes. I've always wondered if I was just always that good at reading body language.. Which, for the record, I did always just ignore as being very intuitive, and then learned the tells in school. Such as the unconcious movements of your eyes when you are making up a story. Not perfect lie detecting, but..." She shakes her head, then gestures towards the plants in the room, "And I've never had a plant die on me, even when neglected I've always just had to give them water once and they were full and lush. Although that's not healing a person..."

Vyv gets a quick look, then she finishes her note before leaning back. "I'd not be happy to tell him that, though. I think you're a lot better at these things then you think you are, or have convinced yourself that you are. But that's not a professional opinion, either."

In all honesty, if Vyv had a decent angle there's a good chance he'd be trying to look at the notes as well. It's only the fact that he knows he doesn't from there that has him behaving. A sharp, otherwise silent exhalation through his nose greets the remark that people don't enjoy having their feelings clocked and inquired about; it's probably something in the same taxonomic genus as a laugh. "No. I would imagine not." The bits about dreams get no immediate comment, though they're clearly noticed.

The flinch is noticed. He doesn't apologise. "It's good to know that ability isn't precisely common. I'd hate to think half the people I passed on the street could make me hallucinate at will. But it's quite intriguing." He considers for a moment. "I suspect I'm not particularly strong. Mn." There's a lot to think about, and a lot of questions still unasked. A lot of questions still unthought of, and that's even more annoying. Still, he glances to Vivian and notes, "After that storm, when the power went out. I noticed that when the generator electricity kicked in it was as if I could feel it. Not just hear the refrigerator and elevators come back on, a different sort of sense. I haven't really had any circumstances in which to see whether it was mostly imagined or not, but from what Mr. Thorne said, it may not have been. Could you hurt a plant? If you wanted to." And to Alexander, as though it's been working its way through things until now, "Why wouldn't you be definitive about reality?"

Alexander offers an easy shrug to Vivian. "It sounds like that might be something. Plants are easier than people when it comes to healing," there's a sidelong look at Vyv, "or harming, which is the same talent, just...inverted. Just like animals are easier to read or influence with my powers than people are. Baby steps, if you want to practice. And yeah, I feel electricity, too. You've probably got some of the same abilities I do. It's hard to say...I haven't talked with enough people to know if we can all do the same things, or if everyone has their own," he gestures, "overlapping idiosyncrasies. I know we tend to perceive the...glow? Differently. So maybe some abilities are different, even when they fall in the same family."

He considers the last question for a long time before answering. "I have trouble with reality. Sometimes. Don't worry about it." Because that's definitely what you want to hear from the guy who's been answering your questions.

"I'm not sure I'd ever want to hurt a plant...I like them." Vivian replies after a moment, glancing in the direction of the plants, "However, if this'll help me figure out things...I might be inclined to experiment." She shakes her head a fraction, though, "And if that would lead to people one day, I can see how that would be something very useful indeed."

The notebook she'd been writing in gets one more quick note, then she tucks it into the chair with her before she reaches for her water, "Would you say that learning to use what you can is a good thing, or not?"

"Well, I'm not suggesting one ought to go about mentally eviscerating errant ficus on a whim," Vyv says, making a vague, dismissive little gesture. "But it was mentioned that hurting and healing were two sides of the same coin with people, and if your plants are already healthy it would be a good deal easier to test that way, wouldn't it? And after all, if it did work, presumably you could just heal them again afterward. I'd give it a go, if I were you." Plants probably won't mind, right? Hers get a glance as though he's vaguely considering it himself just to see.

The suggestion that he might have some of the same abilities as Alexander is also intriguing. "So I might be able to tell what people are feeling? Hm. I've never tried." Psychically, anyway. Whether he's tried much other ways is an open question. The issue of reality gets Alexander studied fairly closely again for a few silent moments. "Well, I think most of us have trouble with reality now and then," he says, a touch dry, "but I have the impression that's not quite what you mean. Does it affect," a gesture encompassing what's probably their discussion, but could as easily be the room, "this?"

Vivian's question gets a glance her way, then back to Alexander. Perhaps not a question that had occurred to him. But he's definitely interested in the answer now.

Alexander grimaces at Vivian's question. "I." A pause. "My inclination is to say you should know. At least the basics. Because this fucking town will try to destroy you, and you oughta have a weapon that is with you all the time." His teeth click shut. "But my perspective is," he shrugs, "skewed by my own experiences. Some people ignore their abilities all their lives, and they do okay. I think. No worse than the rest of us. And using it too often can...make things worse. My nightmares get worse, the shadows catch my scent, and I'm more likely to get lost if I start using it a lot."

