2019-10-20 - Is the doctor in?

Morning. Maybe remembering that Alexander said he was up early anyways after the talk of an appointment for him contacted him and let him know that she had a morning open, that if he'd like to drop in for a session she would be there.

Today she's in a dark grey tweed three-piece suit, complete with a dark red silk tie and a white shirt. Once more there is classical music playing, and the smell of coffee is in the air.

Alexander answered promptly to the contact, and was easily able to schedule the appointment for this morning. He arrives promptly, dressed in an overlarge grey knit sweater, jeans, and workboots. It's not raining at the moment, so he's even dry as he lets himself in. A wary look around, before he passes to the inner office, and offers a brief smile at the woman. "Dr. Glass. Hello. Thank you for seeing me. Are you well?" He slinks towards his usual chair to take a seat.

"Mister Clayton." Vivian replies before she gets to her feet, picking up a notebook and a cup of coffee before she moves towards the chair, "I'm well, how are you doing?" She wonders, setting the coffee down before she crosses her legs, the notebook getting set down, "If you'd like coffee I just made some, so it is fresh."

Alexander glances to the coffee. He looks like he might be about to refuse, then grimaces, gets up, and pours himself a cup. He returns to the chair, cup between his hands, his fingers fidgeting nervously with it. "I'm okay? Relieved that things seem to be quieting down a little. For me. I have a murder case to investigate. And some paying jobs." A faint smile. "I've got an address for you. For Mr. Carver. I was going to try and drop by and see if he'd be amenable to meeting with you, first, but if you just want the address and phone number, I have that." It's rapid and precise.

"An address and a phone number?" Vivian nods faintly as she reaches into the pocket of her jacket to pull a pen out, clicking it before she scribbles on the notebook, "If you'd like to give it to me, I'll hang onto it for a day or two if you'd prefer to make contact with him first." She glances up from the notebook, tapping the end of her pen against it, offering him a smile, "I appreciate the speed with which you've gotten this information...and it sounds like you've been keeping yourself busy. How goes your socialization efforts?"

Alexander gives the phone number and address when she's ready to write. "Yeah. I'd like to. Just to make sure it's safe. Since I started trying to find him, I've felt someone watching me, but I don't know who. It might just be me." He makes the 'loco' gesture by his temple. "But in case it's not, I'd like to make sure he's not dangerous." A flicker of a smile. "Consider it part of the service."

His expression drops at the mention of socialization. He slumps bonelessly in the chair. "I...badly." A pause. "Most of my social circle was murderous, and I attempted to kill three people, including one of my best friends. And I think I broke him. And Isabella and I are...going to have a conversation about our pasts, and afterwards, I'm pretty sure she won't want to be with me any more. Or even look at me. I wouldn't want to look at me." A pause. "I don't want to look at me."

"It might be, but it very well could be someone watching you...Byron doesn't seem to trust Mr. Carver, so there could be something there, but it could also be as simple as..." She lifts her pen gesturing to around them, likely to indicate things like Grey Harbor. The weirdness. All that is wrong with the town. All without saying it outloud.

"Your social circle was murderous, but I don't believe that the blame for something like that can be laid at your feet. I certainly don't. If anything, and if it traces back to the mishandling of Gohl's bones...that could be laid at my feet as much as anyone." She brushes her hand across her notebook, despite there being nothing there to brush away. "Your best friend, the one that you tried to kill...could you potentially explain why? I realize that may not be doable...but if you can, perhaps it might help repair things?"

The mention of Isabella and his past is left for a little while longer, a hand reaching for her coffee to lift it up for a sip, "What makes you think that she'd be so inclined to do that? Miss Reede strikes me as more the type to stick things out no matter what."

"Could be," Alexander says, with a shrug. "I don't know much about this Carver guy, except that at least one person thinks that a conversation between me and him would be hilarious, and that he tends to be evasive and does not enjoy giving straight answers to anything." His voice is dry.

At the mention of Gohl, he grimaces. "Dr. Glass...you need to understand. The anger was influenced by Gohl, but the actions were my own. Notice that most of the rest of you held it together? I didn't. And when I lost it, I chose my actions. And he knows why. He probably knows why better than most of the people who keep trying to say it wasn't my fault and that I wasn't responsible." His mouth twists with irritation. "And I don't expect to repair things. But I'm afraid that I broke something inside of him. And I want to...I want to help make that better, somehow. And if he doesn't want to talk to me after that, then that's his choice. But I hate the idea that I'm leaving him broken."

He stares broodily down into the coffee cup, not drinking from it. Just staring.

"I'm not sure how that would be hilarious." Vivian replies with a faint frown, "Sounds more like a frustrating situation, and that generally isn't very hilarious."

The cup in her hand gets set down on the table, a notation put on the notebook in front of her before she folds her hands once more, "You can attempt to reach out to him, but if he's not ready to talk the best thing to do is provide him the distance. Make it clear you are here, but then step back from everything." She shakes her head a moment, a frown tugging the corner of her mouth downwards, "I don't think that the rest of us were holding it together...perfectly, at least. I was contemplating poisoning Byron's bottles of alcohol...or just what dosage I needed to mimic an overdose. I wouldn't say those are generally speaking normal thoughts for me. If I hadn't been so sick most of that time, I very well could have followed through."

"I'm pretty sure she meant it'd be hilarious for the observers, not for us," Alexander replies, with a flicker of his own amusement. Which turns into frustration fairly quickly. "I know. I know. But I didn't. I came across him in the bar the other night, and tried to push things." A long pause. "It didn't work. I couldn't even get him to fight me. Which is apparently a male bonding thing that I thought was pretty reliable?" Now he takes a sip of his drink, and sighs. He shakes his head. "It's not that, Doctor." He lifts his eyes to stare at her. "You're not me. But I'm willing to bet that you probably don't have a long history of homicidal ideation, nor of personal violence. You probably haven't tortured people, and you probably having been in Dreams since you were young where the things trying to hurt and kill you had the faces of people you knew and cared about, because something out there wants you to become that." A pause. "I'm not...I'm not saying I have voices in my head trying to make me kill people. They're not that unsubtle. But I can feel the pressure. And all of the things over there, they can see it in me, too. Even Gohl recognizes it in me. Recognized." He takes a long, shaky breath. "What we experienced? That? That was my own personal hell, Dr. Glass, and the thing I've tried to fight in myself since I was nine fucking years old."

"I find that this idea that fighting is..." Vivian shakes her head for a moment, leaving the thought unfinished, but it's probably clear where she lands on this thought either way. Instead she focuses on what else he says, frowning a moment before she shakes her head, "No, I'm not you, nor do I have a long history of homicidal ideation, or of personal violence. As far as history goes my own has been painfully positive, which has instead left me unprepared for how to cope with those feelings and impulses beyond the theoretical and academic. You have..."

Vivian pauses a moment, then she shakes her head, "I don't know. I really don't. I've said it before, and I think that I'll continue to say it. These things? They are so beyond what I even can begin to grasp at times, but what I've learned from watching you, from listening to you....you don't want to be this person they want you to be, and that is step number one. Whatever past you've experienced, you have surrounded yourself with people that do care about you. Isabella? She's tough, and I don't see her letting go just because you've fought for survival in the past."

There's a long space of silence. Then a flicker of a smile from Alexander. "It's not a bad thing to have a positive history, you know. And you coped. You didn't poison Thorne, or anything like that. Don't sell yourself short." He sighs and rests his head on the back of the chair. "I don't know if I want people to care about me. It just means that I can hurt them. With the sickness, and Gohl - it makes me remember things I don't want to remember."

"You can hurt people without them being close, but...yes." Vivian replies with a nod, a hand lifting a fraction, "I understand what you mean." She drps her hand back down, making a note on the notebook once more, "Answer me this...Would you give up what you've found with Isabella? Would it be worth losing that, and letting all this...win. To consume your life, and to have no reason to continue trying to fight it."