He shifts uncomfortably as Vyv continues to pursue questions about his reality troubles. His hands tighten on the back of the chair, and there's a flash of anger, and of fear, like he can't decide whether to snap at the man to mind his own business, or to just flee from the questioning. He closes his eyes, takes a couple of breaths. Then he says, slowly, "When I get lost, it's often hard to tell whether I'm here or there until someone I like tries to kill me, or convince me to do unpleasant things. I'm kinda hoping you two are real, and not...not-real, but the only way I'll really know it is if we get through the whole thing without something terrible happening. And even then, it might be just a clever trick." Which explains a good deal of Alexander's perpetual paranoia right there, really.

When Vyv continues to mention hurting her plants she glances at the plants in question, then back towards him, "I'll buy you your own plant, but leave mine alone. They never hurt anyone." Vivian seems strangely defensive of these plants for some reason. Others? Not as much. But then she leans back, taking a careful sip from her water as she settles in to listen to the pair of them again, not asking any further questions until one occurs to her. One very, very important question.

"How do we access these powers?"

Vyv rolls his head to look toward the woman; the rest of the movement is the only reason it avoids qualifying as an eyeroll. "God's sake, Vivian, I am not about to attack your plants. You act like I'm some nascent Jack the Snipper." He finally uncaps his water, adding almost absently, "And in any case, I already have plants of my own, thank you, and a whole wide world of them outside. Some of them have probably even hurt people."

He takes a sip, considering Alexander as he answers. Vyv's probably been snapped at to mind his own business before. It clearly hasn't taken. For whatever it's worth, he does at least appear to take the answer seriously. "I'm reasonably certain we're real," he says, "although I don't suppose it's particularly reassuring coming from a potential figment of some sort. Presumably that's what I would say. But I think I see what you mean. The... is 'dreams' the usual word? No one was asleep. 'Lost' fits my first experience, but the second-- well, anyway. The first was clearly unreal. The second seemed off, but not clearly unreal until a certain point. And I suppose for all I know there have been others, and they simply never got strange enough for me to realise it." THAT'S an unsettling thought. "I've heard the shadows mentioned before. I don't think I've seen them." He doesn't sound certain, though. "I believe Mr. Thorne called them dolorphages?"

Alexander blinks at Vivian. "I...don't know how to answer that. How do you breathe? I just do it." An awkward and apologetic shrug. "Sorry, Dr. Glass. It's just. Um. You know what it's like to learn a second or third language? Where at first you have to think your way through every word, and deliberately construct what you're going to say? I think it's a little like that. Concentration, and shaping your intentions. But," he grimaces, "for me it's sort of like English. I know I must have learned it at some point, but I don't remember that process, and while I acquire new vocabulary, deepen my understanding of grammar, I don't really think about it, I just do it."

A serious nod is given to Vyv. "You see my problem, Mister Vydal. People's experiences are singular. When I've been in a few group...lost experiences, things have been more, uh, unusual? A lot of the time when it's just me, I think...I feel like me not being able to know until things go to hell is part of the point. The shadows, the dolorphages, they want us to hurt, to suffer. And I guess, for me, what really hurts is that I never know what's real." And a bright smile comes to his face. "I am so delighted Thorne uses my word. So very delighted."

"It's a good word," Vyv says. "Precise. Says just what it means, doesn't lend itself to confusions like whether a dream is something that happens when one is asleep or when the world around one suddenly decides it feels like following a different form of physics. When you tell me something is a pain eater, I know approximately what to expect." He studies Alexander again, tatty clothing and sweaty hair and all. "I like it. Perhaps you ought to name more things, Mr. Clayton. Everything's easier with the right vocabulary."

A finger taps lightly against the bottle again. "They're more likely to notice us if we use it, you said? But it's also our best defence if they do notice us. Does becoming-- lost," that one is not as precise as he'd prefer, "mean they've noticed? Because," a glance to Vivian, "if they've already noticed in any case, then one might as well improve." He takes a sip, setting the bottle cap lightly on his thigh, and studies the bottle itself a moment.

"For me," he says thoughtfully, "it's a matter of focus," he turns his free hand over, "and intention," the fingers curl, all of them lightly to the palm except the index finger, which only crooks; the water in the bottle ripples, shifting, and as he lifts that finger, it streams upward out of the neck of the bottle, into the air. The thin column coalesces into a sphere, with the faint wobble of a soap bubble, and one side of Vyv's lips quirks upward a bit. "...and possibly a sheer bloody-minded insistence that the universe is going to do what I damn well tell it to." His free hand moves like he's trying to subtly conduct a symphony, and the water dances about for a few seconds, scribing a few curves and circles in the air and changing shape a bit, then pausing in the air above and arcing into a stream again, back down into the bottle.