Alexander's eyebrows go up. "To keep her safe? From all of this? From me? Absolutely." He rubs at his face with one hand. "I'm selfish enough that I...want to keep it. As long as I can. But I don't expect that to be forever. She deserves better than me. Better than Gray Harbor." His smile reappears, although it's a weird, crooked thing. "But I don't fight this for her. Or for any of the people I like. I'm more of a bastard than that, Dr. Glass. I fight it because fuck the Shadows. If they'd never touched me, then maybe I would have become everything they wanted, because I know I have it in me. But because I know they want me to, and they've made my life a misery, I'm not ever going to give them the satisfaction. Not if my choice matters at all."

"You believe that would keep her safe?" Vivian does seem to be judging that statement one way or another, just making a note once more on the notebook. Then she glances up at him, tilting her head faintly to the side before making another note, "So you feel that because they overplayed their hand, they've pushed you in the other direction than what they wanted? ...no ideas that perhaps this is all part of their plan?"

Alexander says, "Safer. If she wasn't here. I can't stop her - and wouldn't stop her - from doing the work she does, and there's some danger in that. But," Alexander makes a frustrated noise, "I just got hit in the shoulder by a flaming pumpkin wielded by a headless horseman who crawled out of a giant pumpkin. And then exploded into pumpkin bits. I can pretty much guarantee that wouldn't be a thing in most other places." And a short, sharp laugh at the last. "I don't know if They plan, Dr. Glass. Are they even capable? I feel that they have things they want, and clearly they're able to make some sort of alliances, so they have...thoughts. Of a sort. But if you're ageless and timeless and incorporeal - how much planning do you really need to accomplish your goals?" A thoughtful pause. "I wish I could link with one. It'd probably drive me the rest of the way out of my mind, but it'd be fascinating.""

"No, I don't think other places are quite the same as here...in fact, before coming here..." Vivian shakes her head, making a faint face, "Well, I'd never even heard of anything like this. So, no...but she came back, completely independent of you. She'd be here, even if you were not involved with her. She has made her choice to be here, regardless of you. Keep that in mind when you begin to go through this thought process of how if you just weren't involved..." She makes another careful notation on the notebook, "I think there is a plan of some sort."

Alexander makes a noise. It's that noise that suggests he's not actually agreeing, but maybe doesn't want to continue to defend his point, so he's just hoping she takes the noise of acknowledgement as a noise of agreement instead. It's a complicated noise. What isn't complicated is the interested look he gives her at the last. "You do? What do you think that plan might be?"

"That...I don't know." Vivian taps the end of the pen against the notebook, clicking it a few times as she thinks about it, "Honestly, I really don't know. But I can't help but feel like there has to be some kind of plan. They've this Asylum, they've got...it just feels more planned, more organized than this idea they're just pushing things around and hoping something interesting happens."

Alexander grimaces. "Well. I can't say you're wrong. It'd be somewhat terrifying if you were right. But what's a little more terror?" He runs a hand through his hair. "Maybe the Asylum will hold more answers. Although I suppose proper documentation is a bit much to ask. If City Hall is anything to go by, it'll probably be stone tablets filled with magic symbols that make you manifest various psychological disorders."

"Hopefully not.." Vivian replies with the very faintest of twists to her mouth, like she's uncertain if she wants to frown or laugh at the potential. Laughter, though, doesn't come, even if it would be the bitter, sad laugh of someone that pretty much believes that only the worst waits for them. "I suppose we could always ask what their method of data recording is."

Alexander says, "We'll put that on the list of questions," Alexander agrees, with a faint smile. "I want to shut that place down, you know. Burn it. Salt whatever passes for its earth. But is that the right thing to do? How many people like Gohl do they have over there? People who maybe use their abilities for pain and suffering. Would we just be unleashing them? Do we have to kill them, too.""

"That's a complicated question that there is really only one way to answer." Vivian points out as she reaches for the coffee to take another sip from it, "We'd have to find it, and take an actual inventory of who is there...somehow figure out the disposition of each and every individual that has been locked up there. Evaluate them, and then decide what their danger levels are. It's a....daunting task, honestly."

Alexander makes a face. "A task that sounds like it would take a long time. I don't think we should stay over there too long. August thought that the flu might have come from Over There, somehow. And Dr. Marshall probably used to be human, and now apparently he's a zombie. I don't think that prolonged exposure to that place is good for us." A pause. "Even not taking into account the hostile nature of some things."