"It doesn't always work," he grants, looking from the water to Vivian. "And there are limits, when it does. But that's the best I can do for how. It feels a bit like," he tilts his head slightly, considering, "...the way it feels between matching poles of two strong magnets."

"That was still very educational, even if you are unable to explain how to make these things work. It's a starting point." Vivian glances towards the clock, then gets to her feet, picking up her notebook, "I'm just not sure where to begin, but given an idea about what things I might be capable of, perhaps I can simply will myself into doing it. Like picking up a pen, retraining the way the mind works."

Alexander is ridiculously susceptible to appreciation. Especially from people who don't look like they give a lot of it. Which may be why he gives Vyv a bright, pleased sort of smile at the man's first remarks, his entire posture and demeanor becoming less cringy, more confident. "Yes. Exactly. It's important to remember what is going on. The right vocabulary helps."

He runs one hand through his hair. "Yes. Sort of a Catch-22. But think of it like this - I think when we're lost, it's because we've caught their eye. Whether it's because of something we've done, or because they're hungry, or just like a cat noticing a mouse that happens to be there when the cat happens to be bored and wants to break a spine for fun. It doesn't mean they're watching us all the time. I think. It comes and goes. But doing a lot of things makes it more likely that you'll, uh, catch their eye. If they're looking in your direction. Maybe it makes our pain taste better, when there's power behind it? Working hypothesis. Limited evidence."

A glance back at Vivian, and a gesture towards Vyv. "Mister Vydal has it. Focus, intention, refusal to accept another outcome. It's a good place to start. Um. If you want to practice in my area...the earliest thing I can remember doing is sensing emotions. Doesn't have to be human. Animals have them. Go to the park or the zoo. Focus. Try the peacock. His emotions are fairly distinct. You'll probably notice them as separate from yourself." Seeing that she's risen, he steps back, straightening up. "Um. Anything else? You can probably find better experts than me; I just figure out what I can as I go along. But I hope it was helpful."

Vyv clearly makes a mental note of the advice on practicing in Alexander's area; that's two people now who've said it seems to go with the electricity thing for them, after all. Though there's still a decent chance of staring at a plant a while, too, and no particular indications for that. Just curiosity.

"It's one of the things that's been bothering me," he says, "Not as much as being quite certain I've only scratched the tip of a rather substantial but elusive iceberg, mind, but not having a suitable vocabulary for things makes it even more exasperating. If people are talking about a cake, a torte, or a gateau, are they all speaking of the same thing or are there subtle but possibly important differences?"

A sigh, one that sits right on the border of being a huff, and he eyes Vivian rising. All right, he can take a hint. He doesn't always, but he can. "Thank you, Mr. Clayton. For your time and knowledge. I'm sure I have untold reserves of further questions, but I suppose I oughtn't keep Dr. Glass, who is of course terribly busy." A glance to her, as he screws the lid back onto the bottle, and rises, setting it on her desk, "Thank you for arranging things," and back to Alexander, "It has in fact been helpful, yes. May I contact you with questions in future?"

Alexander tilts his head to one side, looking at Vyv with frank and honest curiosity. "I know what a cake is, I've heard of a torte, but I'm not sure I even have any idea about what a gateau is." A faint smile. "A shared language is important for collaboration. And research."

He jerks his head in a nod at being thanked. "It's fine. I didn't mind." And then the last has him shuffling his feet, looking uncertain. "You want to? Contact me? Uh. Certainly, Mister Vydal. My number is," and he gives it. "You can text me if you have any further question. It was...nice to meet you." A look, then, to Vivian, and another bob of his head. "Hope it was helpful. Thank you for the water. Don't die." And then he turns and starts to walk out.

"In France it's a cake, in England it's a particular sort of cake, here it's generally a cake someone would like you to feel especially fancy about," Vyv says, with that little upward quirk of his lips again. He doesn't directly say that Alexander's quite right about shared language, but the agreement may well be clear enough regardless. He draws out his phone when the number's given, swiftly recording it, and then gives the man a faint smile. "Thank you. Do stay safe."

He watches for a moment as Alexander exits, waiting until the door shuts behind him to remark to Vivian. "Mm. I see what you mean." He glances at her clock himself, then back to the woman. "I expect you've patients, so I'll leave you be. But do tell me how your experimentation goes. Perhaps drop me a note if you decide to attempt the zoo some lunchtime soon." A slight smile for her as well, and he and his waiting umbrella follow Alexander out.