"Dr. Marshall was human, I saw him die...and he is a zombie." Vivian agrees with a slow nod, "Last I saw him I was putting his legs in the trunk of his car. Cecelia, I believe? Something like that, at the very least. The car is...interesting." She slowly shakes her head a moment, "Either way, I wonder. If those in the Asylum are there for long periods, are they picking up some exposure from it?"

Alexander shrugs. "I don't know. I don't know anyone who's been there, except Ms. Velez. She hasn't mentioned having any...after effects, but then, I can't say I know her very well. But Dr. Marshall probably didn't have the ability to remain undead after death before he worked there for however many years." Then a pause. "Or maybe it's just...dying over there. That does it."

"I'm not sure." Vivian replies thoughtfully, tapping her pen lightly against her notebook, then she points out, "Was not Violet and her sister there at one point?" She doesn't linger on that point, though, instead musing, "If it's the dying over there that does it, any potentially...problematic patients should not be killed there."

Alexander shakes his head. "Violet wasn't. Not that I'm aware of. Her sister was. May still be." His fingers beat a rapid rhythm on the coffee cup. "A good point. Last thing we need is another group of Gohls floating around, causing trouble." A thin smile. "You should talk to Ms. Velez. Ask her if she's gone weird from the Asylum. That seems like a psychiatrist sort of question to ask."

"It does...and my interest in that has been established, and I'm aware of her having been a patient." Which are all clearly ways for her to say that she's going to probably do just that. "But that is a thing we should keep in mind, and if no one knows the answers...I suggest to be safe we bring them back."

It's such a very calm conversational tone, considering the subject is literally how best to commit murder.

"Do you think we could?" Alexander responds, just as calmly. "Assuming we're talking about dangerous people - we're also talking about dangerous people with abilities. I'm...good. At violence. But I'm still human. We'd need a real crew if we wanted to make any of the patients go anywhere they don't wanna go."

"Considering the facility, I imagine there is medication on hand, if I had access to it I could easily provide enough to knock them out for transport. Most of these individuals are also probably institutionalized to the point that they might not even fight back if it looks like a normal part of their daily routines. But that all depends on how similar to a mundane facility they actually are." Vivian tilts her head faintly, contemplating it, "After that, it'd be just a matter of finishing the job. If the ability to knock them out was removed, due to them resisting or anything else....I assume someone who is a good enough shot could hit them with a tranq. Rinse, repeat...but that's all mundane efforts, too. Would those be effective? I think so. Otherwise, yes, a team...but I hesitate to involve too many people that would find this...objectionable or problematic."

"If you're talking about a tranq gun, then we need Easton," Alexander says, bluntly. "He's got way too many guns to not know how to hit what he's aiming at. I can tranq people hand to hand, or stun them at range, but if they've got abilities, I might not be able to get close enough for one, and they might be able to counter the other."

"Yes...and Easton has a direct way in through Dr. Marshall, although Dr. Marshall seems to want to keep Easton and myself out. I believe that I can convince him...In fact, I was working towards convincing him that I wished to be his right hand at the asylum." Vivian scrawls out something on her notebook, "Do we think that Easton would help, that's more the question."

Alexander's head tilts to one side. "Yes. Why wouldn't Easton help? He won't let innocent people get hurt." He rubs at the side of his face. "Dr. Marshall may not want to see the Asylum's operations disrupted. Or he may just be ashamed of the things he's done there. I don't know how those who work with Them think. I like to think they have guilt. Some of them."

"He seemed..." Vivian pauses, "Concerned, honestly. Like a doddering older uncle that was trying to keep you out of trouble. I think he was attempting to protect me, and Easton the second time. He wasn't the first to be in charge of it, either, so I wonder if someone else is now that he's a shambling corpse, or if he's retained control."

"I wonder how long the damned thing's been running." Alexander takes a sip of his coffee, absently, his gaze turned inward. "Turn of the last century, at least, I'd guess, but if you go back to conventional history, asylums in some form have existed since the 1800s, so...could easily be that old. I don't know that distance works the same as it does here. I'd guess it doesn't. Maybe not time, either."

"At least." Vivian replies with a nod of agreement, "So it could easily be two hundred or more years...and it's possible that it even existed prior to when Asylum's existed, just in a different form. Jail...debtors prison. I mean, institutions are a favorite way of controlling the population." Vivian frowns a bit, writing that down, then adding a question mark before circling it. "I don't think time matters if you are able to continue after death, either."

"But why control us?" Alexander asks, quietly. "We're tasty. Aren't we tastier out in the world, fucking things up the way people generally do?" A longer pause. "Margaret Addington said something about extinguishing the little lights in the darkness. I don't know what she meant. I do know that my abilities have been curtailed, since the funeral. Not the power, but the," a pause, "reach."

"Why not control us? If they do have a plan, or a goal...then they'd need to control us. Direct us down the pathways they want, and while being out here messing things up is an option, if we mess up the wrong thing...then what? No. This is why I think there has to be some plan." Vivian replies with a sigh, then she shakes her head, "I wish that I could say I knew what range and reach has changed or not, but I'm still trying to even figure out what I can do."

Alexander squrims in his seat, as if fighting the urge to leap up and pace around. Because he is. "Not enough information, Dr. Glass. They are an alien species, and I don't have any information on how they think or what they may want, aside from our hurt. But we can keep our eyes open." He looks vaguely intrigued by the other. "Really? What all have you tried?"

"I've toyed with the plants." Vivian replies, tilting her head towards the plants in question, "I can not, at all, move things. So that apparently seems to be something that I don't have an affinity for. But...I was able to pick up some emotions from a coat one of my patients had when I picked it up...which is highly disconcerting."

Alexander smiles. "I can't move things, either. I sort of wish I could? It'd be fun." The rest, he listens to. "So, you definitely have some of my area of abilities. There's a lot you can do with that. Not all of it is safe." A pause. "Have you tried pushing anyone?"

"Pushing?" Vivian shakes her head at the question, her brows furrowing a fraction, "Afraid that I haven't, no...Is this something that I should be trying to do?" She sets the notebook to the side now that things seem to have veered away from work to something else. "I'm still fumbling around in the dark about everything."

"Should you be trying to do it?" Alexander thinks about that for a bit, then shakes his head. "That, I can't answer. Sometimes it can be useful. Especially in your line of work, I would imagine. But it can be dangerous. Like I told Nasir - I can make people feel things. Anger, sadness, joy. Counter other feelings. You might be able to do the same, if you're strong enough."

"Which I can see how that would be useful..." Vivian replies thoughtfully, the pen in her hand being absently tapped against her back, then she nods, "Perhaps I'll try and see how it goes. It'd be at least useful to know if I can, even if I don't."

Alexander nods, slowly. "It's good to know what you can do, even if you never do it. That way you don't reach for something in panic and harm someone by accident. If you need someone to practice on, let me know? I'm pretty sturdy when it comes to mental attacks." He pauses, then laughs, softly. "Well. The conversation rather moved away from my ongoing psychological issues. Which probably means I talked about what I need to. Thank you, Doctor."

"You actually want me trying to...push you?" Vivian then pauses, correcting herself, "Want, perhaps isn't the right word. Are willing..." She shakes her head, reaching for the notebook before she offers him a faint smile, "I'll give it some thought, but I might take you up on the offer." She glances down at the notebook, then taps where she wrote down the number, "Let me know as soon as I can reach out, and I really do appreciate this."

Alexander inclines his head. "I'd rather you practice on someone who can resist if they need to," he says, quietly. "I don't want you to be distressed by harming someone by mistake, or losing control while trying to practice. I can keep you out of anything I don't want you to see," he says, and in this, at least, he sounds confident. There's a nod at her request, and he rises to his feet. "Thank you for the session, Dr. Glass. And for the work. Please consider me for your people stalking needs in the future," he adds, with a flicker of a smile. Then he turns to go, saying only, "Don't die," before heading out.

"Thank you, Mister Clayton, I'll do my very best." Vivian calls in return as she gets to her feet, starting to clean up the coffee mugs and her notebook, preparing herself and the office for any future patient she might have that afternoon.